Her Cowboy Dilemma. C.J. Carmichael

washed and rinsed, she went to check on Lucy.

      Oh, how she hated to see the sweet mare in obvious discomfort. Lucy had a fierce spirit, but she was also gentle and trusting with her rider. Olive had purchased her from one of the best trainers in Montana and it showed. Cassidy had known she’d spent a pretty penny on her, too, when Olive demurred from sharing the purchase price with them.

      Privately, Cassidy thought Lucy’s potential was being wasted as a working horse on a cattle ranch. She had lovely footing. Cassidy bet she’d make a great barrel-racing horse. And she was so pretty, she’d be a real crowd favorite.

      In high school Cassidy had dabbled in the sport, coached by her brothers and encouraged by her mom. But in her final school year she’d decided she needed to focus on her grades and she’d given up competing.

      She hadn’t run a course since.

      “Hey, Lucy. Think you’d like being the center of attention in a rodeo ring?”

      The worst waste of all, of course, would be if Lucy didn’t recover from the strangles. Cassidy took some comfort from the fact that Farley hadn’t seemed overly worried.

      Cassidy went to the tack room to heat some compresses, then returned to Lucy’s stall.

      “I have something here that should help you feel better.”

      Lucy nickered and shuffled restlessly. Her nostrils were oozing pus again and she looked as miserable as a horse could look without actually collapsing to the ground.

      Cassidy pressed the heated pads against the mare’s swollen lymph nodes. “How does that feel?” She’d wash down the stalls next, then mix up some warm mash for Lucy. She had fencing to clean and the tack room, too, but that might have to wait for tomorrow because she needed to examine the rest of the riding horses before nightfall and make sure none of them were exhibiting signs of the sickness.

      Three hours later, Cassidy finally made it back to the ranch house, where she showered and had dinner with her mother. Olive was hurrying the meal because she had a meeting in town at seven.

      “I’m sorry to rush out on your first night home. But if I don’t go they’ll just make a bunch of silly decisions that I’ll have to fix the next meeting.”

      The committee was working to build a historical site at the intersection of Highway 81 and Main Street, kitty-corner to the Crossroads Gas and Snack. A life-sized bronze of a quarter horse had been donated to the town and the idea was to have a walking loop around the statue with wooden signposts detailing the history of the area.

      Olive had been shepherding the project from the start and had contributed a significant chunk of cash to the fundraising efforts.

      “That’s fine, Mom. I’ll run over and visit Corb and the gang.”

      “I hate to leave you with the dishes...”

      “Not a problem. Have fun at your meeting.”

      Her mom grabbed her leather coat from the closet at the side door, then slipped on her best pair of go-to-meeting boots. “If you think fun is even a possibility, then you haven’t met Straws Monahan.”

      Cassidy chuckled at that, knowing that even the strong-minded Straws whose property was on the other side of Coffee Creek, closer to Lewistown, would be no match for her mother.

      Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen was spotless and Cassidy slipped outside to walk to her brother’s. Sky followed at her side for the quarter of a mile to Cold Coffee Lake Road. Trees—a mixture of aspen and ponderosa pine—separated each of the brothers’ cabins, giving them some privacy from one another.

      Jackson lived in the cabin closest to the main house. Originally built for B.J., when it had become clear that he was going to be on the road most of the time, Olive had reluctantly given permission for Jackson to take up residence.

      The other cabin had been Brock’s. It was vacant now, and Cassidy had no idea what would become of it. She’d heard Corb suggest that Olive offer it to Winnie, but that idea had gone over like a lead balloon.

      Olive and Winnie had been like oil and water from the start. Cassidy knew, since her mother had confided in her, that Olive had hoped Brock would marry someone else. And that she felt Winnie fell short of the mark as far as being the wife of a cattleman.

      Cassidy hadn’t bothered arguing.

      Nothing she said had ever changed her mother’s opinion on anything, anyway.

      Cassidy helped Sky up the stairs to Corb and Laurel’s front door. Exhausted from the walk, Sky seemed happy to curl up on a plump cushion on the plank floor of the porch that was obviously a favorite sleeping spot.

      Since the door had been left open a crack, Cassidy gave it a nudge. “Hello?”

      “Come on in!” It was Laurel who answered. “We were hoping you’d drop by.”

      Cassidy left her boots in the foyer and found Laurel in the kitchen, where the counters were littered with stacked dishes and pots and pans.

      Laurel didn’t seem perturbed by the mess. She was at the sink, her hands in soapy water. “Hey, Cassidy, some homecoming. I hear you spent the day disinfecting in the barn. But I bet that wasn’t as bad as this mess.” She wrinkled her nose at the stove behind her.

      Cassidy came round the counter to give her sister-in-law a hug. Once more she thought how smart Corb had been to marry this woman. Laurel’s easygoing nature and sense of humor were a good match for him.

      “Yeah, it’s been a chaotic day.” Cassidy glanced at the stove, which was splattered with baked-on tomato sauce and something that looked like egg yolk. “You, too?”

      “Every day’s chaotic when you have a new baby. After two months you’d think I’d have things figured out and be on some sort of schedule, but you’d be wrong.”

      Cassidy laughed. Already she felt more relaxed than she’d been all day. “Where’s the rest of the family?”

      “Corb’s giving Stephanie her bath upstairs. They’ll be down in a sec.” She glanced at her own T-shirt, which had some stains matching those on the stove. “I could use a bath myself. Not to mention some clean clothes. Sorry to be such a slob.”