Home To Copper Mountain. Rebecca Winters

were lucky.”

      His dad flashed him a shrewd look. “Have you thought of trying to find the right woman?”

      “No. I don’t believe in it.” He frowned. “Either she shows up in the scheme of things like Mom did and like Laurel did for Nate, or she doesn’t. If I have to work on meeting my intended, then I might as well stick to racing.”

      “Well—I’m glad we had this little talk.”

      “So am I. After breakfast tomorrow I’ll head out for Phoenix and sign those contracts Neal’s holding for me. I’m fortunate to have a job waiting for me I know how to do, right?” That’s what Rick had to keep telling himself.

      “A man needs work. If he knows how to be successful at it, that’s a plus. Tell you what—I’ll race you to that clump of blackjack oak in the distance.”

      Blackjack? Already he was an expert on Texas flora?

      To Rick’s surprise, his father took off at a gallop. He couldn’t believe what a natural he was in the saddle. Just as if he was on a pair of skis. It was a pleasure to watch man and horse race toward the sunset.

      After a moment Rick realized this was supposed to be a race. Already behind, he found that splashing through the creek not far ahead of him slowed him down even more. He had a devil of a time catching up to his father.

      It wasn’t long before he saw a sea of blue in the distance. “Is that a lake?” He’d reined in next to his dad. “I didn’t see it on the map.”

      “I asked Pam the same question when she first brought me out here. Those are Texas bluebonnets. They grow wild here in the spring. You’ll never see the likes of them in Colorado.

      “If you’d come a few weeks later, you would have missed them. Though there’s no fragrance, the sight is unmatched.”

      “It’s spectacular!”

      But Rick’s thoughts were elsewhere. The word bluebonnet brought to mind the haunting lyrics of the country music sung by the fabulous female vocalist he’d heard on the radio last night.

      I’m an uprooted bluebonnet,

      I no longer have a home,

      Do you hear me, windshield rancher?

      Thanks to you I’m alone.

      The light has now gone out,

      I can’t see in front of me,

      There’s no home to go back to,

      Fear is my destiny.

      The past is gone forever,

      It walked out the door.

      What once excited, excites no more.

      In light of David Jarrett’s announcement at lunch about the sale of his ranch, combined with certain tragic revelations from the lips of Audra Jarrett in the kitchen, those lyrics had just taken on even deeper personal meaning for Rick.

      By tacit agreement he and his father rode to the edge of where the giant carpet of lavender blue began. Rick dismounted, then hunkered down to examine a bluebonnet. It was about a foot high with a tiny white top.

      “The flowers on the stock are supposed to resemble a woman’s bonnet.”

      He nodded at his dad’s explanation, but for some odd reason the shape of the individual blossoms reminded Rick of Audra’s curls. When she moved to Austin with her uncle, she’d be a displaced bluebonnet…

      “Pam’s from a great heritage. Her great-great-grandfather Thomas Jarrett came out here in 1897 from Middlesex, England. He built his holdings to six hundred thousand acres and erected the main ranch house. But in time there were problems, droughts, other tornadoes, wars.

      “The land got carved up into smaller homesteads and sold off to extended family and nonfamily. Some of the ground was maintained for deer and wildlife to flourish, but even that had to go whenever there were hard times. Slowly but surely the land began to fall into other hands.

      “Everything dwindled until there was only a thousand acres left, plus the bungalow and the ranch house. I’m sure that by giving Audra and her cousins those hundred and twenty acres of land in common, Pam’s uncle is down to the bare bones, financially speaking.”

      “Audra’s indebted to you for helping Pam keep the ranch house,” Rick said.

      “Audra’s a sweetheart.”

      A wealth of emotion accompanied his father’s words.

      Resisting the urge to pick the bluebonnet he’d been studying, Rick mounted the mare once more and looked around. The sun had fallen below the horizon. It would be dark soon. He wondered if Audra dreaded the coming of night.

      “We’d better get back.” Clint’s words broke into Rick’s thoughts.

      The horses knew they were going home and made a beeline in the direction of the ranch house. When they eventually came to the creek, Prince forded it first.

      To Rick’s surprise, Marshmallow balked. He didn’t understand and urged her forward with a clicking sound. The next thing he knew, she neighed violently and reared back on her hind legs.

      He glimpsed a snake wrapped around the mare’s right foreleg, silhouetted against the sky. It had to be at least five feet long. The horse came down hard on the snake, screaming and stomping.

      “Get Marshmallow out of here, son. Prince will finish it off!”

      “I’m doing my best, but she’s fighting me!”

      He pulled on the reins, encouraging the horse to turn left. But she was just as determined to kill the viper as Prince was. Snorting hot air, she reared back and struck at the snake again and again.

      Suddenly Rick felt the mare’s hooves slip in the shallows. He jerked his feet from the stirrups to jump off, but he wasn’t fast enough. They went down together with a huge splash.

      The horse landed on her side on top of him. Pain ripped through his left arm and shot to his jaw. Bile rose in his throat.

      Damn—he couldn’t tell if he’d broken something or been bitten. Some venom was so potent it worked immediately. All he knew was that the slightest move he made was excruciating.

      He grabbed for the reins with his right hand. It was a struggle to get up and help the mare to her feet. The poor thing finally stood on all fours, shivering and snorting while water dripped off both of them. She seemed to be all right. It was a miracle.

      On rubber legs Rick led her to dry ground where his father stood next to the bay, gentling him. The muscular snake lay inert in the grass. Prince pawed at it.

      “Thank God that water moccasin didn’t get a chance to sink its fangs into you.”

      “You may have spoken too soon, Dad.” Rick was weaving on his feet. “I’m in pain from my arm to my cheek.”

      “Then you’ve broken something, because Prince pounded that snake to death before you fell in the water.”

      At this juncture Rick was weaving. His dad had to support him.

      “Marshmallow has settled down. Let’s get you up on her and we’ll head back to the house. I’ll call Pam for help.”

      Rick closed his eyes tightly. He would love to tell his father it wasn’t necessary. However, this injury wasn’t like any of the ones he’d received at the track over the years. He didn’t know if he could climb onto the mare. Yet the thought of walking sounded equally untenable.

      If the doctor were to ask what level of pain he was in right now, he’d have to tell him there wasn’t a number high enough.

      AUDRA SAT in one of the living-room chairs with her cast propped on a footstool while her uncle David took charge of the family conference. The kids were in