Carrillo's Cowboy by Tee Smith (classic novels to read .txt) 📗

had already had her fair share of being played. She wasn’t going there again.

Scooping up the reins, she whistled to the girls: Marla and Kimba, two chestnut mares, mother and daughter. Kimba had been the last foal her father had broken in before his death; she hadn’t known at that time how unwell he was. She’d been so busy with her city life. Working in corporate events management, raising her son and daughter, being Adam’s wife. Something she now regretted with all her being. Time with her father was something she would never get back.

A soft nuzzling broke her out of her reverie, and she laughed before stroking Marla’s cheek. She had been her father Vin’s favourite, and now she was Callie’s favourite too. The mare loved a good run, and she knew she needed to take her out more. Unfortunately, running the farm successfully the way she would like, was a full-time job all on its own, and she couldn’t afford that. Without the income from the rodeo, there was no way the farm could stay afloat.

“What a beautiful girl.” She heard Cody’s deep voice before she saw him, but within seconds he came into view, stroking Kimba’s neck.

“They both are,” she replied. “This here, Marla, is her Mum.”

“You did a good job there, Marla,” he spoke as if she could understand. Sometimes, Callie thought they could, especially when the horse responded with a soft whinny.

“I need to spend more time with her. I think they really miss my dad.”

“How long has he been gone?”

“Eighteen months,” she replied sadly. “He was ill for a while. I came back here to help him with the place. Stubborn old man.” She shook her head. “I think he was sick for a lot longer than I knew about.”

“Cancer?”

She nodded sadly. “Yep. He refused treatment. Reckoned it would make him sicker. He worked the farm, though, right up until a month before he passed away.”

“What about your mum?”

Callie raised and dropped her shoulders. “I haven’t seen her since I was twelve. She just up and left one morning. Dad never spoke of her again. We just got on with life without her.”

“Sheesh, that’s harsh.”

“It’s just the way it is,” Callie sighed. She hadn’t reflected on it much until now. Now that her daughter was the same age, she couldn’t imagine how a mother could leave without a trace. She knew life was hard on the farm, and her dad hadn’t been the easiest man to live with, but he’d never laid a finger on either of them in anger. Not that she knew of anyway.

“That’s enough about me, we’ve got work to do.” She looped the horse’s reins around the gate and turned for the stable.

With the horses saddled up, they headed toward the southern end of the property. Callie led the way, with Cody by her side. It wasn’t long before they found the mob, and slipping in behind them, had them heading back to the yards. The young calves running at their mother’s sides. Today, they would tag them all and band the bully calves before turning them back out into the lot.

In the past season, one of the local town men had come and helped her out. She was grateful for their support. Old Vin Carrillo was well known and respected in Harlow’s Bend. When he had passed, the entire town had attended his service.

He had worked tirelessly over the years, running the rodeos, which always brought much-needed tourist dollars to the town. Now he had passed that mantle down to her. She only hoped that she could do justice to the old man’s legacy.

Chapter Four

It felt good to be back in the saddle again. It had been far too long. His mum had said he’d been born in boots. He never felt more at home than on the back of a horse. He preferred horseback over a vehicle any day, only it wasn’t an option too often.

Born and raised in cattle country, his parents had moved around from place to place. Cattle workers mainly, jack and jillaroo settled on outback stations. He had travelled with them until he reached high school age. That was when they’d decided he needed a stable home and sent him to live in Sydney with his grandparents. He hated it. The city had never felt like home. That was when he started attending rodeos. Often catching a Greyhound bus or hitchhiking if he couldn’t afford the fare.

A cowboy by the name of Weed had got him into bull-riding, although roping was more his thing. He wasn’t the best, but he made a few dollars and paid for his accommodations. Weed, as his name suggested, was a scrawny guy. One could be excused for thinking he wouldn’t be able to ride a half tonne beast, but Weed was not one to be told he couldn’t do anything. He could ride with the best of them, his wiry frame and agility making up for his otherwise lack of stature.

“Thanks for all your help today. Do you wanna come over to the house for a beer?” Callie asked as they dismounted their steeds.

He liked her, apart from her obvious good looks, she was a good horsewoman. He was impressed with the way she had handled the mare. Many people could ride, but few rode like they were in tune with their horse. Woman and horse rode like they could read the other. It had been a beautiful thing to watch.

“Yeah, sure,” Cody replied as he took his hat from his head and wiped his brow. The day’s sweat and dust mingled, leaving a streak of red dirt in its wake.

Callie stifled a giggle. “You might want to get cleaned up first. I tell you what; I have to get the kids from the bus in, ah . . .” she looked at her wrist. A gemstone-studded watch adorned her left forearm, completely at odds with her ripped blue jeans, and worn checked shirt. “Ten minutes. How