Read Online Daddy Wore Spurs (Mills & Boon Cherish) (Men of the West, Book 32) by Stella Bagwell - Free Book Online
Authors: Stella Bagwell
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That was the first time in his adult life that he’d ended a conversation with his father on a tense note, and the realization bothered him. But as much as he loved and respected his father, it was time that Finn stood alone as his own man.
And whether the decisions he made about Harry and Mariah turned out to be right or wrong, or made with his head or his heart, they had to be Finn’s own decisions.
Chapter Four
T he conversation with his father was still buzzing in his head as Finn walked over to a tall board corral. Inside the enclosure, a group of mares stood dozing beneath a pair of aspen trees. The only mustangs that had ever run over Horn range were the wild ones that just happened to stray onto the ranch’s property. When that occurred, the ranch hands were promptly sent out to round up the wild horses and haul them back to their allotted rangeland. But if Finn had his own land, he could put as many mustangs on it as he wanted. He could breed and train them without any interference from his family.
Up until now, he’d only dreamed of finding a piece of land in the Carson City area that possessed sustainable grazing and water supply. But now that Harry had come into his life, the idea of becoming more independent had not only germinated; it was rapidly growing.
“I was beginning to think you’d gotten kicked in the head or something. You’ve been out here for a long time.”
Mariah’s voice had Finn turning to see her walking toward him with Harry riding happily in the crook of her arm. A billed cap was on the baby’s head to shield his eyes from the late evening sun, while Mariah’s red boots had been replaced by a pair of brown ones that were scuffed and scarred with wear.
“Sorry I worried you,” he said. “I’ve been taking my time looking things over.” He didn’t add that he’d been talking to his father. Sharing the gist of their conversation would only upset her.
When she joined him at the fence, Finn immediately reached for Harry and positioned the boy against his shoulder. Soft baby scents instantly drifted to his nostrils, and the bright, eager gaze in the boy’s blue eyes touched something deep inside him. Harry would grow to be a man of the land. Somehow Finn was certain of that. Just as certain as he knew that having a son was going to change the direction of his own life.
Mariah said, “Before Dad died, horses were everywhere. The barns were always freshly painted, the fences erect. Hay and grain would be stacked to the ceiling and there were plenty of ranch hands to deal with the chores. Now it’s a ghostly place.”
The pensive note he heard in her voice told Finn she wasn’t quite as indifferent to her longtime home as she’d first led him to believe.
“It would thrive again,” he told her. “In the right hands.”
Her sigh was so faint it was barely discernible to his ears. “Maybe the next person can make it successful again. But if I had all the money in the world I wouldn’t sink it back into this place.”
If one of his brothers spoke in such a negative way about the Silver Horn, Finn would be livid. Passing down the land and legacy was important to every Calhoun family member. If necessary, each one of them would fight with his dying breath to save what their forefathers had worked so hard to build. It was hard to understand Mariah’s lack of fight to save her home.
He studied her profile. “I can’t decide if you love this place or hate it.”
“I don’t hate the ranch or the horses. I guess my feelings are mixed,” she admitted.
“Considering all that’s happened, I’d probably be feeling mixed up, too.”
Her head turned toward him and Finn watched the warm wind play with the baby-fine tendrils at her hairline. The black curls were a vivid contrast against her creamy skin, and for a moment Finn wondered how her skin would taste. How would she react if he placed his lips against her temple?
As the erotic questions swirled through his head,
And whether the decisions he made about Harry and Mariah turned out to be right or wrong, or made with his head or his heart, they had to be Finn’s own decisions.
Chapter Four
T he conversation with his father was still buzzing in his head as Finn walked over to a tall board corral. Inside the enclosure, a group of mares stood dozing beneath a pair of aspen trees. The only mustangs that had ever run over Horn range were the wild ones that just happened to stray onto the ranch’s property. When that occurred, the ranch hands were promptly sent out to round up the wild horses and haul them back to their allotted rangeland. But if Finn had his own land, he could put as many mustangs on it as he wanted. He could breed and train them without any interference from his family.
Up until now, he’d only dreamed of finding a piece of land in the Carson City area that possessed sustainable grazing and water supply. But now that Harry had come into his life, the idea of becoming more independent had not only germinated; it was rapidly growing.
“I was beginning to think you’d gotten kicked in the head or something. You’ve been out here for a long time.”
Mariah’s voice had Finn turning to see her walking toward him with Harry riding happily in the crook of her arm. A billed cap was on the baby’s head to shield his eyes from the late evening sun, while Mariah’s red boots had been replaced by a pair of brown ones that were scuffed and scarred with wear.
“Sorry I worried you,” he said. “I’ve been taking my time looking things over.” He didn’t add that he’d been talking to his father. Sharing the gist of their conversation would only upset her.
When she joined him at the fence, Finn immediately reached for Harry and positioned the boy against his shoulder. Soft baby scents instantly drifted to his nostrils, and the bright, eager gaze in the boy’s blue eyes touched something deep inside him. Harry would grow to be a man of the land. Somehow Finn was certain of that. Just as certain as he knew that having a son was going to change the direction of his own life.
Mariah said, “Before Dad died, horses were everywhere. The barns were always freshly painted, the fences erect. Hay and grain would be stacked to the ceiling and there were plenty of ranch hands to deal with the chores. Now it’s a ghostly place.”
The pensive note he heard in her voice told Finn she wasn’t quite as indifferent to her longtime home as she’d first led him to believe.
“It would thrive again,” he told her. “In the right hands.”
Her sigh was so faint it was barely discernible to his ears. “Maybe the next person can make it successful again. But if I had all the money in the world I wouldn’t sink it back into this place.”
If one of his brothers spoke in such a negative way about the Silver Horn, Finn would be livid. Passing down the land and legacy was important to every Calhoun family member. If necessary, each one of them would fight with his dying breath to save what their forefathers had worked so hard to build. It was hard to understand Mariah’s lack of fight to save her home.
He studied her profile. “I can’t decide if you love this place or hate it.”
“I don’t hate the ranch or the horses. I guess my feelings are mixed,” she admitted.
“Considering all that’s happened, I’d probably be feeling mixed up, too.”
Her head turned toward him and Finn watched the warm wind play with the baby-fine tendrils at her hairline. The black curls were a vivid contrast against her creamy skin, and for a moment Finn wondered how her skin would taste. How would she react if he placed his lips against her temple?
As the erotic questions swirled through his head,
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