made a wide turn in the dry pasture, kicking up small clouds of dust, and pulled the trailer back to the gate opening before coming to a stop.
“Pull that gate against the side, will ya?” she asked, motioning in accompaniment to her words as she climbed out.
Travis pulled the gate flush with the sides of the trailer while the stock bellowed in their excitement to be home. A lanky wrangler jogged from the barn.
“Hey, Glory,” he called. “How’d it go?”
“Good,” she grunted. With his help, she put the ramp in place before she lifted the latch, stepped back, and pulled the door wide. A red-and-white face poked from inside. The steer bawled, then leaped from the confined space. Two others followed, and Glory swung up to move the second partition away. A deeper voice echoed from the shadows. “Go on, Grave Digger,” she replied as the big Brahma circled and looked at her before ambling toward the exit. Once on the ground, the bull bellowed one last time before walking away.
Glory grinned and stepped across to the opening. Her eyes followed the animal as he trotted to the center of the pasture before stopping to lift his magnificent head and stare back. He truly was handsome, as bulls go. All the hard work she and her father had put in seemed to be paying off. Grave Digger was the best the Glory B had to offer. She leaned against the metal side of the trailer and watched him survey his domain before giving a shake of his head and moving off.
Glory stepped down and glanced at the wrangler. “Give me a hand if you will.” Together the two hefted the metal ramp and door and swung the latches into place.
“That’s one proud bull,” Travis murmured.
“He is that,” Glory agreed. “Jeremy, pull the trailer to the barn and unhitch it, will you? I’m going to show our guest to the house.”
“Sure will.” The ranch hand nodded. “Welcome to the Glory B, Mr. Hargrove.”
Both she and Travis stepped back to allow the rig to rumble away. Then, working together, they closed the gates and secured the lock so the cattle remained behind. Once all was secure, she turned to the tall Texas cowboy standing at her side. “Let me take you up to the house to meet Alma, Mr. Hargrove.”
“How about you call me Travis?”
She swallowed. “I’d like that, if you’ll call me Glory.”
“I’d be pleased to, Miss Glory.”
Glory couldn’t contain the grin that followed. She held out her hand in a genuine gesture. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay, Travis.”
He reached for her hand. As their fingers touched, a jolt of electricity hit her. Glory blinked, surprised by the intensity, and pulled her hand back. Almost breathless, her gaze flew to his face. Beneath the shadow of his hat she could see the a startled expression in his eyes.
The air around them seemed to crackle. Unsure what to do with her hands, she slid them into her back pockets and looked down at her feet, hoping to control the wild beat of her heart. All of a sudden, she was shy and tongue-tied. She shrugged her shoulders and tried to brush it off. “How about we go over to the house, and I’ll get the key and show you the mansion, as Alma calls it. That’s where you’ll be staying.”
“Sure,” he murmured as they fell into step together. “How many acres you have here?” he asked over the sound of their boot heels grinding the gravel.
“All totaled, about two hundred and fifty,” she said. “We keep fifty acres of pasture here around the barns. To the south, we’ve got some good farm land that provides hay and corn. The rest sit over there.” She pointed toward the gently rolling hills. “Lots of good grass, plenty of water, everything a cow could want, right here on the Glory B Ranch.” Her words had a wistful note.
“Nice.”
Glory flashed a grin. “It is. My dad bought this place from Mitch Ralston’s folks. I kind of think they didn’t expect him to take ranching serious.”
“Who, your father?”
“Yes. With him
“Pull that gate against the side, will ya?” she asked, motioning in accompaniment to her words as she climbed out.
Travis pulled the gate flush with the sides of the trailer while the stock bellowed in their excitement to be home. A lanky wrangler jogged from the barn.
“Hey, Glory,” he called. “How’d it go?”
“Good,” she grunted. With his help, she put the ramp in place before she lifted the latch, stepped back, and pulled the door wide. A red-and-white face poked from inside. The steer bawled, then leaped from the confined space. Two others followed, and Glory swung up to move the second partition away. A deeper voice echoed from the shadows. “Go on, Grave Digger,” she replied as the big Brahma circled and looked at her before ambling toward the exit. Once on the ground, the bull bellowed one last time before walking away.
Glory grinned and stepped across to the opening. Her eyes followed the animal as he trotted to the center of the pasture before stopping to lift his magnificent head and stare back. He truly was handsome, as bulls go. All the hard work she and her father had put in seemed to be paying off. Grave Digger was the best the Glory B had to offer. She leaned against the metal side of the trailer and watched him survey his domain before giving a shake of his head and moving off.
Glory stepped down and glanced at the wrangler. “Give me a hand if you will.” Together the two hefted the metal ramp and door and swung the latches into place.
“That’s one proud bull,” Travis murmured.
“He is that,” Glory agreed. “Jeremy, pull the trailer to the barn and unhitch it, will you? I’m going to show our guest to the house.”
“Sure will.” The ranch hand nodded. “Welcome to the Glory B, Mr. Hargrove.”
Both she and Travis stepped back to allow the rig to rumble away. Then, working together, they closed the gates and secured the lock so the cattle remained behind. Once all was secure, she turned to the tall Texas cowboy standing at her side. “Let me take you up to the house to meet Alma, Mr. Hargrove.”
“How about you call me Travis?”
She swallowed. “I’d like that, if you’ll call me Glory.”
“I’d be pleased to, Miss Glory.”
Glory couldn’t contain the grin that followed. She held out her hand in a genuine gesture. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay, Travis.”
He reached for her hand. As their fingers touched, a jolt of electricity hit her. Glory blinked, surprised by the intensity, and pulled her hand back. Almost breathless, her gaze flew to his face. Beneath the shadow of his hat she could see the a startled expression in his eyes.
The air around them seemed to crackle. Unsure what to do with her hands, she slid them into her back pockets and looked down at her feet, hoping to control the wild beat of her heart. All of a sudden, she was shy and tongue-tied. She shrugged her shoulders and tried to brush it off. “How about we go over to the house, and I’ll get the key and show you the mansion, as Alma calls it. That’s where you’ll be staying.”
“Sure,” he murmured as they fell into step together. “How many acres you have here?” he asked over the sound of their boot heels grinding the gravel.
“All totaled, about two hundred and fifty,” she said. “We keep fifty acres of pasture here around the barns. To the south, we’ve got some good farm land that provides hay and corn. The rest sit over there.” She pointed toward the gently rolling hills. “Lots of good grass, plenty of water, everything a cow could want, right here on the Glory B Ranch.” Her words had a wistful note.
“Nice.”
Glory flashed a grin. “It is. My dad bought this place from Mitch Ralston’s folks. I kind of think they didn’t expect him to take ranching serious.”
“Who, your father?”
“Yes. With him
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