Finding Home by Lois Greiman Read Free Book Online

him, wondering at his motives. “Dickey.”
    He grinned as if amused by the cautious tone in her voice and lifted his chin toward Tyler. “Who’s this?”
    Dark curiosity pulled Casie’s gaze toward the trailer, but she refused to be sucked in. “Tyler Roberts,” she introduced. “Dickey—”
    â€œNo kidding.” Dickenson reached past her to shake hands with the boy. “You’re Gil’s kid?”
    Ty nodded, shook the left hand the other offered, and eyed his multicolored cheek.
    Dickenson introduced himself.
    â€œYou know Dickey’s family. They live just around the corner,” Casie said, but the boy didn’t really seem to be listening.
    â€œYou’re Colt Dickenson?” he asked instead.
    â€œSome folks call me that.”
    â€œYou won All-Around in the Roundup.” Tyler Roberts had never looked more serious. And that was saying something.
    â€œYeah.” Dickenson nodded. “I got a couple lucky draws that time around.”
    Casie glanced from one to the other.
    Tyler pursed his lips, then nodded toward the trailer. “You got broncs in there now?”
    â€œWell . . .” Dickenson grinned and turned, striding past the truck bed. “In a manner of speaking, I guess. I picked ’em up fifty miles south of here. Old man that owned ’em moved to Tallahassee a while back. I guess some of ’em was ridden before, but they’ve been roughin’ it by themselves for a while now.”
    â€œSo you bought them for . . .” Casie paused, choosing words carefully in deference to Tyler’s presence. He might act as tough as bull thistle, but even the hardiest weeds can be gooey inside. “For that Toby guy?” Her voice was deadpan. Her stomach was knotted.
    Dickenson shrugged. “Owner just wanted to get rid of ’em. Guess they didn’t fit in his daughter’s town house.”
    After striding closer, Casie could see that six or eight horses were loose in the trailer. They milled a little, but one dark eye continued to stare at her from between the lowest metal slats.
    â€œThere are babies?” she guessed.
    â€œNo newborns. Just a pair of coming yearlings. Couple geldings. An old stag they never got around to cutting. Few pregnant mares.”
    She felt her teeth grind and tried to keep her mouth closed. No luck. “So they’re going to Canada.”
    He gave another half shrug. “They had a few round bales in with ’em for a while, but they’re running on empty now. The grullo’s skinny as a screw. Might not make it all the way to the border.”
    She managed to refrain from wincing, but she wasn’t so lucky with the words. “Chip was a grullo.”
    â€œYour old pleasure gelding?” Dickenson said. “Huh. Those pretty blue-grays are kinda rare. Wouldn’t have thought I’d forget that.” Maybe there was something odd in his tone, but she couldn’t identify it. Couldn’t care. That one dark eye kept calling to her from between the metal slats.
    â€œCouldn’t you . . .” She was close to the trailer now, close enough to smell the animals. Fifty degrees shouldn’t have been warm enough to make them sweat, but fear changed everything. She knew that from experience.
    Casie tightened her fists beside her thighs and tried not to plead. “Couldn’t you take them home? Your dad likes horses. And Sissy . . . your sister . . . she’s good with young stock.”
    â€œHome.” He laughed. “The place is full to the gills with feeder cattle, and Sissy and Carson are expecting their second baby.”
    â€œWhat about your brothers?”
    â€œMarshall’s going to South Dakota State, Shel’s working at the Triple W, and Reese bought himself three hundred acres up by Belle Fourche just about two years ago. Hell, Case, you must have known that.”
    â€œNo, I . . .” She swallowed.