LITMIR.BIZ

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but they could be taught manners. Midnight needed to learn some, or relearn them in his case.

      “What happened to you after Wally got sick?”

      Midnight snorted and stared inquisitively at Ace, all traces of fight and flightiness gone.

      Was being bred to Miss Kitty or something else responsible for the difference?

      An idea came to Ace. He jumped into his Polaris and drove to his office at the clinic. There, he made a phone call to Wally Dunlap’s son, glad to reach the man on his first attempt, and identified himself as the new owner of Midnight.

      “Can you tell me something about him?” he asked.

      “Like what?”

      “His history. Any problems. His care and routine.”

      “I’ll try. I wasn’t very involved in Dad’s business.”

      “Did your father pasture Midnight with other horses or in separate quarters?”

      “Both, I think. He had a system. Might have had to do with the season. Sometimes Midnight was in the pasture with other horses, sometimes by himself.”

      “Were the horses mares?”

      “Could have been. Though, honestly, I don’t remember Midnight being all that aggressive with geldings or other stallions, unless there was a mare in heat. Even then, he was able to be restrained. Dad couldn’t have competed him in rodeos otherwise.”

      What Wally’s son said was true.

      “About the livestock foreman you hired, did he keep to your dad’s system?”

      “No. He said he preferred to house studs away from the other horses.”

      Ace asked the man a number of additional questions before thanking him and disconnecting.

      He found his mother in her office on the opposite side of the barn.

      “You going to be home for dinner tonight?” She closed the ledger she’d been reading and shut off her computer. “I’m making chili and corn bread.”

      “That’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

      “It’ll be ready in a couple hours. How’s Miss Kitty?”

      “No worse for the wear.” He sat in her visitor chair. “I spoke to Wally Dunlap’s son just now.”

      “You called him?”

      “I wanted information. I’m thinking of putting Midnight in the pasture with a few mares.”

      She drew back in surprise. “Is that wise?”

      “According to Wally’s son, Midnight got along with other horses and was regularly put to pasture with them.” Ace summarized his phone conversation. “I think it’s worth a try.”

      “When are you going to test your theory?”

      “This afternoon. He’s as calm as I’ve ever seen him.”

      “And if he hurts the mares like he did Miss Kitty?”

      “We’ll have him on a twenty-four-hour watch.”

      “You can’t stay up all night.”

      “Gracie, Harlan and Royce will help. We’ll take turns.”

      His mother smiled. “I’m glad you’re not giving up on him. Or yourself.”

      “I still believe Midnight’s the right horse for us to build our breeding business.”

      “That kind of tenacity will win over Flynn.”

      “You think?”

      Her smile widened. “I’m counting on it.”

      So was Ace.

      * * *

      “HE’S A BRAND-NEW HORSE!” Gracie grinned exuberantly.

      “I wouldn’t go that far.” Ace downplayed his excitement, which exceeded Gracie’s. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself only to be disappointed.

      They’d pastured Midnight with the mares nearly a full twenty-four hours ago and, so far, it was going well. Really well.

      “You have to admit,” Gracie insisted, “beauty soothes the savage beast.”

      “Midnight clearly likes the ladies.”

      He reminded Ace more of a besotted puppy than a beast, following the mares around and pleading for their attention. What had happened to the fiery stallion from yesterday?

      Ace had carefully selected the six mares he’d put with Midnight. All but one were from Wally Dunlap’s string. At the last minute, Ace decided to include Fancy Gal. She possessed a solid, dependable temperament he hoped would rub off on Midnight.

      One of the mares gave Midnight a little warning kick.

      “I bet she won’t be so standoffish next week,” Gracie observed.

      Probably not. Mares’ cycles often accelerated when they were in the vicinity of a stallion.

      “We need to diligently monitor them,” Ace said. “If Midnight shows the least sign of aggression, I want him moved straightaway.”

      “I’m betting that won’t happen.”

      Ace tended to agree. Right now, Midnight looked ready to roll over and have his tummy scratched.

      “You came up with a good idea, boss.”

      “I don’t know about that. Pasture breeding works fine for our mares. Any potential clients will want their mares hand bred.”

      Or inseminated artificially, but Ace was determined to worry about one obstacle at a time. Today, that was modifying Midnight’s behavior enough to ensure a decent crop of foals next spring. Breeding season in Montana lasted only until the end of June. They either saw immediate progress or made the difficult decision to sell Midnight while there was still time to acquire another stud.

      A few of the more friendly mares meandered over to the fence for the homemade horse treats Ace had gotten from Angie Barrington’s horse rescue. He and Gracie willingly obliged them.

      “Have you decided which of the livestock to take to the Torrington Rodeo?”

      “True Grit, definitely, and I’d like to try Razorback. He’s showing a lot of potential.”

      For the next several minutes, Ace and Gracie talked shop.

      “I’d better see how that mechanic’s coming along,” Gracie said. “He promised to have the tractor repaired before the evening feeding.” She sped off in one of the ranch’s numerous ATVs.

      The horses, startled by the noise, galloped away, stopping just as abruptly at the fence to nibble on lush green grass. All except for Midnight. He’d set his sights on Fancy Gal, perhaps because she was new.

      “You like ’em a little older, huh?” Ace chuckled to himself as the stallion put on a show, prancing in circles around the mare, giving her affectionate nuzzles and nips on the neck and rump.

      She took it all in stride, mostly ignoring him—which only encouraged him to try harder.

      “She’s a tough one, boy. You might pick a different mare.”

      There was no accounting for love, and Midnight had been hit hard. He continued courting Fancy Gal, to no avail.

      Ace was about to leave when Fancy Gal suddenly displayed a change of heart. Nickering softly, she returned Midnight’s nuzzles.

      “Well, I’ll be damned.”

      The old girl wasn’t so tough after all.

      When Ace finally left several minutes later, the two horses were standing side by side, head to tail, Midnight

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