Zac met his gaze. “And what if I decided to do just that?”
“Hell, Zac,” Ty laughed. “I’d consider it a personal favor. I’d even buy your damned ticket to Oklahoma. Come to think on it . . . how’s that hand?”
Zac set down his drink and held it up. His fingers were purple and sausage-like. “Fucked up, but I don’t think anything’s broken. Why?”
“There’s a good chance I’m going to need a new ranch foreman.”
“Wait a minute,” Zac said. “Isn’t that Delaney’s domain now?”
“It’s not Delaney’s place I’m talking about. It’s Tom’s. Or rather, mine now.”
“Yours? So Tom left you the Circle B? What are you looking to do with the place?” Zac asked, trying not to betray his intense interest. Ty had not only offered him a new start doing what he knew best, he’d also given him a second chance with Delaney.
“I want to expand the operation and get back to where I started.”
“Contracting, Ty? Thought you moved out here to get out of it.”
“I did, initially,” Ty said, “but things have changed. My plans have changed. If things work out for this hotel as I hope they do, I’m going to need bucking stock. I figure some of ’em might as well be mine.”
“What about ol’ Bart? Doesn’t he run the place?”
“He’s ’bout ready to retire. I’d be happy to leave him in charge of the beef operation, but I need someone who knows how to handle a rank bull. If you’re ready to hang up your bull spurs, the job’s yours.”
“I’d like more than just a paycheck, Ty. I’m thinking about my future too, and right now it ain’t lookin’ so bright. My place needs too much work. It’ll take every cent I just won just to get it back in operational shape. If you’re looking to contract again, I’d be willing to sell out and invest as your partner.”
“You would?” Ty asked with surprise.
“Damn straight. Bulls are what I love, Ty, but at this stage in the game, I’d be content to flank instead of ride.”
“Hell, Zac. I don’t know what to say. I’d be honored to take you on as a partner.”
Zac’s eyes held Ty’s as he slowly drained his whiskey. Setting the shot glass down, he offered his hand with a smile. “I think you just made me an offer I can’t refuse.”
CHAPTER TWO
Stephens County Expo Center
Duncan, Oklahoma
“Next up is P280, a black frosty neck. This little heifer, by an own son of Little Yellow Jacket out of a Shorty granddaughter, is getting buck and kick from both sides. Just look at her action on the video, folks.” Although she’d watched the same video on YouTube dozens of times, Delaney’s eyes were still riveted to the screen.
She glanced down at the sale catalog as the auctioneer continued, “Her dam has been a great producer, calving numerous champions. This little heifer would make a great foundation cow for a prospective bucking herd.”
Her goal had been to add breeding prospects to her herd, but she had yet to buy even one. The whole auction process had gone so fast it almost made her head spin. P280 was the last heifer, and Delaney was determined to take her home. Truth be told, she had enough money to match most any bid in the house, but she wasn’t looking to lose her ass just for the sake of pride.
Maybe injured pride was the original impetus behind her livestock operation, with more than a dash of desire for some payback, but not anymore. What had begun purely on a whim was now her obsession—not just to breed genetically superior livestock, but to be regarded as a contender in the male-dominated world of stock contracting.
The chute opened, and P280 trotted out and spun to regard the crowd, looking as proud as a queen amongst her court. Then again, her bloodline was surely the bluest of bovines’. The bidding began at three thousand. Who could have known how damned competitive it would be?
Delaney was first to raise her paddle, only to be overlooked by the auctioneer.
“I got three. Three thousand. Gimme thirty-five hundred? Thirty-five? Thirty-five for this pretty little heifer?”
Listening intently for the almost unintelligible numbers as the auctioneer began his chant, she raised her paddle again.
“Gimme thirty five hundred? Abletobid thirty-five?”
Was the man near-sighted or was this some kind of conspiracy? She threw the catalog down with a huff of frustration.
“You wanting to bid on that heifer?” came a gravelly baritone from behind.
She twisted in her seat, to meet a familiar deep green gaze shadowed by a well-worn Stetson. Zac McDaniel’s appearance at the auction was a complete surprise. Last she’d heard, he was in Las Vegas with Ty.
“Zac? What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Same thing as you.” He raised his paddle to the auctioneer.
The auctioneer nodded in Zac’s direction. “Yep. Yep. Thirty-five. Four. Four thousand, anyone?”
“Did you just bid on my heifer?” she asked in annoyance.