Page 52 of Wrangled

He leaned on the fence. “You feel better after your soak?”

“Yeah, but I know it’s temporary. I’m not looking forward to the aches I’m going to wake up with.” I smiled. “They’ll pass.”

Zeeb snorted. “I hate to break it to ya, but your arms are gonna hurt like a son of a bitch tomorrow. Grooming one horse? That’s not so bad. Grooming ten?”

“And whose idea was that?” I retorted. “In whose bed do I leave a little surprise as a thank you gift?”

“What kind of gift were you thinking of? A scorpion? A turd?”

I grinned. “I was thinking more along the lines of a toy snake. Nothing dangerous, but it’d give ’em a fright.”

Zeeb cackled. “I like the way you think.” He stared out at the horizon. “Sure is beautiful.”

I had to agree.

“Tomorrow afternoon I’ll give you a lesson in roping. Gotta get you ready for the cattle drive, right?”

I was looking forward to it. Then I reconsidered. “You’re not expecting me to throw a champion-class lariat, are you? After the dayI’vehad?”

Zeeb gave a hoot. “If you can throw it just once, that’ll be something. I’ll take whatever you can give me.” He pointed to the landscape before us. “You think this looks good? Wait till you see the valley where we take the herd. Right about now, it’ll be lush and green, with the river snaking through it. Under the trees it’s cool and shady. Of course, we have to keep a watch for wolves, but you don’t need to worry about that. Most of us are a crack shot.” He flashed me a grin. “Matt can’t shoot to save his life, but we don’t mind none. He’ll be there to cook.”

“So who’ll feed the boss? Or does he come too?”

Zeeb’s smile faltered. “He used to. He hasn’t been on a cattle drive for a few years, though. But he sends Matt so we don’t starve. We take about ten guys with us, but most of us only stay two, three nights up there. The others will stay with the herd until it’s time to bring ’em home.”

I was dying to ask why Robert had stopped participating.

We fell silent for a while, both of us gazing at the horizon. Except now that I had him alone, therewassomething I’d wanted to ask.

“Zeeb… That’s kind of unusual. Is it your real name or a nickname?”

That got me another snort. “I don’t tellanyonemy real name. Zeeb is all they get.”

I grinned. “Now youknowI’ve got to take a guess.”

He returned my grin. “Give it your best shot.”

I went with the first thing that came into my head. “Zebadiah.”

His eyes widened. “What the fuck?”

“It’s the name of a character from one of my favorite books. Zebadiah Carter from—”

“The Number of the Beast, by Robert Heinlein.”

I chuckled. “I nailed it, didn’t I?”

“It was my mom’s favorite book too. I think it came out a few years before I was born.”

“Have you read it?”

He pulled a face. “Hell no. I don’t read shit like that.” His eyes sparkled. “I’m more your one-handed-reads kinda guy.” I sprayed beer over the railing, and he cackled. “I know. Shocker, ain’t it?”

I wiped my lips. “In the book, Zebadiah’s nickname was Zebby. You could have had that as your name.”

He arched his eyebrows. “Now, do I look like a Zebby to you?”

I chuckled. “Maybe not. I’d have thought Zeb was closer to Zebadiah, though.”