The Wild Bunch 3 Casa Read Online Free PDF Page B

even call for hiring one of the local bands that played for dances and get-togethers. Such events were well attended by local ranch families and even some folks from town, and Casa liked the music he had heard.
    Before he was quite ready, they pulled into the ranch yard. After Jason got out, Casa tossed him the keys. "Here. You'll be driving yourself again from now on, I reckon."
    Jason caught them neatly. Already he seemed to be past the brief but heady mix of beer and post-cast euphoria. He nodded. "Thanks for playing chauffer for me the past few weeks. It's been hard, not being able to do that and a lot more, but I'll be up to speed soon."
    Casa nodded, trying not to let the end of this brief period of closeness bother him. It had been too good to last. "Yep, can't keep a good man down..."
    As he started away, he was anything but and he didn't dare look back to see if Jason had a similar reaction. If there had been a few more miles between town and the ranch, who knows what might have happened. A couple of times he had sensed Jason was about to reach across the cab and-- But no, that was foolish, wishful thinking.
    He picked up his pace almost to a trot, thinking ahead to more plans for the barbeque with his buddies. At first, he'd had some doubts, but could be Stace was right. Getting Jason and Jared together, forcing them to interact might be the best thing they could possibly do.

    * * * *
    Meanwhile, Jason headed up the low steps to the veranda of the big house, trying not to let the stiffness of his right knee and ankle show in his gait. He glanced back once, but Casa was striding briskly toward the bunkhouse, almost to the open door where a beam of light shone out into the dusk.
    He exhaled in a slow sigh, mixing relief and regret. Don't even think of calling him back. Whatever was going on while we were coming back from town was mostly beer talking, beer and relief from getting out of that fuckin' cast. Be glad you didn't get stupid and say or do something you can't undo. Life doesn't have a rewind or a delete key.
    He could not help but wonder, though. What if he'd given in to the urge to reach across and lay a hand on Casa's muscular rider's thigh, told him to pull off onto one of the dirt roads branching from the highway. He'd have stopped the truck in the shadows and...
    At the thought, he went so hard he ached, even worse than on the drive home. I've gotta get myself in hand here. Things may be changing for the ranch, but not that much and not yet. If Stace and Spark actually leave, some of the younger wranglers take over the special guests, and Casa is still hanging around... He shook his head. That was counting way too many unhatched chickens.

    * * * *
    "Hey, that's a great idea, Casa. Why didn't I think of it?" Spark's enthusiasm revealed he really liked the idea of hiring a band. "It's kinda short notice, but I haven't heard of any local dances that weekend so we can probably get the Wagon Wheel Wranglers."
    Stace nodded, grinning. "Yeah, here at the ranch, nobody's gonna think anything of it if we dance with each other. After all, there prob'ly won't be any women around, anyway."
    "Back in the old days," Spark added, "the miners and cowboys would dance with each other. Read it in a book once and they did it in that movie Paint Your Wagon my sister used to watch all the time."
    Miguel had cozied up to Dough Boy and gotten him to agree to cook for the event. They'd already ordered a quarter of beef to barbeque and a twenty-five pound bag of beans. The beans could simmer in two huge Dutch ovens over the same coals that cooked the meat in a twelve-hour session. There would be big bowls of coleslaw, piles of biscuits, and probably some sides of tamales, tacos and enchiladas. For dessert, plenty of homemade ice cream and pans of peach cobbler.
    Casa's mouth watered at the vision of all that good food. Of course, they'd have plenty of cold sodas and beer as well, and the ever-present five-gallon camp coffeepot