“Okay.” I wasn’t sure why Marcus was calling to tell me this, but something in the pit of my stomach seemed to get heavy.
“He talked to him about you.”
“About me? What did he say?” With my heart racing, I waited for Marcus’s answer.
“He told Holbrook to leave you alone or he’d have his attorney file an injunction. Whatever Holbrook says? Don’t believe him.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about this, but that pit in my stomach had lodged itself in my throat. “Thanks for the heads-up, Marcus, I appreciate it.”
“Anytime. You know, all this time I thought the two of you hated each other, but after listening to Reid tonight, I’m not so sure.”
“Wonders never cease, huh?”
“Yep, shocked the shit out of me. Talk to you later.”
“Later.”
I sat on my bed, peered out my window, and froze. The sight of that midnight blue Chevy Silverado had my heart racing again, but this time it felt totally different.
I wasn’t sure how long I stared at it as I rubbed my hands back and forth along the old hand-sewn quilt that Mrs. Kinkaide, Marcus’s mother, had made me when I was little. I rolled a piece of loose thread between my fingers and tried to come to grips with how I felt in that moment.
I wasn’t sure how to explain it. It was just . . . I didn’t know . . . different? I didn’t hate Dick—maybe I should get into the habit of calling him Reid. It wasn’t that I hated Reid. I knew I didn’t. But did I like him? More importantly did I want him to like me?
I was still trying to ponder it out when footsteps started up the back stairs to my apartment. There were two ways to get into my apartment, one was from my kitchen area that led down to the stables, which were already locked up for the night, and the other set led from my tiny living room to the side parking area, which was the set that almost no one used.
I was up and out of bed before the footsteps made it to the top landing, and I peered out the window just as Reid Brooks raised his hand to knock. Not thinking, I flipped on the outside lights, and he squinted and shielded his eyes. Shit. I flipped them back off. The poor guy was probably blind.
“Damn it, Holland, you’re going to fucking kill me. Open this damn door.”
I did as he demanded and gave him an apologetic smile. “Yes?”
“May I come in?” He sounded exasperated. I took a step back and let him in. “Next time, don’t flip so many lights on all at once and definitely don’t plunge someone into pitch darkness immediately after. You nearly made me fall ass-backward down the steps.”
I bit my lower lip and fought back the urge to grin. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you aren’t.”
He was right. Although, had he fallen, I would have been. I was always remorseful. “What brings you by?”
He looked around my apartment, and I knew that he was judging me. My whole apartment could fit inside his living room. My place wasn’t fancy, but it was clean, so I wasn’t sure why it seemed as if he was trying not to touch anything. Hello, I always made my bed, and I couldn’t go to sleep with a dirty dish in my sink, which wasn’t really an issue since I ate most meals up at the big house.
“Are these all of you?” He walked over to large photos hanging on the walls. Okay, maybe he shouldn’t grab a white glove or anything, I was not certain about the last time I dusted around my photo frames.
“Yep. My daddy used to buy all the pictures from my competitions. There were always photographers at the arenas to snap a photo of the riders while they were jumping, racing, or roping. When they saw Samuel Kelly, they saw the word sucker written on his forehead. He bought every damn photo. Then he would have several framed.”
“They’re beautiful. You look happy.”
“I loved it. That’s what I would do every day if I could. I’d ride and teach other people to ride Western.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“Not enough time in the day. Not enough space to setup. I need a few more acres to build the right kind of training area so that the horses can truly practice and the riders have plenty of space to learn until they get used to cutting tight corners around barrels.”
“You should be doing this, the look on your face . . . I understand why your dad bought all the photos.” Reid continued examining the pictures. “What would you do with your stables if you had carte blanche ?”
“Why? You’re all proper, I’m Western. We are so different, and you probably will think it is stupid.” I was avoiding his question, but opening up about my dreams somehow made me feel like he was going to judge me or think I was stupid or childish for wanting them.
“I want to learn more about you, you know my dream, I’m living it—I always wanted to have my own stables. Tell me more about what you would do and how you would set it up.”
“I’d build a few loading pins on the back of the stables and then make a giant arena where the horses could run around. It would take up the space where I currently have the paddock so I would have to build a new paddock. Then on the outside of the ring, I’d want some nice wooden benches so the parents could sit and watch if they wanted to. Although I could teach cutting and roping since we have cattle that isn’t really my focus. I want to work on reining, trail riding, and barrel racing. There are several competitions around the state.”
“I love how your eyes light up whenever you talk about horses and what you want to do.” Reid tucked my hair behind one ear.
“Is this why you came over? To talk about my glory days of horse riding?”
“Umm, no.” He took a seat on one of the two recliners in my living room and gestured for me to join him. “I came over to thank you for cleaning up the mess on my house.”
“It was only fair, I caused it.”
He nodded. “I also wanted to tell you that I went up to the Elbow Room tonight and Holbrook was there with Mr. Brown, Kirby, and a few others. He told them the same thing he told you, that I had agreed to sell.”
“You clocked him, didn’t you?”
“I wanted to, but no, I didn’t. I did set them all straight, though.”
“Good.” Interesting that he didn’t seem to want to tell me that he’d threatened Holbrook on my behalf.
“We need that meeting to be sooner rather than later. I originally thought that, once we got some concrete information, we could go to the other ranchers, but now I’m thinking we need to let them know what we’re working on.”
“I agree. No one likes to be left in the dark.” Reid raised one eyebrow. “No. I swear I didn’t mean to try to kill you.” Reid smirked. “Okay, I didn’t mean to try to kill you this time.” I let out a laugh, and he joined me.
“You’re a shit.”
“I really am.” I bit my lower lip as I fought off another round of giggles.
Reid shook his head. “Did you find out anything from the historical society?”
“Actually, I think I might have.” I held up a finger, asking him to give me a second, and then went to find my notebook. Once I was back, I pulled my feet up under me and got comfortable before flipping to the first page of notes. “So, it’s as I said, Osceola lived here and actually had a small settlement on Lake Harney. There’s even an Indian burial mound, but the problem with that is that it’s Timucuan and they’re no longer in existence, which means there isn’t a tribe to appeal to. But all of this is documented so destroying a lot of these ranches would cause a stink since they are near Lake Harney.” I tapped my notepad against one knee. “You know what I was thinking?”
“I have no clue, but you’re going to tell me, right?”
I nodded. “Who decides eminent domain? Politicians. What do politicians rely on? Votes, which are heavily swayed by public opinion. You think any of them want the press that comes along with knowing that they are bulldozing history or turning Indian burial grounds into parking lots? I mean, I have more historical information for us to use, but worse case scenario, couldn’t we just rely on the public jus
tice?”
“We could, but I’d rather have an ace in my hand. My opinion is to never trust anything that you aren’t personally involved with.”
“Okay.” I flipped through a few more pages. “We’ve had several different archeological teams come here because pottery pieces have been found dating back to about five hundred BC era.” I kept talking even though the look on Reid’s face had changed to one of amusement.
“How about wars, were any wars fought on Geneva soil?”
“The Seminole wars were fought here, and the Civil War has some history here. A lot of refugees came into Jacksonville’s port and then fled down the St. John’s River to seek shelter. Until eighteen twenty-one when the United States took ownership of Florida, slavery was illegal, so we were a safe harbor.”
“Anything else? What about the cemetery?”
“The cemetery has seventeen documented civil war soldiers buried in it, and before you ask, no, they weren’t all part of the confederate army, one was actually a union soldier. And are you ready for this?”
“Probably not.” Reid winked and smiled.
“One of the buried soldiers is Lewis Powell—well, only his head is buried there, but that still counts. I guess that was all that was salvaged after he was hung for being part of the conspiracy to kill Abraham Lincoln.”
“So, it’s true that one of the guys was buried here, in this Podunk town?”
“Yep. Not something to put on our Welcome to Geneva sign, huh?”
“Nope, I guess not.”
“I have all the dates listed of each event, names of all the soldiers, and the information about the archeology dig sites. I think we need to contact the US National Parks Services, they’ll be the ones to give us more information about something being declared of historic importance.”
“I’m impressed. I thought that you might find one or two things, but you have a notebook full.” Reid looked more shocked than impressed, but I didn’t comment. “I knew that you would do great, but this is above and beyond what I could have hoped for.”
“Thanks, but it was really Miss Nancy. That woman loves to talk, even when no one is listening.”
“Then I’ll have to admit I’m glad you went and not me. I’m not sure I would have had the patience.”
“No, you probably wouldn’t have.” I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with our banter. The longer he sat across from me, the harder it was for me to keep my attention away from his lips.
“What do you think about us getting the property owners together so that we are all on the same page?”
“I say that we set it up for tomorrow night.”
“At the bar?” Reid asked.
I nodded. “Friday is payday and most of the owners will be up there anyway, so it would probably be the most convenient place for a meeting.”
“Perfect, what if I swing by and pick you up?”
“No need, I can meet you up there.” Spending more time with him than I needed to was a bad, bad idea.
“That’s crazy, we live side by side.”
“I’ll come over to your house and we can ride together.” I needed to have some control because I felt as if I were losing every ounce in his presence.
“Fine. I’ll be ready whenever you get here.”
“We need to talk like this more.” Reid tucked that damn strand of hair that always seemed to fall over my eyes behind my ear before heading for the door. I wanted to ask him to stay, but I couldn’t seem to find the guts to say the words.
Chapter Nine
Reid
Holland walked into my stables, and for a second, I was jealous, not of another person but of my horse. He had his head hanging over his stall door and was basking in the attention that Holland was doling out to him.
“You’re so gorgeous. You just look intimidating, but you’re really a gentle giant, aren’t you?” she crooned, and he whinnied in response, shoving his muzzle closer toward her. “Fine, fine, I’ll keep loving on you. Don’t you get enough attention?” Nostradamus stomped. “Don’t tell me that. I’ve watched you and Reid, I’ve seen the way he treats you. He spoils you, you big fat liar.” She leaned forward and placed several kisses on his long face.
I was so busy listening to her one-sided conversation that I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and ended up kicking a rake. She turned, seeing me for the first time, and I ducked my head, trying to act as if I hadn’t just been eavesdropping. “Oh, you’re here. I was just coming in to tell Syd goodnight before I headed up to the house to wait for you.”
“Who’s Syd?”
“I am.” Syd’s voice came from a stall a few doors down a second before he stuck his head out so she could see him.
“Holland, this is Syd. He’s my stable manager.” Syd was sitting on a stool conditioning the hooves on one of the racing horses that we housed for the winter.
“So, you’re the one who Nostradamus was trying to impress. I heard the way he was talking to you.” Holland smiled brightly, and I found I was jealous again. She had never smiled at me that way.
“He’s very charming.”
“He seemed like he was taken with you, you must have a way with horses. I’d love to see how Hightower responds to you.”
“Who?”
Holland asked at the same time I firmly said, “No!”
She cut me a glare and then turned to Syd. “Who’s Hightower?”
I shook my head, but the old fool wasn’t listening to me, which made sense since, you know, I was only his boss. “He’s a Thoroughbred staying with us. I have a feeling that either his owner or trainer had a heavy hand with a training whip.”
“The asshole,” Holland stated.
“Yep. He’ll let us feed him and clean his stall, but other than that, he shies away from us. He isn’t mean—”
“You don’t know that.” We hadn’t been able to get close enough to really know if the horse was safe or not.
“He isn’t. You can see it in his eyes. He’s got scared eyes not evil eyes,” Syd barked back at me.
“Where is he?”
“Last stall on your left,” Syd said.
“We don’t have time. We need to get up to the bar.”
Holland ignored me, not that I was shocked.
She pulled a peppermint from her pocket—one of those Star-lite mints you grabbed by the handful as you left a restaurant—and tossed it into her mouth. When she got to Hightower’s stall, she began blowing in long, slow exhales.
“What are you doing?”
She waved away my question without looking at me and continued blowing around the smell of peppermint for another minute before saying, “Peppermint is a natural calming remedy for animals. But at the same time, he’s scared of people so I want to mask my human scent somewhat since peppermint is so overpowering.”
“And you just happen to have them on you?”
“I always have them on me just in case I come across any strays or if one of my horses get spooked.” She continued crooning to me about the peppermints as Hightower took a few tentative steps toward her, and then she held out her hand, palm up, and asked, “Can you hand me an apple or carrot?”
I moved to go get one but Syd was already there, holding one of each out to me. “Thanks,” I said as I took both and passed them to Holland.
She chose the carrot, never once stopping with the whole mouth blowing. Hightower took another step forward and stretched his neck toward her. He wasn’t close enough that she could actually get a grip on him, but he was close enough to reach the outstretched carrot. Once he had it, he back-stepped deeper into his stall. “What a good boy.” Holland didn’t move as Hightower chomped. When he was finished, she held out an apple, and this time, Hightower came a few steps closer before taking it and retreating.
“When we come back tonight, do you mind if I see him again?” Holland asked.
“No, not at all,” Syd answered, and she gave him a smile that lit up her entire face. I was glad that Syd had for
ced the issue about Hightower because I enjoyed watching Holland interact with him.
“You ready to go?” I asked, my words sounding more clipped than I had intended. She nodded handing the bucket back over to Syd before she went to the sink near the stable doors and washed her hands.
The Elbow Room was crowded when we got there and we ended up having to park along the street.
“I see what you mean about everyone coming here on payday. I guess I’ve never been up here on a Friday night—or maybe not this early.”
“Yeah, they’ll all clear out before six so they can be home for supper.”
I got out of the truck and hurried around, but by the time I got there, Holland was already shutting the door behind her. I shook my head.
“What?” she snapped.
“Nothing. You ready?”
“Let’s go.” She headed for the heavy wooden door, and I grabbed the handle before she could and pulled it open. “I know how to open a door.”
“I’m sure you do. I wasn’t questioning your ability. I was just being polite.”
She walked in, slowing only long enough for a polite, “Thank you.”
Inside the bar it didn’t take long for me to realize that Holland was right, almost all of the ranchers from the community center meeting were here. Some were sitting at a table talking while others were off having a beer with who were obviously their ranch hands.
“Want to start with Mr. Brown and Mr. Kirby?” Holland tilted her head toward a table where the two sat with another man.
“Who are they with?”
“That’s Everett Yarborough. His family has been part of this community since it began, they have their fingers in everything.”
“I don’t know him.”
“Yeah, he comes in every now and then, he lives in Chuluota.” Chuluota was the next town over, and it was smaller and rural like Geneva. It also had fewer ranches, but the ones it did have had more acreage.
I followed Holland as she headed over to the table and took the last empty seat, which forced me to pull a chair over from another table. “Everett, this is Reid Brooks.”
Steadfast (Iron Horse Book 3) Page 6