Saddles & Sabotage

by Nellie K Neves

  “Two-Bit and Phoenix will take the overnight with the Hutches, and Alexis you’re going along to cook?”

  I heard Alexis reply, “That’s the plan.”

  Tate continued. “We have one morning ride into the valley, and then an all-day to the river. Who’s taking the all day?”

  There was silence, not an average silence, but an uncomfortable silence I could feel pressing me down against the table.

  “Come on,” Tate pressed, “it’s not that bad.”

  I’d heard that the tips were awful after an all-day ride, and had heard a few of the horror stories about being stuck with the same rude guests for a solid eight hours. Dixie had told me that one time her guests had gotten tired of riding and opted to walk back on their own. That left her with five horses to pony back to the ranch. An entire day spent in a saddle sounded appealing to most guests, but the reality of the sore rear and tired muscles often proved worse than they’d imagined.

  Even with all that knowledge, my hand came up off the table, though my head stayed put. “I’ll take it,” I said, my voice muffled by the table.

  Tate had obviously intended for Dixie to take the ride and he wasn’t pleased by my sacrifice. “You won’t remember the trail, Cassidy.”

  “I’ll take her,” I heard Dallas say. My head popped up from the table in surprise and found his smug smile flashing in my direction from across the table. “She needs to learn the trail, right?”

  “It’s your day off,” Tate advised him.

  Dallas let his bashful gaze fall as he said, “I don’t mind. It’s not a bad way to spend a day.”

  Tate wasn’t happy, but he had no reason to upset the balance. “Then Dixie, you have the valley rides today.”

  Conversation continued all around me, but I focused on my food and wondered what I’d gotten myself into.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  During the short time I’d been at Rockin’ B, I’d become adept at getting the rides out, but being the one to leave took me back to rookie status. Alexis didn’t help my confusion as she shoved me toward Toby and barked orders across the yard. I swung up easily, new muscles fully responsive after a week’s worth of riding. Dallas waited on his horse, Rocky. I paused to let him do the safety speech that Dixie always handled on our rides. One of his eyebrows jutted up beneath his hat, as if to ask what I was waiting for. The message was unspoken but clear, “This is your ride. You do it.”

  I took a deep breath and looked over my group, a father, a mother, and twin teenage boys. “Hi, my name is Cassidy, and this is Dallas. We’ll be taking you out today.” The safety speech rolled off my tongue with little effort. I regurgitated everything I’d heard three times a day from Dixie over the past week.

  “I’ll be leading the group at the front,” Dallas said as he took over. “We’ll head out and find the river trail; it’ll be a few hours along the trail until we get to the waterfall. We’ll stop there, and break for lunch for an hour or two, and then come home again.”

  Dallas was at home in the saddle, his bashful demeanor gone for the moment, confident and secure in everything he did, as if the horse was merely an appendage of his own body. While I still struggled with my reins and posture, he twitched a leg muscle and his horse responded. It was like watching one of the cowboys from an old movie my father used to watch, and it was easy to wonder how it would feel to—

  I stopped myself. I wasn’t Cassidy. I was Lindy and another victim had died on my watch. There was work to do and no time to fantasize about the handsome cowboy.

  We moved out slowly, and I speculated if it was really an all-day ride, or if wranglers were trained in keeping the pace slow to stretch it out. Aspen rose up around us as we left the ranch and found the trail. Dallas led his horse by the pressure of his legs as he spoke to the guests behind him. Riding almost sideways, he pointed to trees, talked about the river and answered questions about the wildlife we might encounter. There was nothing striking about him. He wasn’t like Ryder or Wiley with overt handsomeness, but he was attractive. His face was slender, and always clean shaven. Though his lips were thin, they spread into a smile often. His olive skin tone had been darkened by his days in the sun. He’d be lanky if compared to Wiley, but only because Wiley was thick. In the real world, Dallas would be considered long and athletic.

  He caught me watching him and I turned away to study the trees around me before he could see my interest.

  “How are you doing back there, Cass? Paying attention?” he called back to me.

  The four heads of the guests turned and looked back at me expectantly. I was sure my face glowed red. “Just taking notes,” I called back.

  He laughed and eased his horse over a fallen log. The path emptied out into an open meadow of tall yellow grass. “Give your horse some rein through here, there can be holes and sometimes snakes. If she starts to bolt, pull back and say whoa.”

  In the distance, on the other side of the meadow, I could see the green of a pond, and six cabins, all older and more rudimentary than my own. Smoke rose from the chimney of one of the cabins and thankfully a guest asked before I could.

  “Does someone live there?”

  “Our caretaker, Tumbleweed Tim lives there. These are the original cabins that were used when the Rockin’ B was first built. There was a main homestead here in the meadow, but it was destroyed in a fire. The original owners, the grandparents to our current owners, opted to build in a new location to avoid the scarred trees of the meadow.”

  The burns on Tumbleweed’s face came to mind. I swore I’d seen them on his hands as well. Wiley Fox had told me that Tumbleweed had been around the ranch his whole life. Had that included the fire? Was it possible he’d set the fire in the first place? Maybe no one suspected the mute ranch hand. As we passed by the cabins alongside the green, mossy pond, I couldn’t help but feel he watched me, prey to his appetite.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  We followed the river for close to two hours. I was stuck at the back with Evelyn, the mother of the group, and was thereby subjected to hearing about every second she’d ever spent in the saddle. It wasn’t riveting information to say the least, but I listened in the name of good tip money.

  The path split up ahead and I heard Dallas’ voice call back, “This trail goes to lower falls, but we are headed right to take the trail to upper falls. We will be climbing a pretty steep hill with a lot of rocks, so give your horse some rein and lean forward to help him out.”

  The words were meant for the guests, but I had to admit I was pretty nervous. The rides I’d taken into the valley were flat and simple. As Toby’s hooves clattered against the stone of the hill, I tried to estimate how much grip a hoof could have.

  Evelyn’s voice became shaky, “Is this safe?”

  Funny how a new element could reduce her from a wannabe rodeo queen to a novice in mere moments, still I assured her nonetheless. “Perfectly safe, we do this almost every day.”

  I hoped I sounded confident because I didn’t feel confident. Toby slipped twice and my heart lurched in my chest like I was on a rollercoaster. When we reached the top, it took all of my control not to sigh in relief. I had to remind myself that Cassidy was used to climbing granite steps. She certainly wasn’t terrified like I was.

  Dallas helped Evelyn down from her horse and said, “You have two hours at the most. Feel free to walk around. Lunches are in your saddle bags when you get hungry.”

  The guests disappeared, cameras in hand. My legs only shook for a moment after my feet hit the ground again. Dallas took my lead rope and tied my horse near the others. Without much ceremony, he lowered himself to a nearby fallen log and patted the bark. “Come on, take a load off. They won’t be back for a while.”

  The roar of the falls was constant, but not deafening from where we sat. Birds twittered in the trees and the horses’ tack jangled as they shifted where they stood. I sat down near Dallas, but kept my personal space, some habits were innate for me.

  After a short space of sile
nce I said, “Thank you for coming out today.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” he said as he tore at a couple of leaves from the ground. “Besides, it seems like your uncle has a little grudge against you.”

  “You’re not far off the truth,” I said. “But I know it’s your day off, so thank you for showing me the trail.”

  He shrugged it off. “I had my own reasons for coming.”

  I couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at my lips. “Really? What are those reasons?”

  He turned and faced me for the first time. “I don’t think you’re who they say you are. I wanted to see for myself.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Dread slipped across my skin. “What do you mean?” Had he figured me out? Had he gathered enough of the crooked pieces to see that I wasn’t Cassidy Billings?

  He chuckled easily. “I’m not talking body snatchers or whatever, but people talk. They said you were spoiled and rude and—”

  “A perpetual flirt?”

  Dallas scooped up another leaf from the ground and snickered. “That’s a fancy way of putting it.”

  My heart rate eased again. He didn’t suspect my duplicity. “So what do you think?”

  His teeth ran over his bottom lip and a bashful smile crept over his mouth. “I think you’re a little rough around the edges, but you’re really sweet.” He turned his head to face me again. “You’re trying to change and that’s hard, especially when your family only sees the mistakes you’ve made.” He paused and stared back at the leaves. “I think you’re in recovery and struggling to stay sober.”

  I watched him carefully. Either I’d played the part better than I’d thought, or Dixie had spilled the news. “Did Dixie say something to you?”

  “Nah, I’m just real insightful.” He tried to hold the stoic expression, but he broke after a couple seconds. “Yeah Dixie told me you got out of rehab not too long ago.”

  I sighed. “I guess she’s not great at secrets.”

  “She’s the worst.” He waited a second then asked, “How long have you been sober?”

  “Two months, three weeks and five days.” I’d practiced my answer. I knew addicts always knew their sobriety count, some down to the hour. My real answer was my whole life. There had never been a time when I’d been willing to dull my senses and risk my gift.

  “Is it hard?”

  “Always,” I said.

  He let the silence expand between us for a moment, only the horses and birds there to fill it. After chewing on it for a bit, Dallas asked the question I knew everyone wanted to know.

  “What’s that scar on your arm?”

  I had tried to think of a lie to explain it, but it was clearly a gunshot wound. Nothing else left a mark like it. “I was shot,” I said after a minute.

  “Drug deal gone sour?” Dallas teased.

  I tugged his hat over his eyes and laughed, “No, nothing like that.”

  He straightened his hat and asked, “What then? How does a classy girl like you get shot?”

  I had nothing but the truth left. “I made some bad decisions and I ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Was it worth it?”

  My bitter laugh dampened the air. “Not so far.”

  He nodded as if he understood. “Was it part of the reason you ended up here?”

  In a roundabout way, it was.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Dallas faced me again and swallowed hard as though gathering the courage to speak again. “Then I guess I’m glad you got shot.” He pinned his lips together, but then faltered and laughed instead. My laughter joined his and it felt good, like I was remembering happy for the first time in forever.

  Dallas asked, “So, do you have a boyfriend back at your fancy school?” I shook my head, but he didn’t believe me. “Girls like you have a boyfriend in every zip code.”

  I feigned shock. “I thought you said I wasn’t that kind of girl.”

  He ruminated a little too dramatically over the thought. “Well, it takes time to change.”

  I yanked his hat over his eyes again and pretended to pout. “A girl tries to put her life back together and nobody will let her live it down.”

  Dallas straightened his hat and chuckled softly. “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

  “That I don’t have a boyfriend?” I raised my eyebrows in disbelief.

  His blue eyes locked on mine. “No, that you’re talking to me at all.”

  I found myself staring at his lips, knowing that Cassidy would kiss him, but I wasn’t her and I couldn’t be so forward. Still, he had a way of erasing thoughts of heartache and anger from me with words alone; I had to believe that his lips could do wonders.

  I broke my stare and laughed uncomfortably. “What? You think I should go after Wiley instead?”

  He searched the horizon for our guests. “Every other girl does.”

  “Maybe I’m not every other girl,” I said before I could stop myself.

  The smile was crooked and genuine. “I know you’re not,” he said. The silence was heavy the second time, as if we were both lost in the same thought and the combined weight came down on us.

  To alleviate the strain I asked, “How long have you known Wiley?”

  He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly as he thought about it. “About a year I guess. We met in Colorado last fall. We worked that season there, and another one in Southern California, then went our separate ways for a bit, and came back together for this summer.”

  “So this is what you do?” I asked. “You’re a full-time cowboy?”

  “Yeah, basically.” He shrugged. “Not all of us have fancy schooling and old family money to draw on. This is what I know, and I’m good at it.”

  “Trail rides year round?” It felt like too much human interaction to me, too much of my life dependent on tips and a pleasant disposition.

  His head was shaking before I could finish the sentence. “I do some trail rides, and some pack trips, but I also shoe the horses, and I help a vet back home in Texas when I’m between jobs. Horses,” Dallas said, “I’m good at horses.”

  I recalled the way he rode, the ease and instinctive nature of it. “You really are.” I bumped him with my shoulder and asked, “So what about you, do you have a girlfriend at home?”

  He bumped me back and my heart rushed for a second. “No. The only woman in my life is my mom.” Dallas thought about his words then said, “I tend to have seasonal flings, if you will.” He noted my expression and explained, “Not by choice, but because I’m always moving on. It doesn’t seem fair to have a long distance thing that’ll end on the phone.”

  I picked up a leaf from the ground and tore it like he had. I could feel every vein as it ripped clean. “It’s not like I can judge. I seem to run from anything remotely close to a relationship. Commitment isn’t my thing.”

  “I bet there’s a trail of broken hearts behind you, Cass.”

  I thought of Ryder and shook my head. “Quite the opposite, I assure you.”

  He was about to ask another question when our guests returned and work began again. Dallas doled out the saddlebags with the food and we plastered on our ‘please give us tips’ smiles. As I watched him joke with the teenage boys, charisma and confidence oozing from him, I let myself consider the thought of a seasonal fling with the shy cowboy named Dallas. All in the name of my cover story—of course.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The guests wanted to get a family photo at the crest of the falls before we left for the day and of course we were willing to oblige. I snapped a few with Evelyn’s camera, a similar model to the one I used for surveillance, and let them wander off for the last glimpses of the falls while Dallas and I cleaned up. While we waited for them to return, I walked to the edge of the cliff and watched the water tumble down. There was a faint rainbow over the base, and if I let my eyes blur, the color became more brilliant. With no guard rail, it was easy to creep to the absolute periphery.

  Da
llas called some words of caution, but I ignored him and leaned a little farther. I tried to see the base of the falls, the place where the churning water spun and crashed against the rocks below. It looked as though I could step down the outcroppings, from step to step until I reached the bottom. The water was clear and pure, but still filled me with a fear I couldn’t understand, but I desperately wanted to.

  My balance shifted dramatically as the dirt beneath my left foot tumbled free. My scream burst out of my chest in one quick explosion before my breath was gone and I was falling. A hand gripped my arm and yanked me back before I slid down to the first shelf eight feet below. It wouldn’t have killed me, it wouldn’t have lost me in the water, but I would’ve been injured for sure.

  Dallas gripped my other arm and pulled me up to higher ground and back to safety.

  “Hey, are you crazy? What were you doing?”

  I took a couple deep breaths and blew them out again. “I was looking at—” I couldn’t catch my words, or my train of thought. “I lost my balance.” I glanced at my wrists still trapped in his hands, my hands that rested against his chest. My heart thumped so hard I wondered if he could feel it. “Thank you,” I said as I looked up at him.

  His hands fell away from me, but my hands remained on his chest, still trembling with the adrenaline of my near plummet.

  “It’s not like I saved your life. I stopped you from a bad bruising.” The corners of his mouth tipped upward for a moment. “You’re a little crazy I think.”

  I was all too aware of my mouth, of the way my lips pulsed. “Are you wearing cologne?” I asked quietly.

  The smile deepened with a sweet embarrassment. “Maybe a little, do you like it?” his hands brushed the back of my arms, but he thought better of it and they fell away. Always shy, ever chivalrous.

  Maybe it was my cover, maybe it was because I knew Ryder had someone new, maybe I’d been alone so long that I couldn’t bear it another second longer, but for whatever reason, I found myself drawn to the bashful cowboy.

  “Come on, kiss her already!”

  I took a step back and saw the two teenage boys watching us intently. My face flushed with embarrassment. Dallas laughed uncomfortably and stumbled over his words, “Cassidy almost fell over the edge. I was pulling her back.”