by Maree, Kay
With my heart racing from the memory, I splashed a little cold water on my face and reminded myself that the sheriff assured me I would be safe out here on the ranch. Surely they wouldn’t send inmates to a place just as threatening as jail, right?
I took my time going back downstairs and tying my shoes. Standing at the top of the porch steps, I looked out over the large, graveled yard and summoned the inner strength I knew I would need out here.
My eyes landed on Brandon’s wide shoulders before following the tapered angle of his back to where it met his waist. They then skimmed over his jean-clad ass, and I had to acknowledge to myself that he was more than easy on the eye. I'd have to be blind not to notice the impeccable shape he was in.
Picking my way down the steps, I made it halfway across the yard before Brandon snapped upright and twisted in my direction. I divided my glances between him and the dark man grinning in the center of the horse ring.
Brandon smiled and straightened as I approached. “Got yourself sorted, darli-” He stopped himself and put emphasis on his correction. “Louisiana?”
I tugged at the hem of my shirt to distract myself from his imploring hazel gaze—the type that was kind and filled with affection, no matter who he looked at.
“I did. Thank you.”
A snort from the horse drew my attention, and I then looked past the black beast to the stranger. Brandon took that as his cue to introduce us.
“This is the ranch manager, Jake. You’ll be seeing a lot of him. Jake, this is Louisiana.”
“Welcome,” Jake called. His tone was friendly enough, however, the dusty farm clothes seemed at odds with his tattoos and the hardened edges around his eyes.
To escape his assessing gaze, I focused on the horse trotting in circles around him.
“You know how to ride?” Brandon asked, also focused on its movements.
“Nope,” I admitted. The chasing bolt of panic had my hand briefly wrapping around Brandon’s wrist. “I don’t have to, do I? Because… just nope.”
“Yes,” he countered with amusement dancing in his eyes.
I folded my arms across my chest and stepped back one pace, figuratively and literally digging my heels in. “That’s not happening.”
Brandon let out a smooth laugh. “I’ll get you on a horse before your time here is done. Most inmates haven’t ridden before, but give it a couple of weeks and you’ll be dandy.”
Warily eyeing the horse as it pulled at the rope and reared up, I swallowed and shook my head again. Brandon’s warm hand clasped around my shoulder joint and squeezed gently.
“You won’t be riding him, Louisiana, so relax. Jake's breaking him in, and even then, only he or I will be getting in the saddle."
“He’s an asshole of a horse at the moment,” Jake added before clicking his tongue sharply.
Brandon angled his body toward me as if to emphasize his warning. “Don’t go near him—especially in the stalls. He kicks like a fiend when penned.”
Despite his cautioning tone, I struggled to focus on the words coming out of his mouth thanks to the tiny scar I discovered on one side of his lower lip. I didn’t know how, but curiosity over that one faint line somehow beckoned me closer to Brandon.
The moment broke with one innocent swipe of his tongue over the faded scar, and my eyes lifted to his to see his hazel depths shining yet guarded.
“So, where are the other horses?” I asked in an attempt to focus on something less controversial.
Brandon’s chuckle complemented his dreamy smile. With a dip of his chin, he pushed off the fence. "I'll take you on the tour if you're up to it?"
“Of course.”
Two of my paces were needed to match one of Brandon’s long strides, and despite the short distance to the barn, I arrived a little breathless. The large wooden doors were already open wide, and it took a few moments for my vision to adjust to the dim interior.
The first thing that hit me was the odor. I immediately pinched my nose and balked. “Argh, what is that smell!”
Brandon laughed beside me and set his hands on his hips. “The horse stalls,” he answered while trying to get his amusement under control. “There are six down that end, and the gear and fresh hay at that end,” he exclaimed while waving his arms in either direction.
Motioning for me to follow him further into the barn, I tracked along behind him. Just like he explained, three stalls ran down either side and all stood empty with their doors partially open.
“Where are the horses?”
“Out in the pasture. Jake moves them in when needed, mostly if there’s impending bad weather or one’s foaling.” Brandon’s voice then lost the informative tone as he added, “He’s in charge of the stables until you’re comfortable to share the duties. In the meantime, I’ll start you with something more…” His eyes traveled over my tiny shorts before dropping to my shoes. “...suitable. Louisiana, I’m gonna jump right in and assume that you have zero ranching experience.”
I took exception to his assumption—even though it was correct—and folded my arms over my chest. “What makes you think that?”
Brandon’s eyes dropped again, and a frown formed on his brow. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing; you’ll be wearing jeans and boots before the week is out, darlin’. Ten minutes in the saddle and your thighs will be chafed raw.”
I pursed my lips hard and subtly moved my feet closer together because the mention of my thighs made me self-conscious. “So what am I starting on then?”
Brandon’s smile reappeared and lit his entire face, so striking it took me off guard. Instantly, his appearance was transformed from attractively cute to incredibly sexy.
“You, Louisiana, are starting with my little ladies,” he declared and gestured for me to follow him as he strode toward the wide doors.
Pressing my hand over my mouth and nose as I passed through the barn, I hurried after him then inhaled a deep lungful of the fresh Montana air once out in the open.
We crossed the large yard and veered right of the homestead. There lay a simpler, single-story dwelling with a small covered front porch, then another oversized building prominently sat on the opposite side of the lane from the horse ring. The lane wove out of sight into the meadows and had me wondering where exactly it led.
“That’s the ranch manager’s lodging, which is unoccupied at the moment, and down further is the vehicle and machinery shed,” Brandon explained.
I took it all in, overwhelmed by the vastness that I stood at the center of, nothing more than a pin-prick on the landscape and just as insignificant.
Nestled in between the two houses was a large, fenced-off enclosure that Brandon aimed for.
I felt a frown pull my eyebrows low the moment he declared, “and here are the little ladies you’ll be looking after.”
“Chickens,” I deadpanned.
He sent me a smile and cocked his head. “Have you cared for animals before?”
A snort left my nose. In a roundabout way I had, but he didn’t need to know that. “No.”
Brandon shrugged. “Then you start simple and work your way up to the horses and cows.”
Panic hit me again. There was no fucking way I was working with cows!
“Don’t pout,” Brandon drawled with amusement, which made me pout harder.
“What about a cat? I can do cats.” They were much more appealing than chickens.
He set his hands on his hips and raised a brow at me. “I have two. They’re self-sufficient, but you’re more than welcome to feed them at night if you wish.”
“Dogs?” I asked in hope.
At my question, Brandon set his teeth on his lower lip and let out a piercing whistle that cut through the air. Immediately, vicious barking broke out, and I jumped closer to his side while darting panicked glances around us. Despite the noise, only one dog appeared and sprinted right for us.
“Good boy, Blue,” Brandon praised and bent to give
the dog a firm pat on the head. “Louisiana, this is Blue. The others are caged at the moment.”
“You keep them caged?” I couldn’t keep the hint of anger from my voice.
Brandon stood and pulled back his shoulders, giving a distinct impression that I had offended him.
“No, I put them away because I knew you were arriving today. Would you have rather been welcomed by me and a pack of four barking ranch dogs?”
My displeasure melted away and was replaced with gratitude. I’d had to deal with a lot of shit over the last year, and the whirlwind of the previous few days was beginning to catch up on me. I was frazzled and overly emotional compared to what I used to be like.
“Thank you,” I murmured and offered my hand for Blue to smell.
After sniffing all over my palm, legs, and feet, he gave a small chuff then looked up at Brandon as if waiting for orders.
I had to admit, he was cute, in a rough, ranch dog kind of way. “What type of dog is he?”
Brandon ruffled Blue’s head again. “A Queensland Heeler, also known as a Blue Heeler—hence his name.”
“And the others?”
"One other Heeler, and two Australian Shepherds. Both breeds are hard-working dogs and have the energy required on the cattle drives that span days. Want to meet them?"
I hesitated, not sure if I was ready to be a stranger in the center of a group of dogs.
“I won’t let them out,” Brandon assured me softly.
Seeing the care and sincerity in his gaze made a little prickle of trust form. Although Brandon did his best to reassure me, the moment the kennels came into sight on the other side of the manager’s house, my senses became overloaded.
The wave of barking hit me as if it could physically be felt, and the rattling of the wire cages sent goosebumps cascading down my spine.
Without warning, memories of screamed abuse and metal clanging against metal as inmates shook their cell doors penetrated the calm I thought I’d found here. Anxiety rose at an alarming rate and wrung the oxygen from my lungs. I was thrust back into the memories I wanted to escape from. Where all I could smell was the harsh solvents, and the lingering chill from the concrete floor seeped through my cheap shoes.
Brandon’s voice swam closer and his warm palm landed between my shoulder blades. “Louisiana? You okay, darlin’?”
“I- I…” The urge to flee was overwhelming. To get away from the barking and the concern in his expression that almost had me crumbling apart on the spot. “I just need a moment,” I panted.
Tearing my gaze away from his wretched one, I turned and walked as fast as I could down the lane that led towards the meadows.
The pace wasn’t fast enough; I wasn’t still able to shake the clawing sensation along my spine. Breaking into a run, I let the breeze carry me wherever it chose.
“Don’t go too far, Louisiana!” Brandon called in a voice that was nothing but a distant reverberation on the wind.
A piercing whistle cut through the air, and less than ten strides later, Blue was running at my side with his tongue out, thinking we were going on some sort of adventure together.
If only.
If… only.
Louisiana
The footsteps approaching where I sat behind the trunk of a large tree weren’t hesitant, nor were they trying to be quiet. I ignored the jean-clad legs that entered my peripheral vision, continuing to stare off into the lush distance and willing my mind to stay there.
Jake’s voice came a moment later. “Howdy, jailbird.”
That instantly got my back up. “I’m all but a free woman, so you can quit the name-calling.”
Jake groaned quietly as he sat and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “You and I both know you’ve been called much worse in the last while.”
I hugged my knees harder to my chest as if it would shield me from opening up. “And what would you know?” I snapped.
He looked at me then, and the whirlwind in his eyes made my heart drop. “I know a whole lot more than you think, Louisiana.”
Bitterness and disdain tainted his words, and darkness briefly took his thoughts to somewhere far beyond where we sat.
“How long were you...?” I asked, barely above a whisper.
Jake snorted. “Long enough to realize that I don’t need to waste more of my life thinkin’ about my past.”
My tightly coiled muscles began to relax as we lapsed into silence. He was letting me lead the conversation, but also made clear that he would pick and choose what he answered.
“How long have you been here?” I ventured.
“Over four years now. And no, I wasn’t part of this program. Bran created that after I started working here.”
Okay, now he was forthcoming with information, so I tried to press further. “What were you in for?”
“Stupid shit,” was his emotionless reply. “You?”
I threw his words back at him. “Stupid shit.”
Jake chuckled and nodded an acknowledgment.
The truth was, I hadn’t made many mistakes in my life, but the one that got me convicted had torn away the most precious part of me, and nothing could fix or fill the constant ache and longing left behind in my heart. It stung whenever I thought of him, and as prickles of tears threatened at the back of my nose, I sniffed hard to remove them.
Jake’s swift movement startled me as he leaned toward me with a serious expression. “Bran’s a good guy, Louisiana. Don’t ever take advantage of that.”
Offense blanketed my heartbreak, and I blinked in slow motion while processing what sounded like a threat. "What the fuck makes you think I would take advantage of him?”
Jake lifted his eyebrows and gave me a condescending look. “Why are you really here, jailbird?” He raised his hand when I started speaking, and I was pissed that he asked me a question then cut me off. “Yeah, we’ve all got a story, but I’m talking about your reasoning behind joining the program. You don’t exactly scream country girl to me.” He added a pointed look at my attire. “Bran’s right—you’ll need jeans and boots at the very least. Rory will take you shopping within the next few days.”
“My reasons are none of your business. Just because you know what it’s like on the inside of a cell doesn’t mean you know what’s going on in here,” I snapped and angrily pointed to my head. “And who’s Rory?” Probably another judgmental cowboy I was yet to meet.
Jake sniggered. “Brandon’s sister.”
I rubbed at my temples. They were beginning to ache. Being here was overwhelming and had launched me further out of my comfort zone than I expected, and I was only on day one.
“Louisiana.” Jake’s low tone pulled my attention to him. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
“After the lecture? No thanks.”
“Hey, we had to get the formal shit out of the way, right? Same as everyone else that comes through those gates, although I’m usually a little more confrontational…” Again, Jake sniggered then effortlessly pushed to his feet. “C’mon, I’ll run you through your daily tasks.”
I stood and brushed off my ass. “Brandon’s already given me tasks. I’m looking after the chickens.” I shuddered at the thought.
Jake threw his head back and full-on belly laughed until tears formed in his eyes. "Oh, girl, this ain’t no summer camp. The chickens will take you ten minutes, tops. After that, there's the stock to check and stables to clean. And trust me, after a single day of getting hay down your bra you’ll be shopping for collared shirts as well as the jeans and boots.”
I glowered and adjusted my tank top. “Wear a bra, do you?”
His pearly teeth contrasted with his darker skin as his smile pulled wide. “Nope, but even getting it down my shirt itches like shit. I can only imagine how itchy it is rubbing on your-
“I get it,” I yelled and pressed my hands over my ears. “Enough tit talk, just show me what the hell I’m meant to do.”
<
br /> Jake’s chuckling continued as we walked side-by-side back down the lane, heading for the barn.
After the rocky and hypocritical start, I was grateful to have Jake show me the ropes. From one ex-inmate to another, it was nice to know there was someone to relate to on that level. That still didn’t mean I wanted to discuss the finer details with him, but it was a comfort to not be completely ‘alone’ out here.
Checking the horses was easy. Cleaning the smelly stables was not.
Jake demonstrated cleaning out one stall, then casually leaned against the chest-high dividing wall and dished out advice while I did the labor.
Movement in the barn got Jake’s attention, and a smile broke out across his face. “Hey, boss.”
I stiffened when I realized Brandon was close, then became abnormally flustered upon hearing the smooth drawl of his voice. “How yas doin’?”
“She’s a natural, Bran,” Jake declared. While his comment came across as patronizing, I thought I detected undertones of approval in his tone.
“Shoveling shit isn’t exactly hard,” I snapped.
Jake’s eyebrows rose. “We’ll see if you have the same opinion when you wake with a stiff back and sore arms.”
Brandon came into view and leaned his forearms on the stall door. There was an energy in his eyes that hadn’t been there when we last spoke, and his shoulders seemed a little more relaxed.
“What have you been up to?” Jake asked, frowning a little.
Brandon looked around the stall while replying to Jake. “Just rode up to check the calves and let Red loose a little since it’s been a few days since I’ve ridden him. Looks good, Louisiana,” he added with a satisfied nod. “And don’t worry about the aching muscles. Nothing a deep bath won’t fix.” Wink.
I stared at him, trying to decipher his expression. It closed off almost immediately. All flirtatiousness was replaced with contemplative reservation as he stared back. He also appeared to be questioning his actions, and it left us swallowing through the beats of confusion that radiated between us.