“Okay.”
A little suspicious of Jordan’s easy acceptance—everyone groaned at least a little when given mucking duty—Russ left him with the wheelbarrow, moved to the fence beyond the barn, and whistled. About a dozen heads lifted in the distance, and Daisy and Missy broke into a trot coming toward him. They were the biggest suckers for a bit of apple or a sugar cube, and always first in line at feeding time. They were also the most likely to be adopted soon, given their age, level of training, and temperaments.
The rest of the herd moved in at a slightly slower pace, so by the time he’d let Dallas and a couple of others out of their stalls and into the paddock, the rest of the herd had lined up at or near the fence hoping for treats.
“All right, kids. I think I might have a little something to make you happy.”
He grabbed a bucket of pellets from the feed shed and took a few minutes to coax each horse over for a little hand feeding and a pat or two. Most of the group had been gentled enough by now that they needed little coaxing, but a few of the newer additions required a bit more effort. The greedier ones jockeying for position didn’t always make things easy either, but he got the job done.
Once or twice he caught Jordan just standing around watching him, but a pointed scowl helped put the brat back to work soon enough. Russ had a feeling he’d have to ride Jordan’s lazy, entitled ass to get a decent day’s work out of him, but maybe if Jordan complained, Phyl would dump him on someone else.
One can only hope.
Much sooner than Russ expected, Jordan showed up at his elbow.
“I’m ready for you to lead the others out, unless you want me to do it,” Jordan said.
Russ frowned and led the way back to the barn to inspect Jordan’s work, but the stalls were clean and strewn with a blanket of fresh straw. Unreasonably irritated, Russ moved to the next occupied stall, clipped a lead to Bannock’s halter after coaxing the injured horse forward, and led it out into a pen for some sunshine and fresh air.
From what the police could gather, Bannock had been used for target practice by a “person or person’s unknown” on his previous owner’s farm. The wounds had been left untreated until the owner was forced to surrender the gelded draft horse to the ranch. He was a big beast, but mostly gentle, just a bit touchy about his healing wounds. He’d make a gorgeous addition to the right family, once he’d had time to heal and a little more training.
While Jordan cleaned up the massive beast’s equally massive mess, Russ checked out each of the healing wounds, slowly and carefully.
“You’re looking good, big guy,” he murmured. “You’ll be out with the others pretty soon, and we’ll be able to put your pretty mug on the website for adoption before you know it.”
His shoulders itched like he was being watched, and sure enough, when he glanced over his shoulder, Jordan was there.
“Don’t you have work to do?” he grumbled as he patted Bannock’s shoulder.
“I’m done. I was just waiting for you to finish.”
With a huff, Russ led Bannock back into the freshly cleaned stall.
“You know, you won’t win any brownie points if you’ve shot your wad before noon,” he grouched as he shoved the latch home and moved on to the next stall.
As the day passed, Russ kept waiting for Jordan to cry uncle, but the man kept chugging away like a machine, giving Russ nothing to gripe about… which irritated him no end, particularly when Phyl brought them sandwiches, bottles of water, and glasses of lemonade, and went on and on about how great a job Jordan was doing.
“I gotta go soon, or Jon and Ernie’ll pass out from starvation. But I think the two of you should saddle up the girls, Daisy and Missy, and go for a ride,” Phyl said cheerily.
Russ tried to hide his scowl, but he wasn’t completely successful, judging by Phyl’s pointed glare.
“We still have Marina’s stall and a few other things to do round here.”
“That won’t take more’n an hour,” Phyl countered, waving a dismissive hand. “You got plenty of time, and with the weekend coming up, I need those two well-exercised and on their best behavior, in case they catch someone’s eye.”
She was right, of course. The girls needed the practice, and if Jordan rode, Russ wouldn’t have to make two trips. That didn’t mean he had to like it.
“Yeah, okay. After we finish up, we’ll go.”
Jordan’s smile this time was nothing like the ones Russ had seen so far. There was no hint of practiced perfection, only delight. It lit up his whole face, making an already pretty man goddamned luminous.
Experiencing an all too familiar tug in his gut, Russ shoved off the straw bale he’d been sitting on and charged down the aisle. “I’ll go get Marina moved,” he threw over his shoulder as he went.
Chapter Seven
JORDAN WAS soaked with sweat and filthy by the time the barn met Russ’s standards for cleanliness. Lugging horseshit and straw around all day long was a distinctly different kind of workout from a couple of hours hitting the machines at the gym, but he’d been mentally prepared for it, and quite frankly looking forward to it ever since he’d come up with this crazy plan. Anything that kept him out of his own head for a while was a good thing. And despite Russ being an asshole for no reason, he was easy on the eyes, making him a nice added distraction from the wreck of Jordan’s life.
In the fantasies that filled his head as he shoveled shit, Russ never said a word beyond “yes” and “more.” Unfortunately, he had to deal with the reality far too often to truly enjoy those daydreams.
He hadn’t given up on winning over the hot bastard yet, though. Russ might be a harder sell than Jordan was used to, but today was only his first real day on the ranch. He’d have time to work on the problem.
“You get Missy,” Russ bit out as he passed by, leading Jordan to the tack room.
“Anything I should know about her?” Jordan asked, hurrying to collect the saddle, pad, and hackamore he’d been directed to before rushing after Russ again.
Russ slowed his stride slightly. “She isn’t one of our hard cases. Both girls are from a farm that had to downsize due to an illness in the family. They’d asked around, tried to sell ’em, but couldn’t find buyers quick enough. The horses had a spot of the flu, and the family couldn’t afford the vet bills on top of everything else. They’d already been saddle broke, just didn’t have much training beyond that. We nursed ’em back to health and gave ’em a bit of training, but that’s pretty much it.” He eyed Jordan appraisingly for a second, the severe line of his lips never changing. “All I’d say is, Missy’s young, a little high-spirited, but mostly sweet and eager to please. She won’t be as disciplined as what you’re probably used to, that and obviously she’s Western saddle broke, which you’re also probably not used to.”
“I’ve done both.”
Russ grunted, turned away, and kept moving.
I’m going to impress you, cowboy. You’re going to like me, whether you like it or not.
Jordan smoothed a hand down his T-shirt, only realizing how ridiculous the gesture was when his hand came back even grimier than before. His looks wouldn’t be winning him any brownie points at the moment, but Russ hadn’t seemed to give a damn even when Jordan had been clean, pressed, and freshly gelled.
Maybe the guy liked it a little dirty and rumpled.
Jordan bit his lip and shook that thought right out of his head. The last thing he needed was to sport wood in front of Russ, or climb into a saddle for a long ride with a boner, come to think of it. He stifled a laugh and dropped his gaze to his boots when Russ shot him a look over his shoulder.
Even Russ’s attitude wouldn’t spoil this day for him. Jordan wouldn’t let it. He’d exceeded Russ’s expectations at every turn. He knew it, no matter what Russ’s face said. And now he was going for a ride in the open air on a pretty little mare. He’d show the cranky cowboy how good a rider he was, and then maybe Russ would let him do more than mucking from now on, without bi
tching about it.
Ahead of him, Russ lifted a leg to the bottom rail of the fence, rested his saddle on the top, and whistled. The two young mares were the first to the fence, and Russ let them into a small separate corral before closing the gate behind them.
“Do you think you can handle the saddle on your own?”
Jordan managed to not roll his eyes by only the slimmest of margins. “I can do it.”
“Well, get to it, then.” Russ turned his back on Jordan and set to readying his own mount.
Before approaching Missy, Jordan took a deep breath in and let it out, shaking the tension from his limbs at the same time. Missy didn’t know him, and the last thing he wanted was to let any of his irritation with Russ spill over to their first meeting.
“Hey there, sweet girl. I’m Jordan. You ready to go for a little ride today with your friend?”
Keeping his voice low and soft, Jordan studied Missy’s body language for any signs of tension as he approached. Missy stepped up, eagerly nuzzling his hands, looking for treats, probably.
“Sorry, sweetie, you got your treats earlier. Now you get a little workout.”
Russ already had the halter and pad on his mount, but Jordan didn’t care. Russ could wait.
“We’re going to get to know each other a little first,” he murmured as he stroked Missy’s smooth neck and shoulder. Her gleaming auburn coat was warm from the hot Texas sun, sleek and gorgeous, and Jordan felt a weight lift from his chest just touching her. “We’re going to do each other some good,” he whispered for her ears only.
In all honesty, he didn’t need to be so slow and careful. Missy was a pussycat, as eager to please and ready for a ride as they’d said. If Russ had been the one training them, he’d done an even better job than he’d said.
Hot and humble, damn, he’s sexy.
Such a shame.
“Are you two gonna cuddle all day, or are we going for a ride?” the man in question groused from the other side of the paddock.
Jordan did roll his eyes this time, but he didn’t utter a peep as he slid the halter and hackamore in place and moved on to the pad and saddle. The breast collar gave him a bit of trouble, especially since Missy was eager to join Russ and Daisy, but eventually he got everything buckled in and tightened down. He could feel Russ’s eyes on him the whole time, but Russ said nothing, so Jordan did his best to ignore him.
Once Missy was all saddled and ready to ride, Russ opened the gate at the other end of the paddock, led Daisy out, and waited to close the gate after Jordan and Missy had passed through. They mounted in silence, and Russ nudged Daisy into a canter without looking to see if Jordan followed.
As soon as Missy got moving under him, the rest of Jordan’s aching muscles relaxed into the familiar movements. He didn’t care if his riding companion was a grumpy bastard. He didn’t care that he probably wouldn’t be able to move tomorrow. He didn’t even care where they were going, as long as they kept riding.
Despite the heat, the sweat on his skin dried quickly as the horses picked up speed. Jordan really didn’t have to do much directing. Missy followed right on Daisy’s heels with seemingly no interest in wandering off, so Jordan could relax and enjoy the landscape.
Still packed with plenty of grasses, wildflowers, and shrubs, and dotted with trees, the central Texas hill country was a stark contrast to the lush and overgrown greens of Virginia he was used to, but beautiful in its own way. Away from the ranch proper, the land rose steadily as the hot sun beat on his head and back. He’d need to find a hat sometime soon or his forehead and nose would be red as a lobster before the week was out.
At the top of the first hill, he had a great view of the main house, barns, and outbuildings. The dark and light shapes of horses, donkeys, llama, alpaca, goats, and some cattle dotted white-fenced pens and yellow-green-and-brown splotched pastures. Many of the animals seemed to prefer the dubious shade of the few scrubby live oaks, though some braver souls were venturing out, now that the sun was lower in the sky.
“It all looks so much bigger than I remember,” Jordan said.
For the first time that day, Russ actually slowed his horse and cracked a half smile as he gazed down on the ranch. “We’ve done pretty well, despite the times. Each year we try to save more animals than the last. Sometimes we succeed.”
As if he suddenly remembered who he spoke to, Russ’s smile fell away and he nudged Daisy into a trot, down the hill and on to the next one.
Guess we’re done having our moment.
Jordan sighed as he watched Russ’s straight broad shoulders, tight ass, and hard thighs for a few seconds before nudging Missy after them.
Such a damn, damn shame.
The rest of the ride, they barely exchanged a word. Ordinarily, Jordan would have chafed at the silence, but he was enjoying his time in the saddle too much to complain about his less-than-satisfactory company. The Western saddle was a lot bigger than he was used to, so some of his muscles would definitely be complaining later at the unaccustomed stretch. Still, if it helped him sleep through the night without pounding shots of bourbon, he’d count every single exhausted muscle, ache, and pain a win.
Russ turned and headed back toward the house long before Jordan was ready, but he didn’t have much say in the matter, at least for now. The man was as taciturn on the way back as he’d been riding out, and before Jordan knew it, the ranch was in sight and his lovely sojourn was over.
With a sigh of regret, Jordan dismounted in the yard and led Missy into the paddock. After removing most of her gear, Russ told him to fetch the grooming supplies, and they took some time to curry and brush away the trail dust and sweat before removing the hackamores and releasing them back into the pasture with the others.
Outside the barn, Jordan waited for some word of approval for a day’s work well done, but the best Russ could come up with was apparently a brisk nod on his way past as he headed for the house. When Russ reached the bottom step, Phyllis stepped out onto the porch. With a smile and a wave for Jordan, she moved to the edge of the porch and rang the brass bell mounted to a post.
“Time to get washed up for supper, Jordan,” she called as he approached the house.
Jordan smiled his relief and gratitude, and he dragged his aching body up the steps. Now that he was done for the day, the aches and stiffness were definitely settling in. The set of stairs up to the bedrooms gave him pause, but he pushed through and climbed. He would not sit down to dinner covered in everything he was currently covered in.
After a quick shower, he pulled on the second pair of jeans he’d bought on the drive down and one of his polo shirts, figuring the skinny jeans, silk slacks, and linen shorts wouldn’t make him anyone’s favorite at the dinner table. He hadn’t really planned ahead very well. Everything he’d packed from home was useless on the ranch. He was going to need more than two pairs of work pants, or he’d be doing laundry several times a week.
Did Phyllis do the laundry? If not, he was going to need to figure out how to ask for instructions without humiliating himself. He’d never done a load of laundry in his life.
Did Amazon deliver way out there? How much could he afford to spend? The credit card attached to his account had probably been canceled with the rest of them, so that only left his debit card, and—
Flinching away from those thoughts, Jordan fussed with his hair in the mirror above the scarred antique dresser in his room and smoothed a hand down his shirt. He’d worked his ass off today so he wouldn’t have to think, but reality had a way of butting back in, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.
Russ stepped into the hall from the bathroom at the same time Jordan left his room, and they nearly collided in the hall. Apparently Russ had also showered, because he was running a white towel over his damp brown hair and he’d replaced his chambray work shirt from earlier with a stark white undershirt that stretched across his muscled chest and hugged the outlines of his nipples.
Jordan stifled a groan.
&n
bsp; Such a shame, a tragedy really.
Flashing a smile, he said, “I forgot to thank you for taking me out with you this afternoon. Missy really is a sweetheart, and it was great to be back in a saddle again. It’s been far too long for me.”
“You can thank Phyl. It was her idea, not mine.”
Persevering, Jordan took a step back and held his smile. “Still, you were the one out there, so thanks.”
Russ pursed his lips and gave a terse nod before stepping through the door to his room and closing it in Jordan’s face.
With an aggrieved sigh, Jordan turned and headed downstairs. Russ was Phyl’s right-hand man, he reminded himself. They were obviously close. Jordan needed his approval if he was going to stay on the ranch for… well, for however long he needed to. Charming him was just going to take a little longer than he’d hoped.
Chapter Eight
FOUR DAYS.
Four days of slaving away, of shoveling shit from dawn until dusk, never complaining even once, and did he get a single “good job” or an “atta boy” from Russ?
Nope. Not one.
Phyllis and Jon and Ernie all showed appropriate amounts of approbation and gratitude, stroking his ever-more-brittle ego, but not Russ.
It was a little like working for his father, except his father threw in an occasional “nice work,” even though the words were usually followed by a “but.”
He still shied away from thoughts like that just as fast as they came up, but who else was he going to compare Russ to? He just hadn’t had that many assholes in his life up until that point, at least not ones he couldn’t ignore or tell to fuck off.
Bracing a foot on the fence, he rested his arms on the top rail and watched the herd in the pale light of the full moon. Crickets chirped in a constant drone broken by an occasional sleepy snort from a horse or bray of a donkey as an owl hooted somewhere off in the distance. The air was heavy and damp from a passing thunderstorm earlier in the day, and heat still radiated from the ground, despite the sun having set a couple of hours ago.
The Second Time Around Page 5