by Alexa Davis
“I’ve seen your handiwork. If it comes to that, my money’s on you,” he sniggered. Daniel shot him a look. Jackson flinched, but was still laughing when the guys made room for us to sit near the head of the table by their father and mother.
Mr. Hargrave made a speech for Verica’s benefit and quickly lined up the chores so that the men could eat and go, while those who remained would interview Verica as a panel made up of Daniel, his father, Pete, myself, and surprisingly, Jackson.
I hadn’t seen much of Daniel’s younger brother throughout my time on the ranch, and Daniel didn’t speak of him often. When he did, it was usually to comment on the vast array of video games he was always playing, or wondering if he’d ever grow up and do anything with his life. To me, Jackson was simply a typical, youngest child and seeing him take an interest piqued my own at what he might be thinking.
“Verica,” Mr. Hargrave began as his wife poured her fresh sweet tea into tall glasses for us. “I know you have a great deal on your plate right now, and we’re a small operation. What made you take an interest in coming down to speak to us?”
Verica shot me a look, and I nodded my encouragement to her. As she explained her predicament, I was shot looks of query by the Hargraves, oldest to youngest. I added my thoughts to her narrative and that my hope was that they would overlook the unpopularity of her decision for the correctness of it.
“Well, hell, girl, it seems that’s what we do here. It seems to work out just fine for us,” the senior Hargrave quipped.
Verica continued, producing verifiable references, which Jackson took and began typing on his laptop, glancing from time to time at Verica’s resume. When the men had asked their questions, Daniel, Pete, and I walked her over to the stables. Daniel slid his hand in mine and let Pete and Verica walk ahead of us a few paces.
“I see why you like her. The girl has spunk and good, solid morals.” He spoke in a low voice, and squeezed my hand. “I can’t just hire her without speaking to anyone else, though. Dad refuses to believe we could get that lucky twice in a row.”
I chuckled and squeezed him back. My stomach was tight, nervous that I’d made a wrong choice and pushed too hard for this slip of a girl who chose her horse’s safety over fame and fortune.
She was as taken with the stables as I was, and we could see she and Pete speaking animatedly while they walked toward the birthing suite, remnants of his tour spiel floating back to us. We turned to follow them when a strange sound caught my ear. I grabbed Daniel’s arm and listened again.
“Do you hear that?” I listened again for the strange, wheezing cough of air, moving past each stall and watching the horses inside for any off behavior. I made it almost halfway down the row when I saw something that made my blood curdle in my veins. Pete’s favorite mare Dancer was on her side in her stall, blood foaming out of her mouth as she labored for breath. I threw the door open with a gasp, and there in the corner was the crushed body of a rattler.
Daniel shouted for Pete while I wiped the blood from her muzzle, revealing a bite on her nose, which had swollen and was preventing her from breathing properly. I shouted for anti-venom and continued to search her for bite marks. The only other bite was on her hind ankle, a much less dangerous place to be bitten.
From the look of the stall, they had accidentally come upon one another in the hay that Dancer had been eating and the snake had bitten her to get away. Trapped in the stall, he had taken another stab at getting her away from him, but instead, had gotten stepped on as she panicked. It had been so long, obviously while we’d all been at lunch, that her sheer size was the only reason she was still alive.
Pete skidded to a stop with the anti-venom in a medical caddy, with Daniel and Verica hot on his heels.
“What kind?” Pete panted, pulling vials out of the caddy. I pointed to the back of the stall, too afraid to name the species in case I was wrong. The caddy was thrust into Daniel’s hands and Pete joined me on the dirty, hay-strewn floor. He whispered to Dancer, and I saw her ear twitch in response. Through tears, I watched him gently stroke her swollen muzzle and in a swift motion, inject the first syringe of anti-venom in his hand. He dropped it with a clatter and immediately sank the second hypodermic into her quivering hide with a steady hand that belied the sweat beaded up on his forehead where he had shoved his hat off.
“Get her on her feet! Get her to the suite so we can put her in the sling,” Daniel ordered. Verica sidled in next to me, and by the time other men had reached us, including Mr. Hargrave, we had almost lifted Dancer from the floor. With the aid of the additional muscle, we were able to get Dancer into the sling and Daniel adjusted it to the correct level to hold her, but leave her hooves touching the floor.
At that point, I was given the floor, and while Pete paced and tried to comfort his mare, I intubated her to allow oxygen to her lungs. Once I saw that her lungs were filling and her chest was moving accordingly, I turned my attention to a full examination, looking for signs of other bites. When none were found, I rejoined Pete, who had not stopped murmuring to her and stroking her fetlock throughout my intubation and examination.
Her heart was arrhythmic, but continuing to get stronger by the time Dr. Pallace, the ranch veterinarian, arrived. He brought with him more anti-venom and re-examined Dancer, to no new diagnosis. She was calmer than before, and her heart had given up its hitch for a steadier, if not quite healthy, pace. Dr. Pallace hemmed and hawed and scratched his head, but in the end, he agreed that he could no better for the old girl than we were already accomplishing, and she was better off not being moved.
Cheered that he would be able to watch over her himself, Pete promised not to leave her side until she could breathe easily on her own, and knowing him, I understood that he’d be by her side much longer than needed. What did surprise me was the speed with which Verica offered to stay by his side and help. I watched as the light of admiration in her eyes dimmed for my handsome lover and lit firmly on the compassionate horseman, still red-nosed and bleary-eyed as he whispered foolish nothings into Dancer’s ear.
“Well, that was exciting and unexpected,” I babbled to Daniel, who was watching the two with a funny look on his face. “Missing the adoration already?” I teased under my breath. He flinched and scowled at me.
“Of course not, but he’s so much older than her. Is this even allowed?” he asked under his breath. I snorted and hid my grin behind my hand.
“The assumption is that he’ll notice. He didn’t notice when my friend Tracy returned his attention, and he’s definitely preoccupied now.” I nudged Daniel and he draped his arm around me like he’d been doing it for years.
“Well, after all is said and done, I guess we can’t give the position to anyone else, so she’ll have time to sort him out,” he suggested with a chuckle so soft I could only feel it through his ribcage. I leaned into his embrace and watched the steady rise and fall of Dancer’s chest through the thick webbing that embraced her and kept her upright and stationary while she was being monitored.
“I had a surprise for you, but it seems like now isn’t the best time,” he continued. “I was going to take you to my favorite place on the ranch. Maybe we should wait.”
Startled, I looked around the room at the ranch hands and Dr. Pallace, at this point, most of them just standing around, waiting for instructions on what to do next. Mr. Hargrave met my eyes and tipped his hat, then approached us, as though he already knew what we were talking about.
“Son, I think everything here is as good as it’s gonna get, for now,” he intoned in his gravelly bass. “I’ve had the men do a sweep of the stable, but they didn’t find anything. God, I’m sorry it happened to Pretty Dancer, but at the same time, I’m more worried that we’re going to lose Texas Tango after this.”
“I don’t think so,” I chimed in. “After all, Dancer is most likely going to pull through just fine. I don’t think a big deal needs to be made of a snake in the state of Texas. It just happens, well, how often does it happen?
” I inquired, my thoughts on Peacemaker.
“I heard a story from my grandad that he saw one in the barn as a kid,” Daniel offered. “So at best, every fifty years or so.” He set his hat firmly on his head and pursed his lips. “You know, Dad, I have a picnic basket with my name on it sitting in the kitchen waiting since just before supper. It would be a shame to waste it.” He made the remark so casually that it sounded insincere. Without knowing why, my heart hitched and my pulse sped up.
“Well, y’all gotta eat supper, son. You and Rachel did a hell of a thing here today. You should both take a break. Just maybe don’t take too long,” Mr. Hargrave suggested. I looked up at Daniel in askance, but he avoided my gaze, even when I poked him in the side trying to get his attention.
“Why don’t you go take a shower and relax for a minute, and I’ll bring dinner to you?” he asked. “Whichever guesthouse you prefer is fine with me.” He smiled, but it faded quickly, replaced by a furrowed brow and a faraway look aimed toward the sick horse behind us.
“Sure,” I answered lightly. “I’ll go back to my quarters, and if you don’t make it, I’ll throw a little something together before coming back here to relieve Pete. If he’ll let me,” I added the last without optimism. Pete was already giving the men around him orders to bring him a cot and bedding. He was definitely not going anywhere tonight.
“Oh, I’ll be there shortly,” Daniel replied in a distant voice. “You just get comfortable. I’ll take care of the rest.” Feeling as though I’d been dismissed, I nodded my head numbly and left them, stopping only to hug Pete and tell Verica my quarters would be open for her whenever she needed to go to sleep. She turned me down gently, and Pete added a cot for her to his own quarters without hesitation.
I made it about three steps out the door before strong arms grabbed me from behind and Pete enfolded me in a huge hug before I could even cry out in alarm.
“Thanks, sis,” he managed to say past new tears. “I can’t repay you, but I got your back, no matter what, from now on.” He released me and I patted his arm, my heart still racing and my hands shaking from the start he’d given me.
“You always had my back, Pete; that’s how I was here to help.” He hugged me one last, awkward time and disappeared back into the suite with Pretty Dancer.
With a deep breath that sounded suspiciously like a sigh, even to me, I made my way to the blessed heat and pounding pressure of a long, relaxing shower, where I tried to calm my suspicions about Daniel’s strange behavior. I reassured myself that his interest in Verica was both professional and in no way threatening, even as my hands shook just enough to make me cut my leg while shaving.
I practiced breathing and counting until my thoughts were my own again. I tried to simply enjoy the remainder of my steamy escape and stayed under the water until it cooled enough to force me to retreat, a bath sheet tucked tightly around my breasts and Skipper licking the excess water from my feet.
Chapter Eighteen
Daniel
Patty had been thoughtful enough to put off actually packing the picnic basket once she’d heard the source of all the commotion. She was just coming around to check on Dancer and Pete again when I bumped into her outside the medical suite. In less than a minute, she had assessed the dietary needs of everyone who refused to leave, some for Dancer, the rest out of loyalty to Pete.
She had me walk her back to the big house and set up meals for Pete, Verica, Dr. Pallace, and the men still hanging about wanting to be useful. My father and I set up a table outside the suite while she turned her attention to my abbreviated proposal surprise and by the time I had Verica and the men taken care of, my mother was filling a picnic basket with the petit fours and elegant, little meal she had made for Rachel and me.
She handed me the basket, gave me instructions regarding which wine would work with the meal and the question, and was out the door to help serve the evening meal at the stable. Fortunately, she had done it many times during difficult births, as well as the (blessedly few) times illness had rampaged through our livestock. Patty assured me they had everything under control and urged me to relax and enjoy the evening. I still had second thoughts about proposing after such a crazy and scary event. But, as my mother had reminded me, “If she’s going to live on a ranch, she’s going to get used to a crazy life.”
With that in mind, and hoping Rachel hadn’t changed hers after finding a rattlesnake in the stable only two stalls down from her beloved Peacemaker, I knocked to announce myself and walked into her quarters.
The living area was quiet and cooling quickly as night fell, but I could hear the shower running in the bathroom off the master suite. I lit a fire in the stone fireplace and slipped Skipper a treat of hard salami before letting him into the bathroom and closing the door behind him to keep him out of the food I was laying out.
The rug on the floor was real bearskin, but better judgment prevailed and I unfolded and laid out a picnic blanket over the rug before uncovering the small trays of cheese, fruit, tea cakes, and fresh French bread from the basket and setting them out on the large coffee table.
Almost as an afterthought, I remembered to uncork the wine and let it sit, hoping that it would have long enough before she ate. I looked at the scene I’d set in the flickering firelight and wondered if it was romantic enough to, at least temporarily, make her forget that we’d almost lost Pretty Dancer today. But for her quick thinking and practical veterinary skills, I reminded myself.
I heard muffled laughter as Rachel chided Skipper for being gross and licking her feet, and did one last quick assessment of my handiwork. Pleased with my results, I remembered to take off my boots and hat and hurried to the bedroom to catch Skipper before he slipped out and went to town on the food.
Rachel was fresh from the shower, damp and lovely in her towel, long hair dripping down her back as she giggled and danced in place, trying to stop Skipper. He, on the other hand, was excited to finally have his best friend back after a long evening being cooped up alone as Rachel had dealt with Dancer. He pounced and sprang away and lunged again like a puppy on a toy. She glanced at me and her eyes lit up.
“Get Daniel, Skipper; go get him, boy!” she gasped and crouched as Skipper wagged the whole back end of his body at her. He followed her pointing finger and obedient to a fault, he leapt at me as Rachel laughed out loud at my dismay.
“Oh, down, Skip. Down boy,” I chuckled as he wriggled on his back around my feet begging for attention. I scratched his belly and his tongue fell out sideways, lolling as he grinned. Rachel took the opportunity to lose the towel, and when I looked up, she was standing completely naked in front of her closet with her back to me.
In an instant, my jeans were a hell of a lot snugger, and I breathed out in a long, low whistle. She flinched, but pretended she hadn’t heard me and kept sorting through her clothes without turning around. It only took a few short steps to cross the room and slide my hands over her skin as she gasped.
“God, you are pretty,” I breathed in her ear as she shuddered under my hands. “Don’t wear too much. I don’t think we should waste a whole lot of time to get you naked again,” I leered. I grabbed the frilly, pink panties out of her hand and threw them across the room, fighting the urge to turn around as I heard Skipper bound over the bed after them.
“He’s going to eat those,” she remarked drily as she began to pull a dress off its hanger. I didn’t answer, but slid my hands down over her breasts and her stomach and leaned into her as I slipped my hand between her legs to cup her there. She gasped, but moved her legs a tiny bit farther apart so I could gently massage the mound of her in my hand.
“My God. You’re killing me; please just take me,” she panted as I used my fingers on her.
“Not yet, love. I have to feed you first.” I kissed the back of her neck gently and tried to pull my hand away. With an almost angry growl, she pressed her hand against mine, holding it in place. She ground herself against my hand and tilted her head back to kiss me
and I obliged, taking her breast in my other hand while I explored her mouth with my tongue.
Dinner forgotten, I picked her up without moving my hands from either her sweet, wet heat or her breast and tossed her on the bed. She sat up and tore at my pants, sliding them down over my hips until she released me, hard and erect, and held me in her hands, humming and licking her lips.
“Oh God, I need you,” she breathed staring up at me her mouth perilously close to my throbbing erection. “Do you want a kiss?”
I nodded dumbly, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my eyes closed automatically as she slid her lips over me and pushed down until I felt them against my stomach, and I was deep inside her. With a gasp I pulled away, afraid that I’d lose control right then and there.
“I want to make love to you,” I begged. I shoved her back on the bed and slid her up until her head was at her pillows. She lifted herself the last few inches so that her wet hair lay across the pillow, leaving long, wet stains that made me think of other things.
I kissed her gently from her thighs all the way up her body, leaving nothing untouched by my lips and tongue as she writhed beneath me. I whispered my love to her at every stop, paying special attention to the dripping wetness I drank in as I stared up the long line of her body. I moved up the webbing of scars that were hers, but also the failed attempt of the world to stop her, to end the force of nature that she was. I licked and teased one nipple, then the other, while my fingers found their home inside her and pulled her closer to the edge of release.
When I finally slid my slippery fingers into her mouth, I slipped inside her with a long, slow push that made her cry out around them. She lifted her hips and I replaced my fingers with my tongue, tasting her on her own lips while I thrust into her. Her hands snaked around my neck and she fisted her hands into my hair, so I did the same, winding her long, damp tendrils around my hand and pulling her head back so I could suck and kiss the soft skin of her throat.