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Midnight Ride

Page 7

by Cat Johnson


  “Don’t go condemning the whole breed because we have one high-strung, unbroken stallion. He’ll be good once we work some with him.” Tyler cocked a brow. “And maybe if you’d feed him instead of talking, he’d stop kicking the damn wall.”

  That comment earned him a scowl, too, but at least Colton slipped inside the stall. He dumped the feed into the bucket and the horse quieted. Backing out of the door, he secured it and shot Tyler a look. “Maybe you need to go out and get laid.”

  “What? Why would you say that?” While a little sex was always a nice thought, Tyler had to wonder what had brought that comment on.

  “Because you’re acting like a dick today, that’s why.”

  He had been in a fine mood until Colton had started with his inquisition the moment he’d arrived. “You’re pretty pissy yourself, which only leads me to guess there wasn’t any action in the female department last night.”

  “Ha! Shows how much you know. There was plenty of action, and are you gonna be mad you missed it. So listen, Justin and I walk into the Thirsty Squirrel and there’s a—get this—wet T-shirt contest. . . .” Colton launched into a recap of the events of the night before as Tyler grinned.

  The subject of what he’d been doing the prior night seemed to be forgotten, for the present, anyway. Tomorrow, and every day after until he was done working at Janie’s place, would be another story, but he’d come up with something. He always did.

  He picked up another bucket and moved down the row to the next animal waiting to be fed. The procedure was the same pretty much every day. Not a lot of thought required to get through this part of the day. For a man who was trying to secretly juggle two jobs, that was a good thing. On autopilot, he listened to Colton chatter on. Tyler dumped the feed in the bucket for the gelding, locked the stall door again, and headed for the next bucket.

  After the horses had bolted down their morning meal, Tyler and Colton got busy with the rest of their morning chores. They turned the horses out to graze for the day, the geldings in one field and the mares in another.

  The black stallion, the problem child among the animals, would go into his own paddock. Tyler put the halter on the Arabian and led him out since the animal and Colton seemed to have issues with each other. The gorgeous animal walked like a dream on the lead rope, but Tyler didn’t let that fool him. Putting a saddle on the animal would be an entirely different story, but that was for later, after the horse had digested his feed.

  Until then, there was manure waiting in the stalls that they needed to clean. Not to mention bedding to replace and water buckets to be scrubbed and refilled, just like every other morning. Tyler grabbed a pitchfork and joined Colton, who’d already done the same.

  As they each worked separately, but only one stall apart, they could still talk while mucking. Luckily, Colton had a lot to report about the night before. All Tyler had to do was listen and make an appropriate response every now and again . . . and plan his escape to Janie’s later on.

  There was nothing more fun than sneaking around, even if it was only to harvest a field. Of course, the term a roll in the hay didn’t come from nothing. His mind wandered as Colton chattered on. Thoughts of the hay harvest were followed closely by images of the lovely Janie and all the things he’d love to do to her in that hay.

  Scooping manure and wet bedding out of the stalls wasn’t fun, but his thoughts had him smiling through the work.

  Tyler remained in a great mood, through Colton’s tales, through driving the tractor out to the manure pile, through setting up the afternoon feed buckets for the horses. He even faced the whites of the Arabian stallion’s eyes as he slipped the halter over its head in the round pen.

  “Good boy. We’ve got an understanding, you and I. Right? You let me ride you, and I’ll let you go back to that nice grass. Deal?” He rubbed the horse’s flank.

  The horse seemed to agree—at least he didn’t bite Tyler or try to kick him. That was good enough. He hooked the lead rope through the metal ring in the halter under the horse’s chin and gathered the slack in his hand. “Here we go. Into that nice ring. Nothing to worry about.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Colton watched as Tyler led the horse into the practice ring.

  “I’m getting on him.” He unhooked the lead rope and backed out of the gate, securing it behind him.

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yup.” Tyler ignored the doubt he heard in Colton’s tone. He leaned his forearms on the saddle and blanket he’d rested on the railing.

  “I think you need to start slow.”

  “He’s already halter broke. It’ll be fine.” Tyler watched the horse, hoping they had an understanding—the animal and he.

  The quicker they got their work done, the sooner both of them could get on to other things. The stallion could go back to grazing and Tyler could plow through the afternoon chores and then sneak over to Janie’s.

  “I don’t know. I think we should put a blanket on him first and trot him around the ring on a lead for a while. If he takes to that, put a saddle on him so he gets familiar with the weight and the feel of the girth. Work with him on the lunge rope with the saddle on and the stirrups up, and then drop the stirrups. Do that for a few days before you put the bridle on him. Wait until he’s used to everything before you get on.” Colton shrugged. “That’s how I’d do it, anyway.”

  Tyler threw a sideways glance at Colton. “I don’t work that way. I like to jump right in.”

  “Yeah, so I noticed. Like you did at the bar the other night with the chick and her bouncer fiancé. How’d that work out for you?”

  “Ha ha.” Tyler scowled.

  “Seriously, Tyler. I’m pretty sure Rohn won’t mind us taking our time with this one. He’s going to be worth a pretty penny after he’s saddle broke. When Justin breaks the horses, he takes a few days to let them get used to—”

  “Justin’s not here right now, is he?” Tyler shouldn’t have to remind Colton that Justin, in fact, had gotten trampled pretty good in the saddle bronc competition a few weeks back. But it wasn’t worth arguing about. Tyler let out a sigh. “All right. We’ll do it your way to start, but I sure as hell don’t think it will take as long as you laid out.”

  “How you figure?”

  “I’ll lunge him with the saddle on. Tire him out a bit. Then I’m getting on.”

  Colton cocked a brow. “A’ight. I guess we’ll see.” “Yes, we will.” Tyler climbed over the rail and turned to lift the blanket.

  Piece of cake . . .

  Chapter Ten

  “Up, down, up, down. There you go. You have to feel the motion of the horse and post in time with her step.”

  “She’s doing good, isn’t she? I mean, I know I’m a mother and I tend to gush, but I really think she looks good out there.”

  Janie smiled. “She is doing well. In fact, she’s doing great. We can have her cantering soon. Right after that, we can try jumping some ground poles.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “She seems so young to start jumping.”

  Janie laughed at her friend, Rene Morris. “Now you sound like a mother. Do you remember some of the stuff we used to do? Jumping on bareback. Racing through the field to see who could get to the pond first.”

  “Pretending we were rodeo queens and trying to ride standing up in the saddle while holding the American flag.” Rene groaned. “Oh, God, I do remember. We’re lucky we didn’t kill ourselves. Please, please never tell Khriste any of that.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” Janie smiled, her eyes on Khriste in the ring. She raised her voice to say, “Now reverse direction. And remember, you’ll have to post in time with the other leg now. Right?”

  Khriste, a model student, nodded. Rene settled a hand on Janie’s arm. “You’re a really good teacher.”

  “Thanks.” At least that was one thing that hadn’t changed in the last year. Janie could still give riding lessons.

  “You doin
g okay? You know, with everything?” The concern was evident in her friend’s question.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her well-practiced, rote answer slipped out easily.

  “You sure?” Rene wasn’t easily deceived. They’d known each other too long for that.

  Time for damage control. “Yeah. In fact, I’m thinking of expanding.”

  “Really? Can you handle that alone?”

  Janie didn’t like the doubt she heard in Rene’s voice. “Sure. I’m not talking about getting back into cattle. I’m thinking about boarding horses. As long as I’m tending my own, I might as well take care of a few more and get paid for it.”

  If she ever got ahead of the bills and stockpiled enough money to hire someone to build more stalls in which to house more horses.

  “Oh, that’s a good idea. That will probably open up your lessons to a wider group, all the people who are boarding here.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping.”

  There had been many things she didn’t agree with her father on while growing up, but that was one decision she couldn’t argue with now—her father’s insistence that if she was going to ride, she had to be trained in both Western and English styles.

  Back then, her young self had been livid to have to sit through jumping lessons when all she’d wanted to do was learn to barrel race like the girls she’d seen competing in the rodeos her grandfather took her to.

  In hindsight, it was a very good thing her father had forced her into things sometimes. He’d paid for her to go to college. He’d let her choose her own major, but when she’d told him she was joining the rodeo team, he’d made her take equine management classes and jump competitively, as well.

  That she could advertise she was trained in both styles of riding, and the fact she had blue ribbons from taking first place in jumping competitions, only made her more marketable as a teacher. Little did she know back then that years later she’d have to survive off the money she made from teaching riding.

  “Oh, before I forget. Here.” Rene shoved a few folded bills at Janie.

  She shook her head. “No. You don’t have to pay me. You’re a friend. I’m not going to take your money.”

  “Janie, we’ve gone through this ever since you started teaching Khriste. Just take the damn money.”

  “But—”

  “Nope.” Rene shook her head. “I told you before, if you don’t let me pay you, I’ll just find another teacher to give Khriste lessons and pay her. And you know whoever that teacher is can’t possibly be as good with her as you are.”

  This was a losing battle they’d been through before. Janie sighed. She took the cash and shoved it into the front pocket of her jeans. “All right. But I’m warning you. I’m putting anything you pay me aside and I’m buying her the best birthday and Christmas gifts I can think of with it.”

  “You’d better not spoil my child. I’m the one who’ll have to deal with her later.”

  “That’s what being a godmother is all about. Spoiling your best friend’s kid . . . and then sending her home to her parents.” Janie grinned at the friend she’d known for almost as long as she could remember.

  “You coming to church tomorrow?” Rene asked.

  “Of course.” Janie frowned at the sudden change of subject.

  “Good.”

  Suspicious, Janie leveled her gaze at her friend. “Why good?”

  Rene looked guilty as sin as she shrugged. “No reason. Just wondering.”

  Janie had missed church on Sunday morning exactly twice in the past ten years. Once when she’d had the flu and decided if she did manage to get herself out of bed to go, she’d only infect the entire congregation with her germs, which didn’t seem like the Christian thing to do.

  The other time was when there’d been a horrible ice storm and even taking the truck with its four-wheel drive into town would have been too dangerous. It turned out that the preacher had canceled services that day, anyway.

  She’d even managed to attend through the worst of Tom’s illness. He’d insisted she take the time for herself and go, knowing it would help her to get out and see people. He was right. It had.

  The point was, it was a strange question from her best friend, who knew her habits better than anyone. Something was up with Rene, and Janie had a feeling she knew what.

  “Rene . . .” She kept her voice low with warning and a good dose of suspicion.

  “What?” Rene asked, the tone of innocence way over-the-top. She stared toward her daughter in the ring. “Hey, is Khriste posting correctly?”

  Rene knew Janie well, but it worked both ways. Janie knew when her friend was trying—badly—to hide something from her. With one quick glance at the horse and rider she said, “She’s posting fine. Now, answer my question. What are you up to? And it had better not be a setup. I told you, I don’t want to be fixed up with any men.”

  “It’s not a setup. He goes to church. You go to church. So what’s the harm if you’re at the same place at the same time and happen to both sit with me and Tim and Khriste?” Rene shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “He’s single. You’re single. . . .”

  The suggestion hung in the air, and Janie decided she needed to nip Rene’s plan in the bud immediately. “First of all, I’m not single. I’m a widow.”

  “A technicality.” Rene dismissed that protest with the flick of one wrist.

  “It’s not a technicality to me.” Janie let out a huff of air. If her best friend didn’t understand how she felt, who could? “I’m not ready to be blindsided and thrown into some date. Especially not at Sunday-morning service.”

  Not now. Probably not ever.

  Dating. Christ. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d be forced back into the dating world. Her wedding day was supposed to be the end of that. And the start of her happily-ever-after. Forever, together. ’Til death did them part . . . and it had.

  “It’s been a year, Janie.” Rene’s voice softened. “Tom died. You didn’t. You’re allowed to live.”

  “I know that.” The tears were too close to the surface to say more. Not tears of mourning, though she’d cried many of those. Of disbelief over how her life had altered so drastically, and her inability to prevent any of it. Tiredness, too. Bone-deep weariness that had her near tears all of the time it seemed.

  Janie turned her gaze to Rene. “Just give me time. Please.”

  Rene pressed her lips tight before finally letting out a big breath. “Okay. No fix-ups. But be warned, I invited Clyde to sit with us tomorrow, so . . .”

  Janie closed her eyes for a second and gathered herself. “Did you mention me to him?”

  “No.”

  “Rene, swear to me.”

  “I swear.” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t. I thought there’d be less pressure if I didn’t say anything first.”

  Thank goodness for that. Janie sighed. “All right. Just don’t bring me up. At all. I’ll go to service, I’ll sit with you like I usually do, but nothing more.”

  “Okay.” Rene’s pitch rose as she got defensive under the weight of Janie’s glare.

  “Promise me.” Janie eyed her friend, trusting her in this particular matter about as far as she could throw her.

  “I promise.” Rene went so far as to make a cross over her heart with her finger.

  Guessing she couldn’t get any better than that, Janie gave up. “All right. Now, can I please concentrate on your daughter’s lesson?”

  “Go ahead.” Rene folded her arms. “Who’s stopping you?”

  It was a good thing she loved this woman like a sister. Janie shook her head and brought her attention back to where it belonged—her student. “Okay, Khriste. Good job. Time to cool her down. Slow to a walk.”

  “You look great, honey.” Back in mommy mode, Rene shaded her eyes and watched her daughter rein in the mare.

  Maybe it was time Rene had another baby. That might give her something else to worry about other than Janie’s social life—or lack of
one. She was considering mentioning that when the sound of a vehicle on the gravel drive caught her attention.

  She turned to see Tyler’s truck and smothered a groan. Worlds colliding could be a bad thing. The twentysomething she’d been lusting over since first spotting him hiding in her truck and her best—not to mention nosiest—friend whom she’d known since they were little girls were about to meet.

  Maybe she didn’t have to worry about that fix-up tomorrow at church, because she was sure Rene would be grilling her about Tyler during the service instead. Then again, it wasn’t like Rene to put off until tomorrow what she could do today, so more than likely the questions would come immediately and she’d still have to deal with what amounted to a blind date at church.

  In essence, her troubles had just doubled, but Janie still got a little flutter from seeing Tyler’s door swing wide and him stretch his long, lean leg toward the ground. She couldn’t help but think that if Tyler was her biggest problem today, she was doing pretty damn good.

  By the time the rest of his big body emerged from the cab, Rene was watching him as well. He’d parked close enough that his strong jawline and killer muscles beneath the taut cotton of his shirt were clearly visible from where they stood.

  “Who the hell is that?” There was more than curiosity in her tone. Rene’s comment also held a good dose of admiration.

  Janie couldn’t blame her. There was a lot about Tyler Jenkins to admire. She was doing just that—appreciating how good he looked as he stepped out of his truck—as she tried to pacify Rene with an answer that wouldn’t raise more questions. “He’s one of my neighbor’s hired hands. He’s going to be helping me with the hay harvest.”

  “Well, well, well. I think I could come up with a few things I’d like him to help me with, as well.”

  Janie frowned and turned to her friend. “What are you talking about? You’re a married woman.”

  “Uh-huh.” Rene nodded without taking her eyes off Tyler. “Doesn’t mean I can’t look, now does it? Gather a little fodder to get me warmed up for date night with the husband. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

 

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