by K. C. Crowne
“Then get to it.” Those were Bryce’s last words before he headed off. I watched him go, disappearing into the front door of the main ranch.
“Fuckin’ prick.” I thought I’d grumbled the words low, but the chuckle of one of the nearby crewmen let me know I’d been a little slack with keeping it to myself.
The crewman walked off, a smirk on his face. I set to the job. Wasn’t much to do, truth be told, and I probably could’ve done the rest of the land surveying without actually coming to the property. But doing it in person was better. And more than that, I wanted to see if I could find out anything about what he had in mind for Skye.
The thought of her and what Bryce had pulled made me want to storm into the house and lay him out. The motherfucker had gone too far. But I needed to keep myself in check, play it cool. Slugging him in his smug face might feel good in the moment, but it wouldn’t do a damn bit of good getting to the bottom of the matter.
I headed over to the plot of land, taking some last measurements and deciding where we could set up our gear for when the time came to start construction. About an hour past, the hot Texas air was beginning to take its tool. I grabbed a bottle of Gatorade from my truck and headed over to one of the barns to cool off.
I pulled the door open and was greeted with the sight of one of the most magnificent horses I’d ever seen in my life. He was huge, oak-brown with cream-colored swirls running through his coat. He snorted as I approached, locking his coal-black eyes onto me.
“Damn,” I said, stepping up to him. “You’re a hell of a creature.”
Moving slowly so I didn’t spook the horse, I drew closer and placed my hand on his side. He was solid as a brick wall, the kind of animal you’d be proud to throw a saddle on and ride.
“Es guapo, no?”
I turned to see the crewman from earlier, the one who’d laughed at my joke at Bryce’s expense, stepping towards me. He was a short, dark-skinned man, likely Mexican. Dressed in the usual plaid and denim and boots, he sure looked the part of a rancher.
“Guessin’ that you hearin’ what I said earlier means you speak English. And yeah, he’s guapo as hell.”
“I speak English, sure.” He reached my side and admired the horse with me. “Name’s Quicksilver.”
I cocked my head to the side in mock confusion. “Don’t sound like no Mexican name I’ve ever heard.”
The man laughed. “Funny guy. That’s the horse. My name’s Gael.”
“Adam. Pleasure.” I extended my hand and he took it, Quicksilver watching us all the while.
“Impressive animal, no?”
“Very impressive. Looks fast, too – bet he’s earned that name.”
Gael made a slow circle around Quicksilver, dragging his fingers over his coat. “Fast as hell. Was fast as hell, to be more exact.”
“What do you mean? Animal looks like he’s got years left in him.”
Gael shook his head sadly. “You heard of synovitis?”
“Nope. What’s that?”
He gestured to one of Quicksilver’s legs. “It’s a joint inflammation. Common with horses. It can be treated, not fatal or anything like that. But it means they’re not fit to race. Last thing a horse with that needs is to be pushed to the limit. Easy way to make a bad problem worse.”
“So he’s one of Bryce’s racin’ horses?”
Gael nodded, returning to my side. “Prize-winning animal. You should’ve seen him run when he was in his prime. Well, he’s still in his prime. But he shouldn’t be running anymore.”
“Then he’s stayin’ on the property? Maybe take him out so the tourists can ride him around?”
“That’s what he should be doing, yes. But Bryce doesn’t want to let him go so easily. Paid a lot of money for this guy.”
“What’re you sayin’ here? Quicksilver oughta be takin’ it easy, but Bryce still wants to race him?”
“Exactamente. The rules at his racing grounds say that as long as a horse doesn’t have a major injury, they’re fit to race.”
“Shit. So you’re tellin’ me this guy’s in no shape to run, but Bryce is makin’ him do it anyway?”
Gael nodded again, sticking his hand into his pocket. “It’s pinche ridiculo if you ask me. Maybe he’ll get a few races out of him, but it’s only a matter of time before something bad happens, you know?”
The idea sent a wave of anger through me.
“But there’s some good news, right?”
“What’s that?”
“I hear talk of these people, protestors or activists or whatever. They’re making a big fuss at the race grounds, trying to get some measures passed that would tighten restrictions for the horses, make it so a guy like Quicksilver wouldn’t be able to race.”
No doubt Skye and her friends were who Gael was referring to. “And I’m sure Bryce is takin’ that like a champ.”
Gael laughed. “Not a chance in hell, amigo. He’s fighting them, uh, how to do you say in English, tooth and nail. Every step of the way. And you can tell when he’s losing because he storms around the grounds like a madman, snapping at everyone like some kind of cranky nino.”
A worried expression flashed on Gael’s face. “Ah, hell. I’ve got a big mouth, said too much already. I know we just met, but can I trust you to keep what I just said to yourself? Last thing I need is Bryce finding out. He fired some poor guy the other day for grumbling under his breath about him. He finds out I said any of this…”
“Don’t you worry about it. I’m right there with you on the horses – damn shame.”
He appeared relieved. “Anyway, I need to get back to work. Good to meet you, Adam.”
Gael gave Quicksilver one last look over before nodding to me and heading out. Once he was gone, I sat down on one of the nearby bales of hay and opened my drink, draining half of it in a single sip.
It was some bullshit, no doubt about that. And I didn’t have any illusions about whether Bryce’s pissy-ass mood a bit ago had to do with what was going on with Skye.
Those two were about to butt heads in a big way. And there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Travis and I were about to get caught up in the middle of it.
Skye
Greta was in a hell of a mood. Cranky, fussy, and not wanting to cooperate. But I’d dealt with difficult girls like her before. All they needed was a soft touch. My specialty.
“Alright, girl,” I said, standing beside the gorgeous Andalusian, her colors a deep orange blended with black streaks. “We’re gonna head out for a ride today. I know that’s scary, and I know you don’t exactly take kindly to people throwin’ a saddle on you and ridin’, but we’re gonna ease on into it, y’hear?”
Greta shifted where she stood, tense and antsy. Part of me wanted to take it slow with her, maybe spend a couple of hours getting to know her a little better and letting her do the same to me.
But there was the prideful part of me. Shana, one of the other employees on the ranch, had mentioned Greta as being particularly hard to work with. The Walkers had bought her a couple months back, and since then not a single ranch hand had managed to get her to cooperate.
There was even talk among the more superstitious crew that she was bad luck, one of those horses who simply couldn’t be tamed. Even that her bad attitude might spread to the rest of the animals, making previously cooperative ones ornery. So, of course, that meant I had to be the one to tame her. And the faster I did, the more my reputation around the ranch would grow. I wasn’t there to be any other employee – I wanted to be the best. I wanted the Walkers to know I was the best.
I grabbed a handful of oats from a nearby feedbag and stepped in front of Greta. “You hungry, girl?”
She regarded the oats with skepticism, or what skepticism might look like coming from a horse. And she didn’t touch them. Instead, she kicked her back legs up and let out an angry snort. I jumped back without thinking, the oats puffing into the air and settling on the ground around my feet.
I scolded myself for
being so antsy. The key to calming a horse was to be calm yourself. Like dogs, they picked up on the emotions of people around them. If you were tense, they were tense. If you were easy and calm, they were the same. I took a few deep breaths, steadying myself.
“OK,” I soothed. “I know you’re feelin’ weird about this whole thing. You’re probably like, who the hell is this insane girl tryin’ to be my friend? Well, I wouldn’t blame you. But I got a feelin’ about you and me, Greta. We’re gonna be best buds. How does that sound?”
Greta shifted again, thudding her hooves into the ground and making me wonder for a moment if she was about to break out into a run. But I remained calm, not letting the tension running through my body get the best of me.
“Alright,” I continued. “Maybe I’m bein’ bold here, but I’m gonna at least take that as a ‘maybe’ to the whole idea of you and I bein’ buds. And I know you’ve gotta be hungry, girl.”
I went over to the feedbag and grabbed another handful of oats. I stepped in front of Greta again and held them out. “Can’t not eat, right? And come on, I know these oats have to look mighty good to you.”
I took a few from my hand and popped them into my mouth. They were dry and flavorless, sucking the moisture out of my mouth as soon as they touched my tongue. “Mmmm,” I said, forcing them down with a dry swallow. “Better than a slice of pizza with extra mushrooms, that’s for damn sure.”
I held out my hand again, just a few inches from Greta’s face. “I know you’re thinkin’ the same thing as me. Go ahead, girl. Give ‘em a try. I bet you’ll like ‘em.”
Greta eyed the oats again, and for a moment I was certain she was going to swing her head and knock them right out of my hand. But she opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and slurped the entire pile off my palm. Her tongue tickled my skin, and I let out a quiet laugh as she ate.
“There you go!” I murmured. “Now, isn’t it nicer to be a good girl than an ornery one? Think about all the friends you’re gonna make here with this chipper new attitude of yours. Sounds good, right?”
Greta let out a snort.
“Alright, alright,” I said. “We can start slow. No need to be the life of the party right away.”
I reached forward and slowly stroked her coat. To my surprise, she allowed it. I couldn’t help but let a big smile form on my face as I did it.
“That’s mighty impressive.”
I turned where I stood. Travis was at the open door to the barn, leaning against the frame with a sure grin on his face, which was one of the big differences between him and Adam. Both men were personable enough, but Adam had an intensity to him, a more private nature. Travis, on the other hand, struck me as the sort of guy who’d always be down for a pitcher of cheap beer. Maybe a party after.
“Always sneak up on ladies like that?”
“Only when it’s funny to see them jump.”
“Charming,” I said with a smile.
Travis approached, his sharp boots thudding on the hay-strewn barn floor as he did. His eyes were on Greta, and he stopped a few feet short of her. “You’re gettin’ through to the girl. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Well,” I said. “I ain’t done with her yet. Plan is to have a saddle on her by the end of the day and take her for a ride.”
Travis raised his thick, dark eyebrows as he took off his hat. “That right? Now, don’t you go bitin’ off more than you can chew, alright?”
“Trust me. I love a challenge.”
“If you say so. Not expectin’ miracles, but I’d be lyin’ if I were to say that I wouldn’t be impressed.” He checked the face of his simple but nice leather-band watch. “It’s about time for food. Family’s sittin’ down for lunch, but I’m too busy for a big production like that. Got some sandwiches on the way if you wanna grab a bite with me.”
I glanced away, wondering if this was Travis’s way of inviting me to his cabin for more than just lunch.
“Don’t you worry about that,” he commented, as if reading my mind. “Not thinkin’ about anything more than just grub. But there is somethin’ I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
“That right? Bad?”
“Someone’s paranoid,” he said with a laugh. “No, it ain’t bad. But it’s important. You cool with talkin’?”
His tone suggested I did, indeed, have a say in the matter, which I really liked about Travis – he was a rugged cowboy through-and-through, but he still had a sense of not pushing too hard.
“Yeah, I could go for a bite. Tamin’ horses is hungry work.”
He grinned. “Then you’re workin’ up an appetite. Let’s go.”
I gave Greta one last look over before we headed out. We climbed into his truck and drove across the property, the lowered windows breezing the sheen of sweat off my face. When we reached his cabin, I climbed out without waiting for him to open my door. Guess I was in an independent sort of mood. He opened the door to his place and we entered. We weren’t there for long before he got a call from the delivery guy, and Travis told him to come onto the property.
“Somethin’ to drink?”
“Yeah, I’ll take a non-alcoholic somethin’. I ain’t done with Greta, and I wanna make sure my head’s sharp.”
“Smart girl.”
He pulled a couple of Cokes out of the fridge. After tossing one to me, a knock sounded from the door. Travis opened it, greeted the delivery guy, and took the bags of food. Then he sat on the couch and laid out the spread.
“I got Italian and a tuna melt. Lady’s choice.”
“Tuna, please.”
He nodded and opened the sandwich packages. But I was more curious than hungry.
“Alright,” I said. “What’s the story?”
Travis opened a bag of salt and vinegar chips, popped one into his mouth and thought the question over. “It’s about you. About your safety.”
“I figured as much. But I want you to know I’m more than capable of lookin’ out for myself.”
“Had a feelin’ you might say that.”
“You think it’s bullshit?”
He dusted his hands and cracked open his Coke. “Nah. Not tryin’ to say your helpless. But you are as stubborn as ol’ Greta out there.”
“It’s worked for me so far.”
“Sure. But somethin’ like that, well, it works until it doesn’t. And the last thing I want to see is you gettin’ into a heap of trouble because you’re thinkin’ you can take on Bryce all by yourself.”
I sat back, sipping my Coke thoughtfully. “So, you wanna be the white knight who saves me from the spoiled, rich dragon.”
He laughed. “That’s one way to put it. But nah. And it ain’t just me – Adam’s just as interested in your safety as I am.”
“But he’s done enough. Let me stay at his house, drove me around…I don’t feel right accepting anything more.”
“Gonna be blunt with you, Skye – it’s not an issue of what you feel like accepting. I know what he did to your car, and I’m damn sure he’s capable of more. And I ain’t about to let Bryce pull off whatever he’s got in mind.”
I sighed before biting into my tuna sandwich. The bread was crisp, the tuna flavorful, and the cheese melty and delicious. Sure as hell hit the spot. But like I said, I was more curious than hungry. After swallowing, I asked, “Then what, you’re gonna storm his property action-movie-style and teach him a thing or two?”
“Nothin’ so severe,” he said with a chuckle. “More what I’m thinkin’ is that you’re not safe at your place. Neither I nor Adam are comfortable lettin’ you stay there on your own.”
“You aimin’ to stay with me? Both of you?”
The idea of Travis and Adam crashing at my joint, well, it got me hot and wet right where I sat. Sure, there was a hell of a lot of bullshit with Bryce going on, but all it took was one look at Adam or Travis to get me thinking about how good it felt to have both of them inside me at once. Sure as shit I wanted to take those broncos for another ride. B
oth at once.
“Nah. Got a better idea, one that’s a little less, uh, cramped for us.” He gestured toward the front door. “You stay at the ranch.”
My brow furrowed. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious. We got plenty of space here, and anyone would have to be crazy to come here and try somethin’ stupid with all the Walker boys lookin’ out for you.”
“Oh, so I got the whole crew on my side?” I tossed a chip into my mouth.
“Sure you do. They hear all about what’s goin’ on with Bryce,” he informed me. “There’s not a chance in hell they’ll let him pull any crap.”
“And…they’ll be fine with me stayin’ here? A total stranger?”
“Well, I’m not thinkin’ you’ll be a total stranger for long. You can meet everyone tonight at dinner.”
My eyes widened. “You…want me to come over for dinner?”
“Sure do.” He gestured to the food in front of us. “If Mama G found out I was eatin’ takeout for lunch instead of a homecooked meal, why, she’d string me up.”
“Mama G?”
“That’s what we call our mama. You’ll meet her tonight.”
I shifted in my seat, and Travis’s expression softened. He reached over and placed his hand on my leg. It was a comforting gesture, sure, but the sensation of his hand on my body turned me on. Damn, did I want him – on top of me, behind me, pushing me up against the wall.
“Listen, you don’t need to worry about whatever it is your worryin’ about. You’re a member of the crew, which means you’re already a member of the family as far as the rest of us are concerned. You’ll fit right in, and we’ll get you a place to stay. Whole room all to yourself, all the food you can eat.” He smiled at me. “Sound alright?”
“I mean, it doesn’t sound bad at all, I suppose,” I agreed. “Still not sure how I feel about bein’ looked after like some kinda kid.”