“No, Daddy. I just thought it was funny. And everyone was laughing.”
“Well, in that case.” His voice sharpened another fraction, “you didn’t just let me down. You let yourself down. And you need a punishment to help you remember what happens when fun takes over judgment.”
Her face crumpled, tears brimming again.
Sam stepped closer, kneeling until he was at eye level with them all. “Look, I know it started as fun. But actions have consequences. The goal isn’t just to punish you. It’s to help you understand that boundaries matter. Even in play.”
Easton’s gaze flicked toward Danny. “Did any of you stop to think? What if someone new saw one and got the wrong idea about the Ranch?”
Danny’s mouth opened. Then closed again.
He hadn’t thought about that. None of them had.
Sam continued, his voice gentler now. “Sometimes helping someone have fun means knowing when to stop. And sometimes, when you don’t stop, your friends get caught in the fallout.”
Derek folded his arms and gave them a long, level look. “Since you’re already seated, you’re going to stay that way. Notalking. No fidgeting. Fifteen minutes. I want you to think about your actions.”
He tapped the crown on his Apple Watch and spoke clearly. “Start timer for fifteen minutes.”
Siri replied, “Fifteen minutes. Counting down.”
The hay had been scratchy before, but with no giggles, no whispering, and no movement to distract Danny from his miserable thoughts, it became torture. A sharp stalk was poking his perineum, and he tried to shift his weight ever so slightly.
“Stop timer.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Danny, did you just move?”
He hung his head. “Yes, Sir.”
“Set timer for fifteen minutes.”
Danny closed his eyes as Siri confirmed the restart. He desperately wanted to apologize. Not just to Master Derek, but to Sadie, Georgie, Blake, and Lori too. But his lips had to stay sealed. So, he screamed it in his head instead.
I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. Please hear me. Please.
The barn door creaked open, letting in a hush of voices. He didn’t look. Didn’t even blink. It didn’t matter who it was. Maybe one of the stable hands. Whoever it was, they were muttering low and serious, and Danny’s stomach curled tighter.
A stall door groaned on its hinges. Then came a rhythmic clip-clop of hooves across the packed dirt. The horse passed so close that Danny caught the warm scent of hay-dusted fur and leather. Another gust of wind rushed through the barn, and icy air swept beneath him, straight up between his legs like nature itself was punishing him. He clenched every muscle to keep from shivering.
The minutes dragged. The weight of silence pressed on his shoulders heavier than any punishment. All he could hear was breathing and the occasional impatient flick of a horse’s tail.
Then, at long last, Derek’s watch chimed.
“You can stand now and decide. Will you be writing lines or do you prefer to get fifty strokes with my paddle?”
“Fifty?” Georgie’s voice cracked. “I’ll do lines.”
“We messed up,” Danny whispered. “We know that.”
Easton crouched beside him. “And what are you going to do to make it right?”
Danny looked at the others. Blake was staring at his toes. Georgie looked like she wanted to disappear. Sadie was wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
“I want to write lines,” Danny said. “Real ones. Not fast scribbles. I’ll do a bunch if it helps. And we can take the stickers down ourselves.”
“I’ll help,” Georgie said immediately. “We’ll take down every single one.”
