The water pressure is better here than in my trailer, and I take full advantage of it with a shower so long I come out with wrinkled fingertips. I avoid my hair and scrub my body with his soap, making sure to bring it up my neck, where I know he’ll smell it the moment I meet him.
The lack of my clothes in this place is a problem, but I settle for one of his shirts and the only pair of sweatpants he has in his dresser. By the time I’m dumping the burnt coffee out of the pot that’s stained worse than the one in my grandma’s kitchen, I’m itching to get outside.
I remake the coffee and fill a travel mug with it, leaving it black. I’ve always hated coffee, but Rowe drinks it like he should water. On my way out, I snag a bottle of that, too, and then lock up behind me.
The loud snort from the side of the cabin startles me badly enough I toss the bottle of water into the dirt. I crouch and grab it while staring up at Diesel. Tied up to a post, he watches me excitedly, his ears high and open. There’s no sign of a rider in his saddle.
“Good morning, my love. What are you doing here?” I ask, approaching him.
My favourite horse shoves his head into my chest the moment I get close enough. I laugh, scratching under his neck. He bumps me again, gentler this time, like he’s begging for even more attention.
“I don’t have treats for you, so make sure to blame Rowe for that. He didn’t tell me you’d be here this morning.”
From the looks of it, he must have brought Diesel over early this morning. I was planning on walking to the stable this morning, but clearly, that’s not necessary anymore. Rowe didthat instead, leaving me with the horse he hasn’t allowed me to go near since I got hired here.
Of course, I didn’t listen, but he doesn’t know that. It’s not like Diesel can tattle on me for grooming him last week.
I move away from his big head and to the saddle bag at his side. My fingers clutch the note tucked into the flap, Rowe’s writing making my heart jump.
Borrow him for as long as you need to find a horse of your own. Key word: BORROW. He’s ready to go.
My breath catches in my throat before a laugh shoves it out. I slide the coffee mug and water bottle into the bag and tuck the note into my pocket where the other one sits.
Diesel doesn’t move a muscle while I unhook him and swing myself into the saddle. I shift around in it for a minute before taking his reins into a loose hold and giving my calves a gentle squeeze around his body.
He moves instantly. Knowing this horse as well as I do helps relax my sudden nerves a bit. I remind myself of that fact as we follow the road. I’ve been back at Painted Sky for a few weeks now, but this is the first time I’ve ridden Diesel since before I moved away.
The days and weeks we spent together were some of my most treasured memories. Diesel couldn’t ask me if I was okay or expect me to respond to a dozen worried texts and calls. There was no pressure to smile around him or put on a mask that grew to feel too suffocating. He just rode with me in silence, offering me the type of steady comfort that I’d needed more than anything.
Being here with him right now is helping my mental health more than I expected.
The sun’s beating into my back by the time I spot Rowe. He’s got the stubborn black horse directly in front of him as he runs a hand down the length of his back. The dirt in his coat is obviouseven from back here, and my fingers twitch around Diesel’s reins with the desire to brush him. At the very least, I need to get the packed dust and grime from his body. Even if that’s all he lets me do.
Diesel looks at Rowe when we pass the pen. Without needing to be told, I know I’ve got to get us a bit further away from the angry bastard he’s working with before I hop off. My cowboy glances over at us, risking a brief crack in his concentration just long enough to take in the sight of me and Diesel together. The wink I shoot him brings out his scowl. There’s no convincing me that he isn’t grinning on the inside, though.
Diesel makes a scoff-like noise when I don’t let him go say hi to Rowe, and I bend forward to rub his neck. “Oh, you’ll be fine. That horse would pick a fight with you if we got too close.”
I dismount beside the stable and tie him up before pulling the mug of coffee out of the saddle bag. My boots scuff the cement floor in the stable when I peek my head in. It’s empty this morning, not even Brock to be found shovelling shit.
Leaving that alone for now, I set my sights on the round pen and cross the road. Rowe doesn’t notice me when I hop onto the fence and sit on the top rung. He lowers his hand from the horse’s back and stays standing silently beside him. When he touches him again, he’s focused on the horse’s face. I palm the coffee mug with both hands and let the warm morning settle over my face and arms.
In baggy sweatpants and a shirt triple my usual size, I tip my head back and shut my eyes. There’s the light growl of a diesel engine somewhere in the distance and the clop of hooves on tightly packed dirt. Even the birds are chirping in the trees scattered throughout the ranch. If I tried hard enough, I’m sure I’d be able to pick up the smell of whatever Faye’s baking in the ranch house too.
Today is a good day, even if the sun’s only been up for a few hours.
Staring ahead again, I exhale. Rowe’s on the opposite side of the horse now, his hand on his back once again. It’s me he’s looking at, though, whether he means to or not.
The corner of my mouth tugs into a smile. It’s half-soft, half-teasing. I’d love nothing more than for him to come over to me right now. And when I see his hand fall to his side and his boots moving softly but firmly around the horse’s body, I get my wish.
It takes him a minute to reach me. My pulse is racing by the time he’s stepping between my legs and diving a hand into my messy hair. I don’t have a chance to speak before he’s craning my head back and kissing me.
I slump against his body, bracing an arm around his waist as he feasts on my mouth. The mug of coffee presses to his chest, but neither of us bothers to shift it. This is what I was waiting for. Him.
“Good morning,” I murmur.
He grunts, dragging his mouth to my jaw and inhaling. My stomach flutters in anticipation, knowing damn well what he’s smelling.
“My bed, my horse, and now my body wash too. Anything else you want, hellcat?”
