I sigh deeply and the tension melts away as I urge Cash toward the rogue steer. I zero in, whipping the lasso in an arc around my head before letting it fly, grinning as it lands perfectly. Tripp lets out an excited whoop.
When I get the steer back to the herd, Pops’ eyes crinkle in a weathered smile underneath his Stetson. “Atta boy! I knew you still had it in ya.”
My grin widens. Every single inch of me is sore, but I’m unsure when the last time was that I felt this proud of something I’d done.
Sawyer says nothing, but the little smirk she’s wearing, and her thoughtful look, tells me I’ve taken her by surprise. Something about proving her preconceptions about me wrong and seeing that mildly startled expression on her face makes me want to do it again.
That Damn Stetson
Sawyer
The sun dips below the horizon as I finish the evening chores. It had been a warm October day, but the warmth went with the sun, the autumn chill slowly creeping into the twilight hour. I inhale the crispness of fall mixed with the more prominent smell of horses.
Wes had surprised me yet again. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have thought he was one of us by the end of the day, especially in those Levi's and that Stetson.
Seeing Wes fully clad in cowboy attire had my body and brain at odds with one another. I was not proud of how much seeing him roping had turned me on. A simple hat and tight jeans should not have affected my body as much as they had, especially when I knew he was only here for one reason: to get Pops to sell the ranch.
And then there was my brain. I couldn’t stand Wes, despite the way I’d been ogling him today. From his know-it-all attitude to his derisive remarks about Cottonwood Creek. But he’d be out of here soon enough, so thinking of the way those Levi’s hugged his butt or how he’d known exactly how to let the horses greet him or his biceps flexing as he roped in the cows that strayed too far was senseless.
It was a good thing they didn’t need me or the horses for any more work at Dawson Ranch this week. I was beat from pulling double duty between the ranch and training the horses.
As a matter of fact, I’d neglected working with the young, temperamental gelding I recently rescued. The rescue I’d gotten him from had named him Lucifer and the name sure did suit. I was hoping to have him ready to ride by the end of fall, but we’d made little progress with each other these past few weeks.
I put Cash, June, Willie, and Dolly in the stable for the night and walk down to greet the rest of the crew. Clover and Poppy knicker softly and come right up to the stall door for attention. But when I move a few stalls down, Lucifer huffs out an agitated neigh and stomps his hooves. I talk softly to him for a few minutes, waiting for him to calm down. His ears still twitch, but he quiets and lets me take a step toward him. I grab a sugar cube from my pocket to entice him to come closer.
His nose twitches as he sniffs the air. He takes one tentative step toward me and then another. My patience is rewarded when he takes the sugar cube from my hand. He munches gingerly as I reach out to stroke his neck. He doesn’t flinch under my touch like he did when I first got him, and I’m grateful he’s learning to trust me. There’s a lot more work that will need to be done with him, but I like taking on a challenge, and this horse is definitely a challenge.
The rescue said he was neglected and likely abused as a young horse. I saved him from being euthanized, but now it’s up to me to help him reach his full potential. He’s a beautiful horse, all black with dark, soulful eyes and a spirit to match his monicker.
Once Lucifer finishes the sugar cubes I've used as a bribe, he backs away.
"We'll get there, bud," I promise. I count it as a win and wipe my hands off on my jeans before shoveling some hay into the feeders and refilling the water buckets for the night.
Once I finish with the horses, I check on the goat enclosure again, making sure that Roscoe hasn’t been working on putting another hole in the fence before I feed and water them and close them into the small barn.
I sigh as I enter the house, flipping the lights on as the blaring silence surrounds me. Being perpetually single has led to lots of lonely nights in this house, but I’m more content now than I ever was when I was married.
I’m happy running my business on my own, having a couple of close friends and hobby animals that keep me busy. But that doesn’t stop loneliness from creeping in from time to time, especially as the nights grow longer, colder and quieter. The difference betweenthisand the loud and boisterous day I had at Dawson Ranch is stark.
I already ate supper with the guys out by the fire pit, and I grilled everything up in tin foil so there are no dishes for me to do.
I kick off my boots and ignore the ache in my hands from holding onto the reins for hours. It’s a sign that my lupus might be flaring, something that is sure to put a wrench in my training plans for Lucifer.
Sometimes I can ride all day without any problems, and other times my symptoms flare up, and I need to make an excuse to get out of thesaddle. If Wes hadn’t been here, it would have been much more difficult to leave Pops and Tripp to finish vaccinating.
Lucky for me, Weswashere.
I hope the pain in my hands doesn’t indicate a major flare-up coming. There’s too much work to be done around here for me to be down for weeks at a time. A problem horse that needs training and a problem city boy who needs put in his place.
I massage my knuckles, deciding it’s time for some anti-inflammatories for the incessant ache. The silence eats at me, little anxieties sneaking through the quiet to worry away at my wellbeing. I need a distraction.
I snag my phone out of my pocket, wincing a little when my stiff fingers don’t want to do what I’m asking them to. My body is a hot mess today. Good thing Allie is on speed dial.
The phone rings twice before she picks up, her voice bright and cheery. “Hey. I was just going to call you and see how your day with the boys went. Any bodies you need help disposing of?”
I’d called Allie yesterday to tell her I might need help burying a body since I had to work with Wes a second day in a row.
“He wore his old Stetson today.”
