When he walks out the door, I slouch in the chair and ponder exactly what in the hell I just agreed to.
I drive over to Dawson Ranch once I finish up my training sessions for the day. Pops has needed me less since Wes has been here, and it has been nice to have some extra time with the horses.
It’s been a warm start to fall. It’s mid-October and still in the 80s this afternoon. And while the mornings and evenings have the chill of autumn and the leaves are taking on multi-colored hues, the sun is bright and glaring this afternoon, making the flannel over my graphic tee feel stifling.
I wander toward the feed barn. Hay is stacked on pallets that line the wall, and the sun shines through, hitting on an empty swallow’s nest. In summer, the swallows fly in and out in droves, but now that the nights have cooled, they’ve started their migration further south.
The feeder herd we penned for vaccinations are back out in the pasture, grazing, and I find Tripp and Wes cleaning out the pens and the feeders. They’re too busy laughing to hear my approach, and I’m taken aback by the sight of Wes with a smile.
I’m so used to seeing him scowling at me, lips curled in disgust, that the smile takes me by surprise. His eyes crinkle at the corners and a dimple deepens the left side of his cheek.
I look Wes over while he shovels out manure. His biceps flex as he works, and I’m not sure what it is I find so alluring about him cleaning up literal shit, but I like the way he looks when he’s doing it. He’s notafraid to get his hands dirty, and it’s a big step up from how he appeared on his first day back in town. With the dirty Levi’s and his Stetson resting on his head, he looks like he belongs here.
“What are you smiling at, Sawyer?” Tripp calls out, pulling me from my ogling.
I tear my eyes from Wes, and I take in Tripp’s knowing grin. No way in hell could he know I was checking out Wes. He’d never let me hear the end of it.
I narrow my gaze. “Can’t a girl just be happy it’s such a beautiful day?”
“A girl can. But you’re not a girl. You’re more like a honey badger,” Tripp teases.
Wes wipes the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt, and my mouth goes dry. “He’s got a point there, Red.” He drops his T-shirt that’s now dotted with his sweat.
I put a hand on my hip. “And here I came by to give you the opportunity of a lifetime.”
Wes stops shoveling, and his gaze trails slowly up my body before finally resting on my face. “Oh yeah. And what would that be?”
I shrug and pray that I’m convincing. “I was going to offer to teach you how to train a horse.”
He scoffs. “I’ve trained horses before.”
“Not one like Lucifer, you haven’t.”
He leans on his shovel, his interest piqued. “You’re gonna let me train Luci?”
I let out an unladylike snort. “Luci?”
He smirks at me. “Lucifer is a terrible name. I thought I’d try out a nickname.”
I purse my lips. I’m not sure if I hate the nickname or if I just hate that Wes came up with it first.
“I’m not letting you train him. You’d probably get yourself killed. I’m going to teach you how to train him.”
His eyes narrow in suspicion. “Why?”
I shrug again, wanting to seem nonchalant, as if I don’t care whether or not he takes me up on my offer. “He seemed taken by you the other day. After you spooked him and made him throw me, that is.”
“You what?” Tripp chimed in.
“I didn’t realize she was working with an easily spooked horse, and I slammed the truck door,” Wes explains.
“And after saving me from getting trampled and the brownies, I do believe you said I owe you one. I hate being indebted to people.”
“Oh, so you want me to come helpyoutrain a horse because you oweme?”
I huff out an annoyed breath. Did he always have to be this difficult?
“Pops told me he strong-armed you into staying on the ranch for the next seven weeks. And I remember how much you used to love the horses when you came out here for the summers. I thought you’d like being able to spend some time with them in the training arena.”
