His tail wags, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.
Elena turns pleading eyes to me.
“He isn’t a working dog,” I explain.
“But he wants to come.” Her eyes take on this big, pleading look, and she dips her chin, looking at me somewhat from beneath her lashes. “Let him come.”
I open my mouth to refuse, but she cranks that look up tenfold, the plea so innocent and genuine that the refusal dies on my tongue.
“Fine,” I grumble.
She lets out an excited yelp. “You hear that?” She squeals down to the dog, “You get to come.”
Judge releases a bark, hopping to the side as he reacts to her excitement.
How am I meant to be irritated by that?
Leaving them to it, I let out a whistle letting the guys know we’re ready to set off and in a matter of minutes we fall into a routine that feels as easy as breathing, and then Elena falls into step beside me, following my command with Judge following her.
She turns her face to me, revealing a smile I’ve never seen from her before. It isn’t flirty; it isn’t calculated. It’s elated.
The sun beats down on the back of my neck, sweat beads and rolls down the collar of my shirt.We’ve covered about eight miles of uphill, the horses are tired, we’re tired and the cattle need a break, so I whistle to call it. It’s only just past one p.m., and our goal is to have them in the pasture by eight p.m. so we can get some miles back down to our camping spot before the light of day disappears. We’re ahead of schedule, so we can take a break.
Elena and I are at the back of the herd, Chase at the front, and we work in tandem to bring the fifty-strong herd to a stop in a meadow. The air is a little thinner, the sun a lot hotter, so it’s a reprieve to stop. There’s a freshwater river running to the side that’ll serve to rehydrate, and shade from the evergreens that grow here.
I pull Honey to a stop and dismount, Elena and Apollo following suit. Her hair sticks to her forehead beneath her hat, the white material of her shirt is somewhat see-through with her sweat. Dropping Honey’s reins for a moment since I can trust her to stay put, I offer my hands up to Elena to help her dismount.
She takes it, landing on her feet, but the moment I release her weight, she falters, as if her knees have collapsed beneath her.
“Shit,” I capture her. “What is it?”
“Need a minute,” She grasps her injured thigh, just below where the bruising begins, and squeezes, “I’ve just been sat still for too long.”
“Elena,” I scold, “I told you to tell me–”
“And I would have,” She cuts me off. “It didn’t hurt, and right now it’s not painful per se, just sore.”
I glare at her.
“I promise,” She blinks her grey eyes up to me as she massages her thigh with her fingers, “Easing already.”
“And the ribs?”
“They’re okay.”
I feel my nostrils flare as I search her face for a hint of a lie, but her eyes are open, clear so I dip my chin and pick Honey’s reins back up, “When you can walk, follow me to the river.”
“Okay.” Apollo swings his big head around, his teeth nipping at her shirt, and she lets out a light laugh as she lifts her hand to scratch the end of his muzzle. That laugh…
Fuck.
It’s melodic, soothing, a sound you search for when all hope is lost. Like a summer breeze on a hot day.
I am so fucked.
Bringing Honey to a stop at the river, I let her take her fill of water, the water bubbling over rocks that flows through the trees, a lifeline for both the wildlife and the ranchers and cowboys that trail through these mountains.
I hear Elena coming up behind me, and shestops at my side, her arm brushing mine as Apollo begins to drink. “If I could just stay right here,” She whispers, “Forget the world and live in these trees for the rest of my life, I would.”
