Out of the corner of my eye, I see the shadow of my mom walking past my room. She doesn’t stop to say hi, or give me a hug, or anything. She wears her disappointment in me proudly.
“Hi Mom,” I mumble before closing my door to change.
My mom’s a dead woman walking. Depressed, she married a man who loved the ranch more than her. Depressed, she had me.
What she failed to realize is that she could have found love from me. Both of my parents could have, but never did.
Even with the confusing mess my life is now, a woman with a degree she has no idea what to do with, coming back home with a chip on her shoulder, I know one thing.
One thing that I am absolutely sure about and that’s that I never want to be in a one-sided marriage.
The white noise of the ceiling fan is all I’m greeted with now that dad is gone, and I wonder why the hell I even came back.
What the hell did I have here at Winehouse Ranch?
Oh wait. I remember.
Tight jeans and an even tighter tank top later, I stumble out of my room in boots and a hat, ready to see my baby.
Midnight.
I loved my black Friesian horse more than anything, and what better time to devote to her than when I’m between jobs?
I stumble to the barn, giddy over the thought of seeing my horse, when I freeze just outside the door.
“You heard the princess is back?”
“I heard her stripper heels from here.”
“How long do you think she’ll stay?”
“Long enough to get her horse and her dad to get used to her being here just for her to run off at the first sign of work. Damn princess.”
Talking shit isn’t new on the ranch, or in the history of any damn ranch, especially for the ranch handler’s daughters.
But it doesn’t take away the sting in my cheeks or strain my throat.
“Hello boys and gals,” I say, striding into the barn with my overwhelming crowd of 3 whole fans. My boots clack as I walk straight to my purpose. My baby. Midnight.
I have had her since I was a teenager. The first and only time I ever got into ranch work was taking care of this horse.
Midnight is a black beauty, with piercing brown eyes to match. She’s confident and kind and, ugh, I love her so much. The moment she sees me, her ears relax, and I swear her eyes soften.
I melt inside, despite the crowd watching my every fucking move behind me.
“Miss me, baby girl?” I ask as I reach my hand out to her. She leans her big ol’ head into me, and I found happiness again.
Nothing beats an animal being happy to see you. After almost two years, I’d been fearful she’d have forgotten about me.
“Oh, she missed you alright.” A deep, heady voice infiltrates my system, and my head snaps in its direction.
As if I could forget his voice. The way my body instantly reacts even though I wish it wouldn’t. The way my knees want to buckle and my core clenches at the sound of his rasp voice.
Oliver Torres walks into the barn from the other end with a black hat and boots that have seen better days. He’s the ranch’s right-hand man. A six foot three beast of a man with deeply tanned skin and a flop of curls that work as perfect handles when the man’s on his knees.
“Was she the only one?” I say, tilting my head in his direction.
Oliver Torres and I didn’t have the best relationship. Maybe because we slept together, then he disappeared on me. Pretending it never happened the next morning.
