The taller one nodded at Tex. “Morning, brother.” He glanced at me politely before turning back to Tex.
“Everything stayed quiet after the fire,” he said. “We kept watch all night.”
Tex folded his arms. “You see anything at all? Anyone?”
Both prospects shook their heads.
“Nothing,” the other one said. “Just smoke and pissed-off horses.”
Tex studied them for a moment before nodding. “Good. You two can head back to the clubhouse now. Check in with JD and then get some shuteye. He’s sending men to guard the access road, but I’ll likely see you both later tonight.”
They hung around for a few more minutes before heading back toward their bikes.
Once they were gone, Tex turned back to me. “You okay?”
I was brushing Daisy’s mane slowly. “I will be.”
He stepped into the stall beside me and grabbed a bucket. “Show me where the feed is.”
I blinked at him. “You’re helping?”
He smirked. “Didn’t grow up in the country, sweetheart, but I can handle a horse well enough.”
I pointed toward the feed room. “Well, let’s see if that’s true, cowboy.”
For the next hour we worked side by side. I showed him how much grain each horse needed, and he carried the buckets like they weighed nothing. The horses settled as we moved through the barn, their nervous energy fading as routine took over.
At one point Tex reached up to scratch the nose of the big chestnut gelding in the last stall. The horse snorted and tried to nibble his sleeve.
Tex jerked his arm back. “Hey now, darlin’, easy.”
“Watch him, he’ll chew on your hair if you get too close.”
Tex eyed the horse suspiciously. “He?”
I pointed between the horse’s legs. “If that thing is anything to go by.”
Tex looked down and his eyes widened. “Jesus.”
I laughed even louder. “You know that saying ‘hung like a horse.’” I winked at him and I was pretty sure his cheeks turned pink beneath his thick beard. “I think he likes you.”
“Pretty sure he’s plotting something,” Tex grumbled.
The sound of my own laughter surprised me. After everything that had happened, I hadn’t expected to feel anything close to normal again. But standing there in the barn with the morning sun pouring through the slats and Tex beside me, it almost felt like the old days. Almost.
Later that evening, the ranch quieted down.
Tex had told me he was staying the night. When I’d tried to protest he’d scowled so hard I rolled my eyes and relented, not wanting him to have an aneurism. I didn’t put up much of a fight because, if truth be known, I was glad he was staying—though I’d never admit that to him. After everything I had learned this past couple of days about my mom and dad, and the cartel, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be on my own.
The sky outside was turning soft pink and gold as I stood in the kitchen, seasoning two thick steaks on a plate.
“There’s beer in the fridge,” I said, and he walked over and opened the door, pulling out two bottles. He popped the caps and placed one in front of me.
Tex leaned against the counter behind me, watching. “You cook like this every night?”
“Most nights.” I turned them over, massaging the oil and seasoning into the other side. “After a long day out on the ranch a good meal is in order, don’t you think?
“You might just ruin me, sweetheart.”
