Page 8 of Training the Heart

“I can help Ivy in any way you want, boss,” Haden pipes up, ping-ponging between my face and Ivy’s. “I can accompany her for any training exercises with the yearling, take on more chores here, whatever you guys need. I could even go to Nashville, Ivy could come too … if you’re too busy and you want her feedback?”

Ivy eyes him hopefully, then looks back to me. “It’s a solution if you’re worried,” she offers.

Like fuck it is.Haden’s been looking at her like she’s dessert since she stepped onto this ranch, and although he’s a good cowboy, the best I’ve got maybe, he’s a proverbial manwhore. He’s been with more Laurel Creek buckle bunnies than anyone in town, even Cole. And for that reason, the idea of him spending copious amounts of alone time with Ivy feels like a great bigfuck noto me.

I clear my throat, an impulsive decision creeping in.

“No, I’ve already decided. Haden, I’ll just need you to takeon more responsibility for us to do this. To fill in for me when needed, be my eyes and ears here on the ranch as we go through the motions.”

What am I doing?

I pull my cowboy hat off and run a hand through my hair as they both stare at me expectantly.

“I’ve already booked the hotel for us in Nashville,” I lie. “We’ll go look and see what we think.”

“We?” Ivy asks, her eyebrows raised in anticipation. I look down at her and nod.

“Yes, you’re our trainer right now and for the foreseeable future, so you’ll come and have a say,” I say lamely.

Ivy squeals and launches her pint-sized frame into mine, taking me by total surprise as she molds under the crook of my arm and locks her hands behind my waist.

“Fuck yes, Chief. I won’t let you down. I’ll train the shit out of that horse for you, he’ll be racing like the wind by the spring,” she says excitedly into my ear. Her voice is soft and husky. It’s a recognizable voice that makes the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up, especially when she’s this close to me, and you can tell she’s not trying to make it sound sexy. It justis. Her hands on my back, her soft warm body pressed up against mine, coupled with that voice makes for the exact moment that my cock decides to wake up and see what’s good.

Settle down, big fella, this is not your cue.

I detach her hands and step back. “Alright. Well, there’s lots to sort out so I’ll be in the office when you’re wrapped up here. Come find me and we’ll start planning.”

She nods, the look on her face an apology for hugging me. “Sounds good,” she says, back to professional.

Haden chuckles from his stall, and I have the sudden urge to cuff him upside the head, as I turn to walk into the silos office.

Time to look for some goddamn hotel rooms.

CHAPTER THREE

Ivy

I’ve never put much faith in people. It’s not that I don’t like people, I do. I just find it easier not to get too close to most of them, keep them at a distance. It’s much easier for me to relate to animals, especially the horses I work with. People are fickle and will almost always let you down or leave, given the chance. Especially men. In my experience, most men are easy to read. The ones I’ve met or worked with over the years are one of two things: they’re either afraid of me or doing their best to try to fuck me, both figuratively and literally. Most men don’t take me seriously and they almost always think they know better than me. The equestrian world is full of these types of men, so I’m no stranger to getting a read on a man and learning where I stand with them real quick.

Until I met Wade Ashby. Wade is certainly not afraid of me, nor does he look at me like he wants to fuck me. Wade Ashby might be the only man I’ve ever met that is wearing a sort of scowl twenty-four-seven, but oddly enough, despite that, working with him comes easier than with any other man I’ve ever worked with, because Wade is something else entirely.

Strong, professional, smart as hell, respectful, and so fucking in control all the time it makes me wonder if there’s ever a timeor circumstance where he loses that control even for a minute. At first glance he appeared unassuming and kind of mysterious, like a sexy Henry Cavill—if Henry was 6′5″, played the part of a horse rancher and wore a constant grimace.

Then he opened his mouth, and I learned pretty quickly that Wade Ashby was not going to be the ‘get to know you better’ type. I’ve been struggling to keep up with his two moods—grumpy and really fucking grumpy—since I arrived. How furrowed his brow is over those deep green eyes that stare through my soul when he looks at me tells me every morning what kind of day I’m in for. One thing is certain, they’re almost always staring at me with a look of disapproval, because Wade is very set in his ways and likes to remind me every chance he gets that my more modern way of training isn’t his style.

Since I’ve recently made a promise to myself not to let anyone fuck with me or my emotions ever again, I give his attitude right back to him most of the time, which oddly enough he seems to appreciate. Most days, Wade’s mood is very predictable. But today? Today is the first day he really threw me for a loop and surprised me.

I don’t know why Wade decided to firmly commit to finding Silver Pines a new racehorse, but I don’t care either. I’m running with it. Twenty-nine years old and training a potential derby horse? Hells yes. It’s a far cry from the Winding Eagles trailer park I left behind in Jellico, and it’s my shot to make a real name for myself as a trainer.

I’ve been hoping since the day he hired me that my boss had a sense of adventure under that gruff exterior somewhere, but I wasn’t holding out for it. Until now of course, because now he’s taking me horse shopping in less than two weeks. I’m so excited I could scream it from the rooftops.

I continue my work with my newest horse buddy, Nutmeg, getting on the thinking side of his brain. I met this horse my firstday here. He’s come a long way and is Wade’s seven-year-old niece Mabel’s favorite riding horse. Which makes sense.

My father was a horse vet and he always thought that horses—all animals, really—have kindred spirits, and so far, Nutmeg seems a lot like Mabel, rambunctious and needing a lot of play time. I give him his wind down exercises as I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I ignore it for a few minutes as I work, then I turn Nutmeg loose into the pen and pull my phone out.

CECE

Thank you so much for playing guitar for us last night. I hope you had fun.

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