Page 1 of Careless Hope

1

Walker

The ground cameup to greet me like an old friend with a rough handshake. It’s funny how time seems to slow during split-second mishaps. One moment I was leading Zeus into a canter. The next, I was flying through the air, bucked off the stallion’s back.

And now that I was in slow motion, I had time to think about stuff. I’d thought about the last time I’d been thrown from a horse—almost a damn year ago, thank you very much. I’d thought of how I didn’t want to be doing this—breaking horses, training horses—much longer. Or at least notonlythis. Thought about how I was stuck in this role, desperate for my older brother’s approval but determined to make him see the value in my ideas.

And I’d thought that Zeus was a damn asshole. Even though I loved him.

And after all of that, which was a hell of a lot of thinkin’ for a guy like me, I’d thought about how the hell all those thoughts entered my head while I was in the air. Time had to have slowed down. That was the only explanation.

But then, reality struck.

I crashed to the ground with a thud that would surely leave my whole ass bruised. Dust swirled before my eyes, and if the Earth had a way of laughing, I reckon it would’ve sounded a lot like my great uncle Harry’s tobacco-infused gravelly chuckle. I took a minute to just lay there, sprawled out with the sky above painted a relentless blue, wondering if every cowboy’s rite of passage was to taste the grit of their own land.

“Shoot, Walker, you alright?” Mason’s voice cut through the quiet aftermath of my impromptu dismount. His shadow fell over me, offering a momentary reprieve from the sun’s interrogation.

“Never better,” I grunted, pushing myself into a sitting position. “Just taking a quick inventory of the dirt quality. It’s top-notch this season.”

Mason extended a hand, rough and steadfast like weathered oak, pulling me to my feet with a firm yank. “Zeus really doin’ a number on you, huh?”

“Ah, he’s just spirited,” I said, brushing off my jeans and adjusting my hat. The stallion in question snorted from a safe distance, tossing his mane like he’d won some grand victory. “Ain’t nothing a bit of patience and understanding can’t fix.”

“Patience, huh?” Mason raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. He knew the silent language that passed between a man and a beast, the unspoken agreement to figure each other out or part ways trying.

I took a slow breath and turned to face Zeus. He was power wrapped in dark hide, muscles rippling beneath his coat like storm clouds rolling across the prairie. Our gazes locked—a challenge issued and accepted without a word. He was done for the day.

“Let’s get him back to the stables,” I suggested, and wemoved towards the towering presence of Zeus, our boots thudding softly against the well-trodden earth.

“He’s a handful, but’ll give us some good foals.”

“Sure will,” I said, patting his flank before grabbing the reins.

“You worked on that business plan like I told you?” Mason asked, not making eye contact. We had an unspoken agreement. He was helping me with my idea to expand the ranch operations, but he didn’t want my brother Gray to know about it.

When our dad died, the ranch was left to the both of us, but as the oldest son, Gray took over the leadership. And I was just fine with that. I didn’t want to be in charge of the whole operation, and I’d surely fuck it up. Our friend Mason, who’d grown up with us and was a second-generation rancher at Red Downs, was made the ranch manager, who handled the finances and other boring shit I had no interest in.

They were both great at their jobs. And I didn’t want to be them. But I felt stuck in a rut of having nothing of my own to work on. Nothing to take ownership of, to make something grow from nothing. I was part owner of the biggest ranch in the area and I had no more responsibility than the part time ranch hands we hired from the local high school during the summer.

Which was what I’d wanted years ago.

Waking up, working the horses and land, and then leaving it all behind at the end of the day was just fine with me. Limited responsibility and plenty of time to do whatever I wanted, which was usually drinking and hooking up with as many girls as I could.

I shook my head as I thought how time surely does change things. Gray’d been on my case for years about not working hard enough, not living up to my potential, not giving a fuck about anything. And I hated to admit he’d had a point. But things were different now and he was reluctant to believeit.

“Well?” Mason asked, bringing me back to the present.

“I’m workin’ on it. You know I’m not the best with all the financial shit.”

“I told you, I’d look over it and help.”

“I know. I think it’s comin’ along though.” That was a bald-face lie. I hadn’t written a damn word. Not for lack of trying. I’d sat with my laptop staring at the business plan template Mason had emailed me and tried for hours. And then again, the next day. And then the next week. And I still had fuck all. “I’ll send it over to you next week.” Please, God, send me a miracle.

Mason turned his head to finally look at me and nodded, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. “Good.”

“I told you, I’m determined.”

“I know you are. You’ve been wanting this for a long time. Gray’ll come ‘round.”

---