Page 13 of Property of Rio

“Pokey did, babe,” he clarifies. “The vet says she’s perfectly fine, and Pancho will make sure to give her a bit extra in her feed to make up for the meals she missed.”

“Does that mean you have the truck too?” I question as he turns me around so we’re heading back to the big house.

“Nope,” he says. “We reported it as stolen, because it was, and also called the insurance company to file a claim. Hopefully, it turns up, but I’m not holding out much hope.” Unfortunately, it’ll probably be in parts and only good for the scrapyard by the time it’s located. That’s what usually happens when a criminal organization steals another person's property.

“I’m sorry, Rafe,” I quietly say in apology. “If I hadn’t gone to that event, it wouldn’t have happened. None of it.” Nothing like this has ever happened before, I’ve always felt safe and part of the family whenever I’m competing with Stargazer or showing Starlight.

“Not accepting an apology from you that you didn’t need to make, sweetheart. You aren’t responsible for others. You should be able to go to the events on the circuit without any fear or worry that something like this would happen.”

Relief courses through me. I knew he probably felt that way, but it still feels good to hear it from his mouth. Although, I’m not sure about going to other events if he’s not by my side. My trust in humanity has been obliterated. I mean, I trusted Gage and look what happened! Still, Rafe runs a motorcycle club and I know he’s too busy to run the circuit with me, so maybe it’s time for me to consider retiring and hanging up Stargazer’s harness. Let a new generation take their turn at winning medals and awards. A shaft of pain pierces my heart at the thought of giving it all up. It would suck letting go of my dreams considering I still have quite a few good years left as a barrel racer. My mind goes down the path that reminds me of my lifelong plans. After a time, a few years from now, I had the thought that after retirement I was going to focus on doing dressage events if I still wanted to be involved in the rodeo life.

“Fine, Rafe. I mean, I understand what you’re saying if that makes sense. Are you hungry? We have leftovers from last night I can reheat since I think Constance has gone to the grocery store and then Costco to restock the pantries.”

“That sounds good to me, Issy. Race ya,” he calls off before taking off in a dead run toward the back door that’ll let us into the kitchen.

“Jerk!” I reply, running after him. “That’s cheating!” There’s no way I’ll catch him since my legs are stumps compared to his and he had a head start, of course. He’s a lot taller than I am and has the long leg reach to prove it. Still, I’m no quitter so I give it my best, and by the time I reach him, where he’s waiting with the screen door open, I’m laughing while holding my sides since they have a stitch in them. Usually, it’s Stargazer that does the racing, not me.

“Shit, Issy, I fucking forgot about your ribs,” he rumbles out, a pained look on his face.

“Don’t you dare take away the most fun I’ve had in a few weeks,” I chastise. “They hurt a little less every day, I promise.”

He won’t let me heat up the leftovers, so after I wash my hands, I get us both something to drink and sit at the small breakfast nook. While I wait, I decide I need to bring up another topic I’ve been dreading.

“Rafe?”

“Hmm?” he asks as he switches plates in the microwave.

“I think it’s time I went back home and give you your space back,” I say.

“No.” Why does his response not surprise me? Sometimes, he’s a man of few words but it also infuriates me when there’s no discussion to be had. His word is law and nothing I have to say can dissuade him when his mind is made up. But damn, I need the space so I don’t get any ideas or wonder about what could be with him so close. I don’t want to blur the lines of friendship, andwith the fact that I’ve been fantasizing about him a lot lately, I know that my imagination is going to run wild, and I don’t want to act on my fantasies.

“What do you mean, no?” I ask. “Why not?”

An unknown entity paid the back taxes on my farm and then reached out to me to ask if I wanted to continue living there. When I advised that it was the only home I knew, a rental agreement was sent to me, and I’ve been there ever since. I suspect Rafe is involved somehow, but I’ve never had the guts to confront it head on and ask. I know when Paps found out that my father hadn’t been paying the taxes, he had threatened to pull his patch, but considering the fact that my relationship with that man was far less than I had with Paps, I figure he didn’t really give a shit. It’s not like he lived there with me. No, he lived at the clubhouse once I was old enough to fend for myself and be trusted on my own. Even before that, I spent a lot of my time alone, which is why I started hanging out at the ranch.

Of course, that started my love affair with the horses, and they’ve been a blessing in so many ways, I don’t really complain. Paps gave me Starlight after she was born, which shocked me to death, because she comes from championship stock, and he could’ve made a killing with her. Then, he allowed me to breed her with another of his champion studs which gave me Stargazer. Even though she didn’t have a foal before she had my second favorite girl, I was beside myself when she finally carried to term. I’ve never paid a dime for any of my girls’ vetting or food, but I take care of them, even though Pancho and Luis oversee the horses.

“Because there’s still the possibility that you’re in danger, Issy,” he states, bringing both plates over to the table then sitting down once he places mine in front of me.

“I think you need to switch the plates,” I tease, looking down at my humongous portion. “There’s no way I can eat all of this.”

“Sorry,” he replies, switching plates. “But I think you could eat it all, just saying. I’ve been around you all my life and know you have the ability to eat like a ranch hand.”

“Rafe!” I exclaim. What is it with him and his rude commentary today? Somebody is getting too big for his britches.

“Issy, I’m glad you aren’t afraid to eat, babe. Too many people, mostly women, worry far too much about putting food in their body that they need to fuel them.”

“Back to me still being in danger. What makes you think that? It may have been a fluke. A wrong place, wrong time type of thing. Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” I question, my fork poised above my plate.

“We don’t know why you were targeted, and I’m not being dramatic,” he replies. “Until we figure that out, I don’t want you by yourself, babe.”

“But I’m cramping your style, Rafe,” I softly murmur.

“How long have you known me, Issy?” he asks.

“Most of my life, why?” I retort.

“Have you ever known me to keep quiet if I wanted something? In fact, I think it was you who haphazardly mentioned a few years ago that I was abrupt and brusque at times, if memory serves.”

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