Page 60 of Toxic

I was suddenly glad that Butcher had stayed behind at the ranch while we’d driven into town. One thing was for sure, this threat was real. Toxic wasn’t dismissing it. He was taking it seriously, and so would I.

“Quit yankingon his reins like that,” I called out. Urging Hank forward, I pulled up alongside Butcher. “You’re making him go to the side,” I pointed out.

“Fucking animal won’t do what I want,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. The horse beneath him was snorting and dancing sideways.

“Because Baloo has more experience than you,” I said with a laugh. He glared over at me. “He wants to go off to the right to get that cow that’s straying.” I pointed over to where a cow was cutting off from the group. “You keep trying to force him to stay behind the main group.”

“Hate fucking riding these things,” Butcher barked out when the horse gave a violent jerk of his head.

“Give him some slack. He’s been driving cattle for most of his life. Let him take the lead.”

“Sure. Let the brain dead animal go where it wants to go,” Butcher growled, but he loosened his grip on the reins.

“Between the two of you Baloo isn’t the brain dead one!” Toxic shouted from somewhere behind us.

Butcher didn’t have a chance to respond because as soon as he gave the horse his head, Baloo was off like a shot. I couldn’t help but laugh at Butcher bellowing out threats as my horsechased down the rebellious cow. I wasn’t sure if the threats spewing out of Butcher were for me or my gelding, but I figured Baloo would get him set straight by the time we got to the new pasture.

My eyes scanned over men on horseback and I laughed out loud this time.

“What’s so funny?”

I glanced over as Toxic and Irene trotted up on my right. “Raggediest bunch of cowboys I’ve ever seen.”

Toxic chuckled as he watched his brothers trying to figure out how to ride the horses. Thankfully, my animals were well-trained and knew exactly what was expected of them. I always provided the horses for my crew, because then I knew I at least had one dependable being out there chasing my cows.

“That’s because they’re used to riding motorcycles, not horses,” Toxic replied. “I can’t believe you found a horse for Hellfire.”

We both looked over and my eyes softened. “That’s Moose.”

“Fitting,” Toxic said with a laugh. “I’ve been feeding him for almost two weeks, but I never took him for a cutting horse.”

“Right?” Moose was a draft cross and most cutting horses were quarter horses, but Moose had always had a fondness for cows. I often wondered if it was because he could almost be confused for one. His brown coat blended in with the red cows surrounding him as he and Hell moved in front of the herd. “Dad bought him for me on a whim. He’s earned his keep every year since. I usually have a couple of cowboys who are a bit too big for my quarter horses to haul around safely.”

We both glanced over as Lockout rode up. He was in complete control of Durotan. It didn’t surprise me. He had an air of authority that even horses seemed to listen to.

“Going alright, Prez?” Toxic asked.

“I see why you enjoy this,” Lock said with a chuckle. “There’s something addictive about sweating your ass off while commanding thousand pound animals to go where you want.”

“Speak for yourself,” Idaho, Lockout’s identical twin, said as he rode up. He winced. “How do I keep from crushing my fucking balls?”

I bit back a laugh. “You don’t.”

“What?” he asked me, looking at me as if I’d grown another head.

“You just get used to it,” Toxic told him.

A barked curse caught our attention. Smokehouse stood up in his stirrups and rearranged his crotch. I bit back a laugh. I’d worked around men on horseback for so long, I’d pretty much seen everything. Though I made sure that he didn’t catch me staring.

“Quit fucking playing with it,” Static told him, riding up from behind him. “You’re letting the cattle veer off.”

“This is so fucking uncomfortable. How are you just sitting there like that?” Smoke grumbled.

“Because while most of us are proud as fuck of our cocks, we don’t have a massive anaconda in our jeans,” Ricochet said as he moved Dilly into position to cut off the cows trying to get away from the riders.

I clapped a hand over my mouth, but the laughter escaped anyway. My eyes met Toxic’s and I raised a brow.

“He’s not fucking kidding,” Toxic said in a wry tone.

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