Page 11 of Ranch Life At Heart
Walking toward the stables, I let my mind wander back to Rosy. Fucking her was a huge mistake. Both for her sake as well as mine. Our connection has always been a balance of bordering hostility with our fathers always going head-to-head.
She doesn’t need the added hassle, which I’m sure will come when Jason tells her who I am. As for me? Having the woman in my bed for one night, getting a slight taste of her…itwon’t ever be enough. Though, I’m sure once she finds out who her one-night stand was, she’ll want nothing to do with me.
I shake my head to gain some clarity and walk to the stall of the black stallion to get him ready for a nice long ride. Breaking-in horses has been one of my main jobs for years. I enjoy the fire of an Arabian horse, and this stallion is a fierce one. He’s four and still has a pure dark black coat.
It’s one of the least common colors for an Arabian horse. Most are gray, and while some appear white, they are actually gray. This is because a white Arabian horse is quite rare. We have one, of course. My father’s obsession with the breed, along with unlimited funds, allows for a nice selection of beautiful horses to breed with.
Like I said, the part I most enjoy when it comes to working is training horses. The hard work that goes with it is appreciated as well. It gives my mind the peace I need to function correctly in this fucked-up world.
It’s been a while since I’ve been home, and while I’ve worked with horses daily, there’s a huge difference when it comes to my father’s ranch. All the horses are perfectly groomed and the black stallion I’m saddling up is shiny as fuck.
Some of the ranches I’ve worked with weren’t as high-class as my father’s. A normal routine of grooming the horse, getting the dirt out of its coat, before saddling up is satisfying. I’m not one who passes the horse off to hired help once I’m done riding either. Start to finish I want to be hands-on.
A smile tugs at my lips once I’m on the horse and the temperament shows when he trots in place, eager to ride. I take my time in the outdoor arena before I guide him toward the road. Without thinking I swing by the Lavern ranch. There are a few horses grazing in the pasture and no cars in sight.
I take the small path beside the pasture and my stallion flares its nostrils and neighs strong and long.
“He’s rather full of himself, isn’t he?” Rosy’s voice catches my ear, and I slightly turn in the saddle to look at her.
She’s sitting on an Appaloosa, white with black spots. Both are a sight to behold. The stallion underneath me seems to understand her words as he throws his head back and becomes impatient once more. He’s a bundle of dynamite and quickly turns around.
“He likes to think so,” I rumble. “Though, I think he’s trying to impress your gorgeous Appaloosa.”
Rosy lets her hand glide over her horse’s neck, her words are hushed, but I do catch them when she says, “What a pair they would make.”
“I agree, the result would be a stunning foal.”
Her eyes widen at my words.
Shaking her head and leading her horse into the direction of her ranch she says, “Your father would rather cut off the stallion’s balls than to have it breed with a grade horse.”
I can’t help but wince at the cutting off balls remark.
Following her down the driveway, I say, “You’d be surprised to what my father would agree with. I was, when I saw a miniature horse walk right into his kitchen the other day.”
Now it’s her turn to shift in the saddle to throw a look at me over her shoulder. “Your father owns a miniature horse? I thought the man couldn’t stand any other horse if it didn’t concern an Arabian pureblood.”
“Technically I think Anne owns it, ’cause it’s her horse. But from what I’ve seen the past few days since I got here? Helikes the little shit, Pete, too.” I shoot her a grin, but she doesn’t return it.
Rosy leans back in her saddle to bring her horse to a stop. “Go home, Cedar. I’m not looking for another roll in the hay, and for sure as shit don’t want to be friends. What happened in that hotel room between us is in the past. A one-time deal without a repeat.”
She tightens her legs to urge the horse to move and thinks she can leave me behind with those parting words.
No damn way. I won’t have her dismiss me so easily, or the things we did in the hotel room.
CHAPTER SEVEN
– ROSETTE –
I guide Freckles to the front of the stables and I slowly lean back to make her stop. Swinging my leg off, I lean on my belly first and in one move slide down to let my feet hit the ground.
The sound of more hooves than just Freckles catches my attention when I guide her into her stall. My eyes widen when I watch as Cedar puts his black stallion in one of the empty stalls in the back.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask while I remove Freckles’ saddle.
“Making time to talk to you,” he rumbles and mirrors my actions.
“You…you can’t leave your horse here,” I sputter.
