Page 4 of Stick Around,
“Oh, come on! Where’s your sense of adventure from college? I’m not even into dicks, and I’d be down for a tumble in the hay with a rough-around-the-edges cowboy.”
My sense of adventure had gone out the window with adult responsibilities. “Or there will be old, grumpy cowboys.”
She nudged me with her elbow as we walked toward the booth to return Sparklehoof. “Even better. A silver fox who knows how to treat a lady. At the very least, one of us—meaning you—can get over our irrational fear of horses.”
I tried to look annoyed, but the truth was, for the first time since finding out that someone I loved and trusted was cheating on me, I felt a tiny spark of excitement.
Who would’ve thought that a stick horse named Sparklehoof and a blue ribbon would put a smile on my face?
Chapter 2
Farmyard Standoff
Reid
Iwoke up with Walter sprawled across my chest like a furry paperweight, his little body rising and falling with each of my breaths. He’d fallen asleep next to me, but somehow he always ended up using me as a dog bed.
“Morning, buddy.” I scratched behind his ears, earning a sleepy tail thump against my ribs. “Time to get up.”
Walter responded by burrowing deeper against my neck, clearly voting to extend our time in bed. Hard to argue with that logic, but the ranch waited for no man or chihuahua.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, careful to cradle Walter as I stood. He gave me a look of betrayal, all big eyes and an accusatory glare that somehow made me feel guilty despite the fact that he’d get to nap again approximately fifteen minutes after breakfast.
“Don’t give me that look. It’s a privilege to sleep on the bed.” I set him on the floor, where he immediately shook himself awake and stared up at me like I’d hung the moon.
Who was I kidding? Ever since I’d adopted him from the shelter three years ago, he’d had me wrapped around his paw. I could never make him sleep on the floor or in his actual dog bed.
After changing into jeans and a T-shirt, I headed downstairs with Walter trotting at my heels.
I entered the kitchen to find Enzo plating eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes. He looked up from where he was meticulously arranging bacon strips, his face as serious as if he were defusing a bomb. “Horses are already turned out. Got up early to check the north pasture fence line.”
“Again?” I filled Walter’s bowl with kibble before pouring myself a cup of coffee. “Didn’t we fix that section last month?”
“Wild pigs.” He said it like he was naming his archnemesis. “Found tracks all along it.”
I leaned against the counter and took a long sip of coffee. “Want me to reinforce it this afternoon?”
“Already ordered materials.” He slid a plate my way, loaded with enough food to feed a small militia. “Kellan’s handling the pickup after the... event.”
The way he said “event” made it sound like we were hosting an exorcism instead of a hobby horse competition winner. I couldn’t blame him. When Kellan had first pitched the idea, I thought he was joking. There was an entire subculture that pranced around on stick horses, and apparently, we were about to welcome one of them to La Cuesta Ranch with open arms.
I took my plate to the table. “Do we have any idea if this woman has been around actual horses before?”
Enzo’s jaw clenched almost imperceptibly. “Kellan’s been emailing with her and said she was scared of them.”
I nearly choked on the bacon I’d popped in my mouth. “And she’s coming here?”
We had twenty-six horses on the property currently if you counted Eggatha, who thought she was a horse. Even if thishobby horse chick did just practice on her stick, there was no avoiding the horses.
The sound of the back door closing announced Kellan’s arrival before his voice boomed through the kitchen. “Good morning!” He swept in with white teeth and energy that had no business existing before the sun rose fully. “How are my favorite grumpy cowboys on this beautiful day?”
Walter abandoned his food bowl to dance excitedly at Kellan’s feet, his nails making the cute little tapping sound I adored. Kellan scooped him up, planting a kiss on his head before setting him back down.
“I’m not grumpy.” Enzo put a plate in Kellan’s spot at the table.
“Your scowl says otherwise.” Kellan plopped down in his seat and grabbed a piece of bacon. “Our champion arrives around noon.” He pulled out his phone, scrolling through something with obvious glee. “Wait until you see the footage from Vegas. This woman is incredible. Our social follows spiked overnight from the announcement post.”
We’d been dancing around the reality of the decrease in business over the last six months, and I couldn’t deny that increased exposure would be good. From what I knew about hobby horsing, there was a certain level of horsemanship that was needed, even if they didn’t use real horses. This was an opportunity to appeal to a broader niche.
