Page 48 of Ace of Spades
“You earned it, cowgirl.”
Chapter 16
HAILEY
It had been a week since I’d moved into the ranch, and I’d slowly had the chance to meet everyone. I hadn’t seen Weston much, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he was just busy, or if he had been avoiding me.
I’d only seen him a handful of times since the cattle drive. We had parted ways upon arrival to the ranch, after he had told the ranch hands to send our calf back to the field with the other cattle. Only after I had pestered him the entire way back down the mountain about not selling Tito with the other calves.
And yes, I had named him.
I hadn’t thought Weston would listen to me, partially due to the fact that he had spent the entire trek back lecturing me forgetting attached to the creature. Imagine the look on my face when he’d made the call not to sell the little guy.
I was still trying to adjust to the change of pace, and actually being able to use an arena once more. There was something still off with the horses, especially Casino. Ever since we broke the pattern at the rodeo in Montana, I hadn’t been able to get us back to normal.
I take a deep breath in, forcing myself to relax. Once I feel ready, I nudge Casino up to a light trot, letting her jog to the first barrel as cool and collected as possible. I can feel her tense up beneath me, ready to bolt at any given chance. Putting more pressure on the reins, I hold her back, fighting to keep control.
Right as we turn into the barrel, my mare lunges, knocking us right into it. A bang echoes through the arena as my shin hits the hollow metal, a curse on my breath as I force her back down to a walk before bending over to rub the sore spot. I never hit barrels—like, ever—so why was it becoming a common occurrence now? Between hitting barrels and not being able to maintain control over my horse, I was both mentally exhausted and covered in bruises.
I decide to take a lap around the arena, seeing if Weston’s advice of coming back down to the basics could help. I refused to ask him for any more help, especially not after having essentially just moved in with him and his friends.
As if my thoughts had summoned him, I look up to find Weston leaning against the arena gate, his hat hanging over his eyes and a dirty white t-shirt stretching across his toned chest. Chance stands at his side, the two of them watching intently. I guess the universe must have decided that my mid-afternoonpractice wasn’t already rough enough, she just had to invite more people to come watch me embarrass myself.
“Great,” I muttered under my breath, bringing Casino to the center of the arena before dismounting and leading her by the reins, rubbing my sweaty hands over my ripped jeans. The two guys step away from the gate to let me walk through, Weston stepping up to walk alongside me.
“You’re stressed, and it’s stressing her out,” he tells me, his hands in his pockets.
“I’m stressedbecauseshe’s stressing me out,” I argue, turning to face him and readjusting my ball cap as the early summer sun hits me in the face.
“You’re tense, and she can feel it. It’s making her nervous.”
“I think I know my horse better than you,” I tell him, inwardly cringing at how rude that sounded.
“Sorry,” I breathe. “I just—I just don’t know what to do, okay?”
“Wow, Sorrels. Did you just apologize? I never thought I would see the day, this is one for the history books,” he teases, a dimple pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh, get lost,” I tell him, turning back towards the stables.
“Oh, come on. You see, this is exactly what I’m talking about—you need to relax a bit, unwind. You’re wound up so tightly it’s no wonder your horses are acting weird, they’re trying to figure out what’s going on with you.”
“I don’t need to relax, I need to practice.”
“Suit yourself, then.”
He turns to walk away and I take another step towards the barn before stopping once more, a war raging in my head before I finally relent.
“Weston?” I call after him. He stops and turns to look at me expectantly, an eyebrow lifting.
“Let’s say I were to listen to you. How would I go about it? Relaxing, I mean?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” he says, looking overly satisfied with himself. “You’re in luck, I finished early today. Wait right here, let me go grab Lark and I’ll be right back.”
He reappears a few minutes later with his black mare, a saddle under one arm as he leads her with the other.
“Hold this for a second,” he tells me, handing me Lark’s reins as he steps around her and throws the saddle over her back, fastening it as the two horses rub noses.
He grabs the reins back from me and I continue walking, turning Casino around and heading for the direction of the arena.
