Page 106 of Cruelest Contract
Miguel adjusts his mocha-colored cowboy hat. “You’re the lady of the house,” he says. “You couldn’t possibly be in anyone’s way. If you ever need anything, just ask.”
Luna gazes at me with patient affection. I rub my hand over her neck again and she leans into my touch. I’ve rediscovered the charming ego boost of being liked and trusted by an animal. Louisa remains skittish but Luna always greets me as if we are the oldest and best of friends. Since Julian left eight days ago, I’ve gotten into the habit of visiting her twice a day.
“I can saddle her up,” Miguel suggests. “I’ll take you on a slow walk around the corral myself.”
Immediately, I shake my head. “No thank you.”
As much as I love spending time with Luna, the thought of climbing into the saddle still makes me shudder.
Miguel’s weatherbeaten face is filled with kindness. “Say the word if you change your mind.”
I feed Luna the last apple slice in my pocket. “How long have you been here at the ranch, Miguel?”
“Twenty years this summer,” he says proudly. “I was born and raised just outside El Paso. But my stepfather was a mean son of a bitch so I left the minute it was legal. I spent a couple years at some of the big ranches in Texas and then decided I wanted to see what the world looked like up north. Wound up here and broke my back near the end of the season. Cass kept me on while I was recuperating and by the next summer this place felt like home so I stayed.”
“How did you break your back?”
“Got thrown off by Omerta’s daddy,” he says with a laugh.
I glance toward the stall where the giant black stallion belonging to Cass Tempesta is usually kept. It’s empty right now.
“Were you afraid to ride again after that?” I ask.
He pulls at his mustache while mulling this over. “Maybe for a hot minute. But I still climbed back into the saddle the minute I was cleared by the doc. I might have been afraid that if I didn’t then I never would.”
He’s being honest. But I also have no doubt he’s aware of my backstory and he’s trying to send a message.
“Your husband was just a kid when I met him,” Miguel says. “Hadn’t even hit his teens. I remember thinking that I’d never seen a boy that age who was such a natural leader.”
I have a flashback to the first time I ever saw Julian. Only four years separated us but it felt like an entire generation. He was younger than Matthias and yet there was a solemn maturity about him that my older brother never had.
Thinking of Julian always unleashes a torrent of emotions. On the surface, he’s a model husband. He calls every day. He reassures me and says all the right things. He sends me flowers. He arranges for a freaking pool to be installed as a surprise simply because I once mentioned that I enjoyed swimming.
Maybe it’s just the distance between us that’s planting doubts in my mind. The days we spent together were too short. I’m embarrassed by how much I miss him. Every night when I fall asleep in his bed I make a wish to wake up with his arms around me. But every day since I kissed him goodbye I’ve awakened to find that I’m still alone.
The beat of pounding hooves shakes me out of my brooding. I don’t tense up at the sound the way I did when I first got here. Being on the ranch has forced me to feel comfortable around horses again, even if I’m still unwilling to ride one.
Miguel signals to the youngest staff member, a boy named Caleb who looks barely old enough to shave. Caleb takes a breakfrom mucking out the stalls and trots outside. When he returns, he’s leading a saddled Omerta.
Getty follows, looking all sweaty and wild after his ride. He stops short at the sight of me and rips his gloves off. “What the hell are you doing out here?”
“Visiting my horse,” I fire back with just as much attitude. “Although I think that should be obvious to anyone with eyes.”
He sticks his gloves in his back pocket and glowers. “Where’s Tye? Why isn’t he with you?”
“I don’t keep tabs on your brother. As far as I know, he’s behind closed doors with your dad. You should join them instead of sharing your sparkling disposition with me.”
He stares and then snorts out a dark chuckle. Sometimes there’s no telling whether he’s furious or amused.
“Follow me,” Getty says and turns his back. “We’re going for a fucking walk.”
“Thanks for that warm invitation but I’ll pass.”
Slowly, he turns around. He releases a sigh of resignation. “I need to show you something, Cecilia.”
I cross my arms and remain planted in the same spot. Miguel tries to stifle his laughter and fails.
Getty rolls his eyes. Mutters a few curses. “Please,” he finally says, dragging out the word as if the taste of it might kill him.
