Page 5 of Spur of the Moment
“Replacing rotting wood isn’t a purpose, Dad. It’s a chore.”
He folded his arms across his chest, his graying mustache doing little to hide the frown on his face. “It’s a ranch, Lettie. Those are the things that need to get done.”
“I can get it done, but not with him. Let me help with the rescue.”
“Not happening.”
I wasn’t going to back down from this battle. I was capable of taking on more with the rescue, I just wished he’d see it. “Those horses need to be cared for, too. I’ve always been good with them.”
“I’m well aware.” My dad hated dealing with difficult subjects like this. He wished everyone would get along and stick to their tasks. I was the rebel child when it came to that, always pushing back. That’s why my mom and I got along so well. She was the same way when she was growing up.
I took a steadying breath. “I’m not fragile.”
He simply gave me a look, his eyes telling me what he didn’t need to voice. He thought I couldn’t handle the unruly horses or the stress of the rescue.
I threw my hands out, my attempt at getting a grip on my emotions failing once again. “I’m not some little girl anymore, Dad. Eventually you’re going to have to realize that I’ve grown up and can handle more than just replacing old beams on a dilapidated barn.”
He regarded me from where he sat, his posture making it clear he wanted to be done with this conversation. “They’re rescues, Lettie. They can be unpredictable. What if you get hurt?”
“What if Brandy gets hurt, or Reed? They’re around them every day.”
“It’s different,” he clipped.
I pulled my hand through my hair, shoving the caramel-colored strands out of my face. It wasn’t the smartest idea to be around untouched horses when you had the risk of minor dizzy spells, but if moving away taught me anything, it was that I was tired of living my life on the safe side. “Just give me something. Some kind of responsibility that doesn’t make me feel incapable. Reed doesn’t trust me on the ladder, and I willnotlet Bailey supervise me like I’m some sort of child.”
“You sure about that?” I jumped at Bailey’s voice behind me, twisting around only to come face to face with him. Well, more like my face to his chest.
I tilted my head up and narrowed my eyes at him as he stood there, filling the small entryway. “Am I sure I’m not a child? Yes.”
He chewed on the straw sticking out of his mouth, the stubble on his jaw moving with the act. He tossed his head back and forth like he was contemplating what I said. I tried not to stare at the way his lips moved around the single piece of hay.
Stop it, Lettie. Get a grip on yourself.
“Mm, I think even children have enough sense to communicate their whereabouts to others,” he said.
My mouth popped open. Was he seriously going to bring that up right now? This just added to my case that I wouldn’t accept his help in any capacity. Not when he just made it clear that he hadn’t let go of the past.
Ignoring his passive-aggressive comment, I turned back to my dad, who had resumed reading the newspaper as if we weren’t standing here. “Please. I’m begging.”
“I do have one errand you could do for me,” he said before laying the newspaper back on the table.
For a man who ran a ranch and a horse rescue, he sure had a lot of time to read the newspaper. He always told us to have a healthy work-life balance, but you wouldn’t catch me reading the newspaper in my free time. I’d rather ride Red or get lost in a romantic suspense novel.
“Anything.”
He looked behind me to where Bailey still stood before drifting his eyes back to me. I felt his presence at my back, the smell of dirt and sweet grass enveloping my senses like a fog. Not many people liked the smell of cowboy, but Bailey wore it like expensive cologne. The scent was almost intoxicating.
Reason number one hundred as to why I didn’t want to be around him.
I couldn’t cross that line with him, and if I had to be around that addicting smell and see his stupid handsome face every day, I didn’t know how long that line could hold me back.
“There’s an auction in Billings coming up. Heard they have a few neglect cases coming through. I can’t make it due to chores here on the ranch, but I’d be willing to let you go in my place on one condition,” my dad said.
“What’s that?”
He paused, intertwining his fingers on the table. “You bring someone with you to drive the trailer and load the horses.”
A smile crept up the corners of my mouth. My choice was obvious. “Brandy can come.”
