Page 38 of Spur of the Moment
“So, why do you do it?” And there she went, her thoughts coming out in full force.
He turned back to the horse, his posture softening as sadness crept into his voice. “Got to pay the bills somehow.”
“Can’t work a different job, like everyone else?”
I pursed my lips at her bold question.
Austin kicked at the dirt. “You’re right. I could. But then these horses would end up in the same situation, but with a monster who doesn’t care about them. At least I feed ‘em, water ‘em, give them a little bit of peace before they head off.”
As much as I hated the reality of this, he had a point.
“Well, we can load him up if you’re ready,” I said before Lettie could ask any more questions.
Austin nodded, reaching for the halter on the gate.
“I’ll open the trailer,” Lettie mumbled before turning on her boot and stalking off.
Once out of ear shot, I said, “Sorry about her. She’s a little sensitive about all this.”
Austin unlatched the gate and stepped inside the pen. “No biggie. Everyone is. I don’t blame her. Seems like she’s got a big heart.”
On instinct, I reached up to tilt my hat down, but stopped myself, remembering what Lettie said at the bar. I turned to see her swinging the door to the trailer open without a glance in our direction. “She’s somethin’ alright.”
Austin led the horse past me, heading in the direction of the trailer. Though retired, the horse’s muscles still rippled with each step, his bulky frame evidence to the years of hard work he put in. He loaded him in the trailer with no problem, the horse clearly having done it a million times.
“Travis has my number. If you guys ever see any come through here that you’d like, just let me know. I’ll hold ‘em for you.”
He stepped out of the trailer and Lettie swung the door, latching it shut.
“Thanks, Austin. We appreciate it," I said.
He tipped his chin. “‘Course. You two make it home safe.”
“Will do,” I replied.
Lettie was silent as she got in the truck. I double checked the door to the trailer and the hookup on the hitch to make sure everything was secure. Satisfied, I got in the truck to find Lettie watching Austin walk back to his double-wide.
She may have been babied her whole life, but Lettie sure held her own, regardless of the situation. She was soft on the outside, fucking beautiful, but that mind of hers was harder than steel, never afraid to voice its thoughts. I guess that could take people off guard and make them uncomfortable, but not me. My Lettie was a force to be reckoned with, and I was damn proud that she never let anyone dim that side of her.
She was a little firecracker, and I was bound to get blown away, but for some damn reason, I wanted to play with fire. It was time to show her just how much she lit up my world.
21
Lettie
After dinner, we checked on Bucky in the trailer, feeding him a few flakes of hay and making sure he had a bucket full of clean water before heading to our room. Beckham had called to check in on how the pickup went, and that’s when we learned the horse's nickname.
A typical bay, his coat was a rich, dark brown with black accents on his legs, ears, mane, and tail. He had a little white star between his eyes that oddly looked like the shape of Texas.
Our room was drastically smaller than the last one, putting emphasis on just how close Bailey and I would be in that bed tonight. We’d gone camping so many times over the years that we were no strangers to sleeping close to each other, but we were never alone. My brothers were always there, acting their usual obnoxious selves and pulling pranks. One year, Brandyand I woke up with our tent in a damn tree. We’d stolen some of my parents' liquor to take on that trip. It was our first time getting drunk as teens, so we slept right through them moving our sleeping bags and tent. We’d get them back for that one day, I’d make sure of it.
Bailey was in the shower as I changed, opting for my oversized t-shirt and shorts again. I laid them out on the bed, stripping my clothes from the day. I pulled on my shirt when Rouge shot off the bed, his paw snagging on the hole of my shorts, unintentionally taking them with him.
“Rouge!” I chased after him, my heart picking up speed as I heard the water in the bathroom shut off.
“Rouge,” I hissed at my dog. Thinking it was a game, he spun, chasing his non-existent tail, my shorts hanging on for the ride. Australian Shepherds typically had docked tails, but that never stopped Rouge from trying to reach the little nub. I bent over, grabbing at his fur to try to get him to stay still so I could unhook my shorts from his back leg.
As I got a hold of him, the bathroom door opened behind me. Rouge and I both froze, knowing who stood there.
