Page 24 of Brim Over Boot
“What can I do for you?”
There’s a brief pause before Marie Doherty says, “I’ve got fifteen new horses coming to stay with me soon. Can you take them on?”
This time, it’s me pausing. “You don’t want Colton to handle them?”
“His schedule is full. He recommended you.”
I nearly bark a laugh entirely devoid of humor. What in the hell is he up to?
“I can take ’em,” I tell her, not about to pass up the chance, even if I don’t trust Colton Darling one fucking bit.
“Good,” Marie says simply. “They’ll be here in twelve days. Can you be here in thirteen?”
“I sure can. I’ll see you then.”
With a quick goodbye, Marie ends the call, and I stand there, wondering what the fuck Colton is playing at. There’s no way the man I know wouldn’t have moved heaven and earth to fit those horses into his schedule if for no other reason than to keep me from getting the business. So what is this? What’s the goddamn catch?
I store my rake and head inside, done with yard work for the day. My uncle is seated in the back room now, his reading glasses on and a book in his hand.
“I’m here if you wanna talk,” he says.
My upper body deflates with my breath. “Love you, Walt.”
“You, too, kiddo.”
I continue on my way, hopping in the shower once upstairs and scrubbing the dirt off my hands and forearms. I use a brush to get underneath my fingernails, the same one I use each and every day after shoeing horses.
No one ever said farriery was tidy work.
By the time I’m done, I’ve made up my mind.
I need to pay Colton Darling a visit.
TheDarlingRanchisa sprawling property not that far south of where I live. I wait until the evening is well underway to drive over, knowing I’ll have a better chance of catching Colton after work hours, even on the weekend.
The place isn’t busy when I pull up. I’m guessing most of the ranch hands are gone by five. The lights in the house are on, as well as in the two small cottage-style homes I’m fairly certain belong to Colton’s parents.
I don’t know if the sound of my bike alerted Colton to my presence, but he comes out the front door before I’ve even set both feet on the ground.
“What are you doing here?” he calls, storming over with his jeans crumpled up around the tops of his boots like he shoved the footwear on hastily.
“Needa talk with you,” I answer, setting my helmet on my bike seat.
After a couple seconds of staring as if he’s calculating whether or not I’m serious, Colton waves me toward the side of the house. Away from prying eyes maybe?
I follow him off the gravel and onto grass, my heart thumping viciously now that I’m here.
“Talk,” Colton says, spinning toward me and crossing his arms.
“Fuck,” I mutter, already feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “Do you have to be so…”
I wave a hand his way, not even knowing how to finish my sentence.
So infuriating?
So frustrating?
So goddamn annoying I want to level something? Preferably him?
