Page 5 of Come With Me

“Hey!” Noah shouts, rushing back in. “What in the Sam Hill are y’all doin’? We have guests here!”

You’d think this would cause a scene, but it’s a common occurrence. The twins messing around, and their little sister telling them to get their shit together.

“Quit pitchin’ a fit. All the guests checked out, and the new ones haven’t arrived yet,” Wilder tells her.

“I don’t care,” Noah snaps. “Hush your mouths and grow up.”

“You first,” he shoots back.

Noah rolls her eyes as she takes the shovel from my hand and threatens to flatten them to the concrete.

“Who licked the red off your candy?” Wilder growls.

Waylon laughs, and if they keep pushing her buttons, I’ll let her do as she promised.

“Go be useful. We’re short-staffed as it is. Help Ayden finish up in here.”

“Nah, don’t stick me with the twins. I got this,” I blurt out, taking the shovel from her death grip.

“I gotta get back to Mallory, so make sure they get to work,” she tells me before storming off.

You’d think a bunch of teenagers were managing the ranch, but the twins are only a year younger than me. Noah’s the youngest of the Hollis siblings and handles them like she’s their mother. It’s quite comical. Took me a bit to get used to the dynamic, but the Hollises became the family I wished I’d had.

“The goats need to be moved to the other pasture. Think one of you can manage that?” I ask, heading to the next stall.

“Wilder will do it,” Waylon offers for his brother. “While I go shower.”

Just as the twins are having a stare off, another Hollis sibling enters on a dirt bike.

“We havin’ a family meetin’ or something?” Landen asks. He looks nothing like the twins and is the middle child but acts the most like Wilder out of the brothers. Both are rowdy playboys who never take life seriously.

“Get that outta here. You know it spooks the horses.” I wave Landen away. As the breeding operations manager, he knows the rules.

“I was just comin’ to help. Noah texted.”

Jesus Christ. “I’mfine. If y’all would get the hell out and stop slowin’ me down, I wouldn’t need help.”

Wilder shrugs. “’Kay, fine. I’m off like a herd of turtles.”

He tends to the goats while Waylon goes to clean up, and Landen takes the trailer to the barn to unload hay into the loft. With the three of them out of my hair, I get back to shoveling shit so I can bring the horses back in.

An hour later, the stalls are cleaned out with fresh feed and water. When my phone rings, I see Tripp’s name.

“Yes?” I answer.

“I need someone for cabin call.”

“That ain’t my job.”

I walk to the back of the barn where my office and the restrooms are located. As the boarding operations manager, I oversee the stables, not the trail horses.

“Waylon ain’t answering, and six new guests signed up for the four o’clock riding session.”

I sigh. “Fine.”

Each person who stays in the cabins at the equine retreat and wants to go trail riding must use the same horse during their stay. The Hollises wanted a curated experience for each guest and based on their riding knowledge and age, we select which horse we provide for them. It’s Tripp’s job to oversee check-ins and tell Waylon which ones need to be saddled and ready for the afternoon tour.

“Go ahead,” I say once I grab a notepad and pen.

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