Page 62 of Strung Along

A pause. “I’m actually allergic to most animals, dogs and cats especially, but my parents didn’t want to risk horses either.”

“You’re allergic to animals, and you insisted I take you here?” I jerk my head back and try to pull her away from Sky, but the stubborn woman shakes her head and plants her feet to the ground.

“Oh, relax. I got more allergy tests done a few years back, and most animals are fine—including horses. Even if they weren’t, I only get an itchy rash when I come into contact with them. It’s nothing too serious,” she explains. “Are you allergic to anything?”

Her confidence allows me to begin to relax. “No. At least not that I know of.”

Sky whinnies again before butting her nose against our hands and moving back a few steps. I stifle a laugh at her obvious attitude and take Anna’s hand in mine, holding it at her side.

I meet Sky’s stare and shake my head. “We’re not coming in today.”

If horses could roll their eyes, she would have. The breath she blows before stomping her front hoof into the hay is just as bad.

“Has she always been so sassy?” Anna asks, grinning at her.

“From the moment I got her as a foal.”

“Huh. I bet that was good for you.” She smirks at Sky. “You’re probably half-responsible for his good manners.”

My mouth curves ever so slightly. “You’re probably right.”

Realizing she’s not going to get what she wants, Sky comes back, hanging her head over the gate for us to pet. Anna takes advantage of the chance, but I put my hands in my pockets.

I’m not ready to touch my horse again yet. Just once was more than enough to unravel every defense I’d spent years putting in place.

“Let me introduce you to the foals. You can spoil Sky with more affection later.”

Anna glances over her shoulder, and whatever she sees on my face has her agreeing without pause. With a soft parting pat on the neck, she says goodbye to Sky and follows me toward the open door leading to the outdoor pen.

We pass both empty stalls and ones with horses inside. Most of the stalls inside the stable are for new moms with their foals and the work horses we need kept close. The rest are out in the field behind the stable, able to roam wherever and whenever they please. Kip’s stall is the one beside Sky’s, his reins and coat missing from the hook on his gate as opposed to the ones hung on Sky’s.

Grandpa tried to tell me all about Sky when I got back, but I ignored him, and suddenly, I’m wishing I hadn’t. Too many questions linger in my head, from how often she’s been ridden since I’ve been gone to who’s been mucking her stall.

I’ve neglected her over the past decade—long before I took off to Nashville—and I’ll never forgive myself for that, even if it still hurts too much to make it right.

She deserves better than me, but she’s mine.

“Do I do the same things with these horses that I did with Sky?” she asks.

“Pretty much. Start with the mares and then go to the foals. If they’ll even pay you any mind. These two have been serious pains in the asses these past few weeks.”

She snorts. “They’re foals, not human toddlers.”

“They may not be pitchin’ fits, but they’re just as rambunctious. Steph has been telling anyone who will listen about these two specifically. They were birthed nearly one after the other last spring and have been inseparable since. Their energy is unmatched, hence the chasing earlier,” I explain.

Anna’s steps falter, her next words sharp despite her effort to appear unbothered. “Who’s Steph?”

It’s an effort not to appear smug at her jealousy. “The ranch employs two horse trainers. Steph is one, and Randy is the other.”

She nods. “That makes sense.”

“Would you like a full list of employees, sweetheart? I can name all the women for you,” I purr.

She scowls and swats at my arm. “You’re an ass.”

“Yet you like me enough to get jealous.”

“Nobody said anything about jealousy. I certainly didn’t.”

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