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“Ready?” He pointed toward the trail he’d come down.
I bumped my heels against Flower’s sides, and she fell into step with Atley’s horse.
“Your brother is pretty comfortable on a horse. I assumed you would be too.” He kept his eyes on the trail ahead.
“You can thank our mom. On all our family vacations, she would sign us up for horseback rides. She wanted to be a fancy show rider when she was young, and this was her way of reliving that dream. I’ve galloped on the beach in Mexico. Taken a pack mule to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. And even camped with the horses on the Appalachian trail. My dad’s butt was so sore after that three-day ride, he vowed to never get on another horse.”
Atley chuckled. “Then you should have no problems keeping up.” He nudged his horse into a ground-covering canter, and I followed. He was like an extension of his horse, steady and sure in the saddle in a way I doubted I’d ever be.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t keep up.
The sun was low on the horizon, still hours of daylight left, but the worst of the summer heat had dissipated. Our horses flew across the sandy trail. The wind whipped through my hair, washing away all the thoughts rattling around in my overcrowded head. There was nothing like letting a horse carry you toward the horizon, the three-beat rhythm of its hooves striking the ground like a mantra that sharpened your focus and held you present in the moment.
Forget yoga. This was my Zen moment.
At the edge of the vineyard, Atley pulled up, and we guided the horses between the rows of vines.
“Is that your horse?” I asked, remembering Leroy’s comment that Atley would talk horses given the opportunity.
“Yep. He’s officially named Doc’s Jet Fuel Gin. I’ve called him Jet since I got him as a colt. Bred from a long line of ranch horses up at the Four Sixes Ranch.”
“He’s beautiful.”
“That he is, and he knows it. Wait till you see him work cutting cows. It’s all instinct. I’m just a passenger.”
That was all it took. Atley was ready to talk my ear off. I learned more about him and his horse in the fifteen minutes it took to walk the rest of the way to the dancehall than I had all night in Dallas.
“I’d considered vet school after undergrad at Texas A&M, but ten more years of school wasn’t for me. I got my first ranch job at a big operation outside Tyler. Learned all I could about breeding and advanced reproduction techniques.”
“So, you’re a cow gynecologist?”
He chuckled. “Can’t say I’ve ever thought of it like that, but sure. After Tyler, I moved around to different ranches, learning more about agriculture while I worked on my MBA. I’m lucky to make a living doing this. It’s a lot better than an office.”
“You need an MBA to manage a ranch?”
“Need? No. Is it helpful when you walk into a meeting with a billionaire and tell him how to spend his money? Hell, yes. Your brother can be intimidating when he wants.”
“But you were here before him?”
“Six years. I’m proud of what this place has become. I’ve done so much here, different from what my family did.” He nodded and stood a little in his stirrups, taking a long look around. Satisfaction radiated off him. He was the architect of all he surveyed, but not the owner.
We followed a fence line to a gate that he opened from the saddle. Then we crossed an expanse of brown dead grass to reach the dancehall.
“Time to get to work.” I tossed my leg over the back of the saddle and dropped to the ground. A few aches and pains in my inner thighs reminded me it had been too long since I last sat on a horse.
Atley tied the horses to a fence rail and removed my notepad and pen from the saddlebag. He kept an iPad and stylus for himself. Together we walked up the wide steps, and he rolled open the barn door on the front. The room was still as beautiful and as daunting as before. The potential screamed to be set free.
“I’ve already got a few of my guys coming over tomorrow to clean out all the junk. You’ll need a real cleaning crew to scrub and dust, but it will be a start.”
“Thank you.” Gratitude that I wouldn’t be fighting him for every little thing flooded over me. It was a small step, but one in the right direction.
Chapter 11
Atley
“Monday, first thing, I’vescheduled the contractors to stop in for a meeting. We’ve used them in the past, and unless you have an objection, we can ask them to start the dancehall ASAP. At the meeting, they can confirm your shopping list of fixtures. And they might have a few supply houses they can recommend in Austin or San Antonio with in-stock selections.”
Yeah, I called in a favor with my preferred local contractors to get us on their schedule. I might not love the tasting room plan, but it was my job to manage Blue Star for Wilson as he directed. Wilson might think he needed me, but I wasn’t irreplaceable. Hell, Jameson would be the first to step up and take my job given the chance.
