I watch her slide her hands into the front pockets of her jeans, spotting the huge rock on her finger. This must be Cal’s wife.
“I never caught your name,” I cock my head, watching her, the way her brows twitch and the corners of her mouth turn down just a touch. A whole flurry of emotions sweep over her features, from trepidation to confusion before it settles on curiosity. Her eyes drag down me, not leaving a place of me untouched before they return to my face.
“That’s because I never told you it,” she points out.
“Right,” I feel the corner of my mouth tip up. “Well, have a good ride.”
“You too,” she responds automatically before her brows tug low. “Wait, no. Have a good, whatever it is you’re about to do.”
I chuckle, “Will do.”
I turn and exit the stalls, rounding the corner and immediately spot Cal leaning over the fence to one of the training rings, the Appaloosa I’m here to work with inside. He’s watching one of his workers, a young guy who looks entirely too nervous to be inside that ring with the horse, trying to rope it. I shake my head and pinch the bridge of my nose.
What the fuck is he even trying to attempt here? That horse is nowhere near ready to be locked in a training paddock, and he’s asking for someone to get hurt, if not killed. An anxious horse is a dangerous horse, and all it’ll take is a well-timed kick to end someone’s life.
I don’t shout or whistle, not when I can see the horse is already two minutes away from lashing out, and any kind of loud noise now will only amplify her nerves.
“You need to call them off,” I keep my voice low as I step up to Cal, trying to keep my cool so I don’t bite his fucking head off. He’s a damn idiot who has no business trying to train this horse or any of these animals.
“Why?” Cal grunts. “He’s about to get her.”
“No, he’s about to get kicked. Call him off.”
“Just wait and see,” Cal presses.
“You called me here to deal with this; I’m dealing with it. Call him off before someone gets hurt. Now.”
His blue eyes land on my face, and he must read something there because he listens. He puts his fingers between his lips and lets out a shrill whistle that has me flinching, my teeth gritted as I watch the horse spook. The guy in the ring barely gets over the fence before it vibrates with the force of the kick.
I shake my head, “Stop pushing her.” I growl to Cal, “She’s not ready.”
He huffs, “The longer I wait, the more money I lose.”
Of course, it’s about the money.
“I’ve got a whole waitlist wanting to ride her. Time is money, Knight.”
The Scott Ranch, while handles some livestock, is more of anexperienceranch. They hire out cabins and do riding days, offering tourists the experience of this life without the nitty gritty parts that are the actual back bone of this field of work. They have the look of a working ranch, with cows in the fields, goats and chicken free roaming but they don’t have the skills to make this place a real working farm. Not like Knight Falls, where we are both.
“You can’t put a saddle on her until she’s at least four, and that’s pushing it.”
He rolls his eyes, “She’ll be fine.”
“Listen,” I snap at him, way past irritated with this fuck, “We either do this my way, or I will pack my shit and leave. You think you’ve got what it takes to train a filly like that, then be my guest. I’ll send you an invoice for my services thus far.”
“Hey now,” he holds up his hands, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“What you’re suggesting will hurt her, and I will have no part in that,” I snap at him. “And I will have you closed and drowning in legal debt before the week is through.”
A muscle twitches in his jaw, back molars grinding as he glares at me. I’ve dealt with far scarier people than Calvin fucking Scott, and I have no problem dealing with him now.
“Your choice, Scott.” I meet his stare, holding, showing him who the real threat here is. He doesn’t scare me, nothing fucking scares me anymore, not after everything I’ve been through, everything I’ve seen. There’s a heavy, long pause, but he drops his stare.
“Fine,” he grunts and pushes off the fence.
I watch him practically run from me, but my gaze drifts, toward the stables where the blonde woman is sitting on the back of Ginger. She watches Cal as he stomps his way to the main house, grunting andbarking at anyone who attempts to talk to him before the front door slams behind him, rattling the little bell next to it.
Her eyes dart to me, and she begins to worry her bottom lip. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something, but she squeezes her heels into Ginger’s side, spurring her to move.
