Page 6 of Wilder

“She’s... scared of the drums.”

How was that possible when we hadn’t pulled them out of storage in years?

“You know that crinkling noise an empty water bottle makes when you crush it? Yeah, she hates that.”

I lifted my hat off of my head and ran a hand through the sweat soaked strands a few times, brushing them back.

How in the world did he figure that out?

Trial and error, I suppose.

Or maybe simply dumb luck with being at the right place at the right time?

I was dying to question it like usual. To tell him to show me how the hell he even thought about crinkling a plastic water bottle around her to test what upset her and go from there.

I wanted to lean more toward dumb luck but knew better. He was much smarter than his years gave him credit for. I’d made the mistake of underestimating him one too many times, and at every turn he’d come to prove me a fool.

Asher was a good kid. Determined as hell. I doubted me standing in the way of him was going to discourage him from figuring something else out. He’d get our palomino out to that paddock eventually, with or without my blessing.

“I promise I’ll bring it back.” He patted the bale next to us as he spoke.

Without meaning to, I let out a snort. Not exactly the issue I was focusing on. Then again, Asher wasn’t the type to look too deeply into why I sometimes grew quiet on him. From experience, he took things at face value unless told otherwise.

“All right,” I said with a sigh. “Have Dallas help you drag these out there and back in. If Ryder’s around, have him help you, too. These things are a pain in the ass to roll by yourself.”

He grinned, practically bleeding happiness. “Thanks, boss. Will do.”

My stomach suddenly flipped.

What the hell was that?

Swallowing thickly, I stepped away from him. “Let me know how it goes.”

CHAPTER 3

Asher

My hands were rubbed raw from the lead wrapped around my hand, a slight burning sensation that coupled nicely with the tugging of the horse, that I’d affectionately named Pelly, attached to the other end of it while I led her around the bale of hay again.

Doing this without a pair of gloves on was probably stupid, and a decision I was definitely going to regret come tomorrow morning when Wilder inevitably assigned me to clearing out the stalls and refilling them with fresh bedding; a chore he’d been talking about for the past week and a half but had yet to get around to delegating to anyone.

Usually, those were the tasks I got put on, helping to maintain the upkeep of the ranch.

It wasn’t a bad job by any means, definitely beating out some of the other non-glamorous chores that went into keeping a property like this running smoothly. My problem was that I wanted to do more than cleaning up shit all day.

Literally.

Obviously, working here with the crew we had meant pitching in equally and doing my fair share of getting my hands dirty. I didn’t have that much of an inflated ego where I believed I was above any of that, not by a long shot, and had always enjoyed putting in my fair share of labor to ease the burden of someone else’s.

That was exactly what I’d been taught my entire life growing up. With an older brother in a career that was based exclusively on teamwork, those kinds of values definitely blended into how he raised my brother and me, too.

Greyson and I grew up always working together, no matter what it was—in school, during extracurriculars, being complete nuisances to our older brother because that was our job as the younger siblings; the list went on and on.

So, finding that here at the ranch it was required of me, felt like second nature to fall into. I was well aware of the fact that I needed to earn my keep as the newbie and I had no problem doing so. After all, that was exactly what I’d signed up for the moment Wilder had clasped my then soft hand in his sun-kissed, work-roughened, and calloused one, and welcomed me aboard.

Which was exactly why I got good at blasting through my chores for the day in order to focus on what I really wanted to do: trying to rehab the horses no one had any clue how to help.

Coming to work here had kind of been on a whim. With Greyson headed off for the military weeks after we graduated high school and Gage busy with the fire station, I was the one left to drift aimlessly after high school. I’d graduated with no plan and not an ounce of will power to drag myself into one of the local fast food places and ask for an application.