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Twenty-five minutes later, Chase swore he could still taste Harper on his tongue. His cock had remained semi-hard until he’d finally arrived at Shep and Emma’s farm. The white farmhouse stood next to a large grass paddock with a donkey, a couple of goats, a sheep and a cow, all of whom had come to this farm after enduring abuse, except for Tadgh, Shep’s black warmblood, and a mare, Fiona, who had been with the Blackshaw family for years.
From Chase’s spot in a rocking chair on the porch, his gaze moved across the red barn that housed the animals at night to the sand ring on the right. Dirt lingered in the air as Bentley, a chestnut gelding, kept his head low, his front legs out straight, and bucked with one intent. To get Nash off his back.
Bentley, obviously realizing Nash wouldn’t fall easily, spun on his hindquarters then twisted his body the other way, tossing Nash forward. Bentley reared once then gave another brutal buck. Nash landed in the dirt with a thud, with Gus barking wildly at him.
Next to Chase, Shep laughed.
When Gus barked louder, Nash yelled, “Enough.” He whipped off his cowboy hat, tossing it at Gus, who caught the hat midair, shaking it side to side. “No. Fuck. Gus. No.” Nash charged toward Gus.
“This is almost painful to watch.” Chase chuckled before taking a swig of his cold beer. Nash had a way with horses. His dog was another story entirely.
Once he wrangled his hat back from Gus, Nash turned to Bentley. “You are a dirty fucking bastard.”
Amusing as this was, concern touched Chase. “Is this wise? Nash is only a month out of physiotherapy.” The youngest Blackshaw had always been reckless, but that behavior had worked for him for a long time. He had made a career out of madness, shooting his way up the rankings as a professional bull rider. But one nasty bull and a spinal cord injury ended that dream in less than eight seconds.
Sipping his beer, Shep studied Nash and sighed. “I told him that training Bentley was a bad idea, but you know Nash. He doesn’t listen to a damn word I say.”
Chase focused back on Nash, who’d slowly begun walking toward Bentley again. He wasn’t limping, and he wore a back brace. Chase knew his brother would not risk injury again. He also knew how to fall off a horse to avoid hurting himself. Though as he stared at the most stubborn Blackshaw, a sudden opportunity presented itself. “Twenty bucks says that Nash doesn’t give up tonight.” While Chase knew the horse had had a tough life and had been saved from an abusive situation a few months ago, he also knew his younger brother well.
Shep offered his hand. “Deal. That horse will not break.”
After shaking on it, Chase sipped his beer again, glancing out, watching as Nash slowly approached Bentley with his hands out. He managed to grab the bridle made of rope with the two reins not connected at the ends.
Right as Nash stroked the horse’s neck, Chase’s cell beeped. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, discovering a text from Brody.
We need to talk. Where are you?
Shep’s, Chase texted back.
On my way.
“Brody’s coming by,” Chase said, shoving his phone back into his pocket. To let his brother in on the happenings in his life, he thought it wise to add, “I might end up needing your help if he knows I slept at Harper’s house last night.”
Before Shep could reply, Brody’s black Jeep sped up the driveway. Shep glanced sideways and chortled. “You are a dead man.”
“Maybe.” Chase rose, leaving his beer bottle on the table in case he needed use of his hands.
The Jeep skidded to a stop near the porch steps. Brody was out a second later, moving around the front of the hood. Gus ran from the sand ring to greet him, and Brody patted his head before approaching. That had to be a good sign. In fact, as soon as Brody drew close, Chase knew everything was fine, regardless of whether Brody knew about last night. Chase would never keep this truth from Brody, but he wouldn’t offer it up either. For one, Chase would never ask another person permission for anything. Two, Brody truly did not want to know what Chase was doing with Harper, as long as Chase did not ruin her dreams that had vanished when her parents passed away. And that was the last thing Chase would do. Her happiness mattered.
“It’s Friday,” Brody said when he reached Chase.
Chase shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning against the white newel post. “What’s Friday?”
“My wedding.” Brody smiled.
Shep got out of his chair for that. He trotted down the porch steps, eyes wide with surprise. “You’re getting married?”
Brody nodded. “Yeah, proposed to Faith last night.”
“That’s excellent news.” Shep offered his hand. “Congratulations.”
Brody nodded his thanks and returned the handshake. “I know it’s happening fast, but I want Harper to be there, and who knows how busy she’ll get once she’s in Vegas.”
“Sonuvabitch!”
Chase glanced over his shoulder. Nash hit the dirt. Hard. But he rolled and bounced up a second later. “All right?” Chase called.
“I’m fucking fine.” Nash scooped up his hat that had fallen off. He headed for the fence, leaving the sweaty Bentley standing in the corner, the rope reins hanging down near his hooves.
