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Heat tore through me in nothing but sheer embarrassment. I hadn’t meant to come across like that at all.
I nodded. “I...I didn’t mean to come across as including him in my problems. I’m sorry. I...do you want me to leave?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not asking anything of the sort. I guess what I’m trying to say in a roundabout way is if you’re as sweet on him as he is you, I will make an exception to my rules—this once, and this once only.”
What was I supposed to say? Thank you? Why make us an exception? Who was to say it was going to go anywhere anyway?
“Before you start protesting,” he said, laughing. “I’m not blind. I’m twice your age remember—I’ve been there, and brought back a dozen t-shirts. I spoke to Brady earlier, too. He wouldn’t act on anything without my blessing. He has far too much respect.”
Act on anything? Brady wanted to act on something? With me? Hope and excitement spread through me like wildfire. What did this mean exactly? If ‘relations’ between guests and staff were forbidden, why was John making me an exception? What exactly had Brady said to him?
Before I could even think of a response, the rear doors of the truck opened as a handful of other guests climbed in. I smiled at John, who then patted my arm in return. Nothing about his demeanour or tone of voice had inclined towards any sort of warning—more of a ‘permission given’ kind of feeling.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up at the neighbouring ‘Morgan Mustang Ranch’.The scene before me was just incredible—it was like something from a movie. A bright red barn with white beams and doors sat in front of us. Dozens of straw bales were scattered about outside over a vast area. A group of twenty or so horses stood in the nearby corral, dozing off in the evening heat with their saddles still on their backs.
We jumped out of the truck and followed John’s lead inside. The delicious aroma of barbequed meat wafted through the air, making my stomach growl. Stepping inside the airy barn was another treat. Fairy lights were strung all the way around the roof, yet more straw bales lined the edge of the dancefloor, and old wooden tables with rickety chairs provided the perfect aged seating.
As the country music band added to the setting perfectly, we headed to the bar. Whilst I wasn’t really a ‘pint of beer’ type of woman, I felt the need to attempt to blend into the scenery, so I indulged myself in a bottle of Budweiser.
I leaned back against the solid wooden bar and watched the crowd of people on the dancefloor jigging away to the upbeat rhythm of the music. Chatter and laughter filled the air, and despite the fact I was on my own, I was content. As I realised this, it dawned on me that I’d never been in a position to be confident on my own—I’d always had Ben with me whenever outside of work or the house.
Sipping away at my bottle of beer, I felt an overwhelming sense of empowerment creeping through me. From my mid-teens to my mid-twenties, Ben had been my crutch, and my guide, for everything. Now though, I felt accomplished at managing to do such a trivial thing as stand on my own in a public place.
I lost myself in thought, absent-mindedly staring into space as I allowed myself to think over the situation back at home. Even though I’d only been out here a few days, I already felt like a storm cloud had been lifted from my mind. Everything was just simple, and easy. There were no complications, no stresses and strains of day to day life, or working all the hours possible to fill the hole my horses had once occupied.
If I stripped away that side of things, I could taste the bitterness of Ben’s disloyalty. We never spent any time together, or did anything together. Our conversations were brief, whether that be through tiredness or laziness. We had essentially become two people sharing the same house, working to pay bills to continue living there. Was that really a relationship? Or was that just the ‘norm’ these days?
I sighed as I had to swallow the sour pill that just maybe, I couldn’t lay all the blame on Ben. Perhaps he’d been just as desperate as me to feel wanted, loved, to continue bonding with someone as you go out and do things together. But then, why didn’t we discuss it? Had we grown that far apart from one another?
“I’m sure if you frown any harder, you’ll turn that beer.”
I snapped out of my ponderings to see Brady stood at my side, grinning. My heart skipped a beat. He looked damn gorgeous. His cream Stetson complemented his bronzed skin along with his pale blue checked shirt, and his dark jeans hugged him in all the right places.
“Sorry,” I said, my cheeks flushing with heat. “In my own little world.”
His amused features eased into something a little sincerer. “You really do look the part,” he said. “With or without the beer.”
I giggled. “It’s only thanks to you. I really do appreciate it.”
“How are you liking your beer?”
“It’s actually quite nice.”
He chuckled, and turned his attention to the young bar maid. Her cheeks grew pinker with every passing second as he ordered his own drink. I sympathised with her—I knew all too well the effect he had on women.
Two men approached Brady, pulling him into ‘man-hugs’ and grilling him about his life. The gleam in his eyes as he spoke about his life was unmissable—he belonged out here. From the parts of conversation I’d picked up, it sounded like they were friends who’d been out on the rodeo circuit for months and were now back home.
My rumbling tummy reminded me again that it needed filling, especially now I was drinking. The smell of fried onions and flame grilled burgers enticed me away from my cowboy, luring me outside.
I stepped out into the warm night air, and took a deep breath. Something about this whole scenario tonight was so invigorating, I didn’t want it to end. As if a toddler being tempted by The Child Catcher, I followed the trail of smoke filtering through the air towards my treat.
Sat around the back of the barn was a fantastic display of food. On a patio area sat a hog roast, the huge carcass slowly spinning around over the top of an open fire. Next to it was a huge barbeque with easily thirty or more pieces of meat cooking away on top. Groups of people milled around, eating in between talking and laughing.
I sorted two burgers out for myself, added more onions than the bread rolls could take, and drowned them in ketchup. Nobody paid any attention to me which was nice—I didn’t really feel like making small talk with strangers.
Slipping back around to the front of the barn, I sat on the straw bale closest to the corral, gazing at the horses patiently awaiting to be a taxi service home. A little shot of jealousy stabbed through me as I wished we’d ridden here. Memories of my own horses sprang to mind, leaving me thinking about where they were now, and what they might be doing.
Munching my way through my food with my back to the barn, I almost jumped out of my skin when a deep voice from next to me said,
