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“What did you just call him?” I arch a brow, holding back laughter.
“After a while, all these killer racehorse names start soundin’ the same.” He shrugs. “You’re a pro at this. I’ll leave ya to it.”
“Thanks. We’ve wasted enough time this mornin’,” I say, moving toward Widowmaker.
I place my foot in the stirrup and pull myself onto the saddle. Leaning down, I pat him, then we return to our warm-up walk before the real work begins.
I’ve been training horses since I was a teenager, and none of them have been the same, even though the principles and basics don’t change. Not sure why I expected this big guy to be any different. He’s only four and has a lot to learn.
Each time we pick up our pace, I give him praise so he knows he’s done well. We work on the basics of moving in long straight strides. He gets fussy as we take a corner, so I turn him and do it again. When he gets it right, his excitement doesn’t go unnoticed.
After an hour of training, I brush Widowmaker, then put him in his stall before getting Danger ready for his session. Keeping my horses on their training schedule is critical. If I fuck up one of my time slots, it will throw off the entire week, and I don’t have time for that.
When Mom yells that it’s lunchtime, I realize I’ve lost track of time again. If it weren’t for her reminders, I’d skip meals because I get so focused.
After brushing Danger, I head to the front of the facility and wash my hands in the bathroom.
“Headin’ to the B&B,” I say, poking my head into the office where I catch my parents making out. “Oh, c’mon. Get a room.”
“We’ve got one.” Mom reaches over and shuts the door in my face. Even after all these years, they’re grossly in love. One day, I wish to have what they do, but at this rate, I’ll have more luck being struck by lightning.
“Kaitlyn?” she shouts behind the door before I can walk away. “Don’t forget Zach will be late cleaning the stalls after school this week.”
“I won’t,” I reply, then go to my truck.
Zach, my cousin’s ten-year-old son, has been a lifesaver. Riley and Zoey, his parents, have encouraged him to get more involved, and since he loves horses so much, I offered him a side job as my official ranch hand helper. Although, he still has to get good grades, and homework comes before chores. His little brother, Zealand, is a few years younger than him and also loves horses. As he gets older, I suspect he’ll want to pitch in too.
Several times per week, he helps in the barn to clean stalls and organize the tack room. On the weekends, he does the same but also enjoys hanging around the arena and watching me train. When school lets out for the summer next month, he’ll be around a lot more, and I’ll find him more stuff to stay busy. The kid loves ranch life so much, but it’s all he’s ever known. Hell, it’s all any of us have ever known.
Walking up the porch steps into the B&B, I can already smell the fried chicken my cousin made. As the head chef, Maize plans all the menus for the guests and ranch hands. It’s tradition to eat breakfast and lunch here, and sometimes dinner when I’m feeling lazy.
“Have you seen Gavin today?” Maize asks as soon as I reach for a plate. Her husband, Gavin, works at the training facility and helps break riding horses. He’s also a retired bull rider who has trained others to be champions too.
“I saw him earlier, but we really didn’t talk. We’ve been busy as hell today. The stables are full of horses.”
“Damn. I’m trying to get all the ingredients together for Kane and Ivy’s wedding cake. I need Gavin to run into town and grab me all the vanilla extract they have stocked at the grocery store.”
I snort. “How did you run out of vanilla? Isn’t that like a key ingredient?”
“Yes. Thank you, Miss Obvious.” She places her hand on her hip and playfully rolls her eyes. “But if you must know, I’ve been making cupcakes for the bride-to-be to taste test. Then the other day, I turned around with a hot pan and knocked the glass jar of vanilla right off the counter. It shattered into a million pieces. I’ve never cried over spilt anything…until that very moment.”
I try to hold back my laughter but fail.
She gives me a stern look. “It’s not funny. It was imported from Italy! And there is no way a replacement bottle will arrive by this weekend, even if I pay for priority shipping. So now I’m gonna have to use some bullshit brand of vanilla extract—yes, it’s different—which makes me so damn mad I could scream.”
“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. The wine bar will keep everyone preoccupied, and trust me when I say no one will know the difference other than you and your fancy-ass taste buds. Seriously, you can make a box cake taste like it’s gourmet, so I have no doubt this will be just as delicious. The icing is what makes it, and I think they chose buttercream, right?”
Her face cracks into a smile, and she nods. “I guess you’re right. I’m just nervous because of everyone’s high expectations. It could be the shittiest cake any of y’all have ever had, but everyone would lie and say it’s amazin’.”
“If it sucks, I’ll tell you the truth. How about that?”
“Deal. Speaking of the wedding…how’re ya holdin’ up?”
“Oh, you mean since I’ll officially be the last to get married in the family? And now my brother, who I’d bet five hundred dollars I’d get married before, actually beat me to it. I’m happy for Kane but annoyed at myself.”
“Just remember a broken clock is right twice a day.”
I groan. “I’m a single Pringle with no prospects to mingle. Zero interested parties. What’s wrong with me?”
