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The twins manage the trail ride tours, which are twice a day, once in the morning and once in the afternoon. They’re usually good about being on time, but with them, you never know.
“Got it.” I’m ready to hang up and hunt down Waylon.
“Also, someone’s here for ya.” He hesitates before continuing. “A woman.”
“Who?”
“Not sure. She asked if you were workin’ today, and I said I’d see about findin’ ya. She’s a looker, too.”
Scoffing, I say, “Alright, I’ll be there shortly.”
I end the call and take the piece of paper with me as I walk out of the barn.
Noah’s in the corral with one of the boarders, but Mallory’s nowhere to be found. I was hoping she saw them. Though she’s just a kid, she’s a little gossip queen who keeps tabs on everyone.
Grabbing my phone, I click on Waylon’s name.
He picks up. “What?”
“You missed cabin call. I got the list.”
“Shit. Be right there.”
We end the call, and I turn to Noah. “How’s Brighton doin’?”
“She’s feisty today.” Noah clicks her tongue, trying to get her to move a certain way. Noah’s a natural-born horse expert. Even at eleven years old when I first met her, I could tell she had a special gift. She gets paid the big bucks for training show horses. I don’t think Noah’s taken more than a day off a week in the past five years. She’s already booked out for the next two with clients who want her to train their horses for competitions, barrel racing, and jumping.
“She’s scheduled to leave in a couple weeks. Think she’ll be ready?” I ask.
“Oh yeah. She’s bound to have an off day, but she’ll be good to go. Plus, we’ll need her stall for the next one.”
“I’m sure Tripp could come down this evenin’ if you need assistance,” I suggest as I wait for Waylon to hurry his ass down here.
Tripp’s only two years older than her and is an experienced trainer, too. He pitches in when Noah needs a hand, but I know her well enough to know she’s too prideful to admit when she needs help.
“He’s already workin’ on Rosebud and Jewels. Plus, he’s on guest services this weekend,” she says as she continues Brighton’s lunges.
Friday and Saturday nights are karaoke and square dancing nights for the guests. We all take turns emceeing since it’s the least desired job at the retreat. Well, except for Wilder, who enjoys the attention. Ever since a video of him went viral a year ago, he’s requested almost every weekend. A bunch of thirsty housewives couldn’t get enough of his flirty antics and always want more of him shaking his ass. He might as well. He makes the most tips out of all of us.
“Right, but I’m sure if you—”
“You losin’ faith in me, Ayden?” she teases.
“Never. You’re amazin’, you know that. Just worry about ya. Like an annoyin’ little sister who never takes a moment for herself.”
“I take offense to that.”
“You know I’m kiddin’.” I chuckle. “What would I do without your entertainin’ last-minute mania to make your deadlines?”
She snorts. “Have a life of your own, maybe?”
Though each day can be chaotic, I’m grateful for it. My mind stays busy, and not knowing what to expect each morning keeps things interesting and fun most of the time.
Finally, Waylon arrives in his pickup. “Sorry, I left my phone in my truck when I went to shower, and then Ma distracted me with food.”
I hand him the list. “Better be quick. They all want on the afternoon tour.”
He grunts. “Yeah, yeah.”
