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“Thanks, guys. Bobby is going to be… a challenge. I can stick up for myself, but I’ll have to figure out how to pick my battles with that one,” I say.
Georgie is tipsy. “Just fire his ass. You can find someone else. He’s such a prick.”
I laugh lightly. “Yeah. But he’s a prick who knows what he’s doing. And he does care about the horses. And even though he doesn’t respect me, he does respect Dash. So what if he doesn’t like me? We don’t have to be friends to work together.”
And there it is. My return to thoughts aboutmyboss. The one who isn’t my friend.
Logan pipes up. “Good attitude, Molly. Assholes are part of the territory in ranch life. Contrary to popular opinion, not all cowboys are gentlemen.”
I circle a finger around the ring of my glass and wonder if Dash is gentle. I will need to erase these dirty thoughts before morning. Hopefully, he’ll be in bed before I get home tonight. I wonder if he sleeps naked.
ChapterSix
MOLLY
I didn’t stay out much longer,and Dash was in bed when I got home. I hardly fall back to sleep after his alarm again, this time wide awake with equal parts curiosity about his whereabouts and excitement for the day to come.
When I get up at five, a little earlier to prepare for the Belgians’ arrival, the day begins with another note by the coffee.
I’ll be back by six.
D
It’s an old married couple’s kind of note, and the irony makes me laugh to myself and shake my head. I don’t need to keep tabs on Dash, but he’s being considerate nevertheless, because today, all I really wanted to know when I woke up was if he’d be here with me to sort the new herd out.
But it isn’t about having help.
I’m not afraid of hard work. I’ve been rolling up my sleeves my whole life. When other kids moped around bored on the playground over three-month summers, saying there was nothing to do, I was at home cooking, cleaning, and making dinner for three. Or lying about my age to take on a job at the corner store. Or runningerrandsfor my mom.
I don’t remember a time when work wasn’t part of my life, so it’s my nature now. But I never thought I could enjoy it quite this much. And I’d like to enjoy itwithsomeone. And that’s why, staring at the note, knowing I’ll have someone to smile with, or maybe in this case at, makes this even sweeter.
Life has been slowly changing and evolving into something much more authentic. Since moving to New Mexico when my baby sister got into college in Albuquerque, I don’t have to pretend so much anymore. I don’t have to pretend I’m my sister’s mother (as much as in many ways, I feel I am). I don’t have to pretend I’m a hustler just to survive city life. I don’t have to pretend I’m smarter than I am. Being a ranch worker, all people care about is that you went to the school of life and got straight A’s in common sense. The past three and a half years, I’ve eased more and more into my own skin.
Dash doesn’t get how him backing this project affects me. I know it isn’t normal to gush to this level, but me getting this stable manager position, and having an opportunity to grow and learn after years of being nothing more than a boulder carrier, is… liberating. This must be how my sister felt when she got into college. It’s like the door with the big prize has opened.
I put the note down on the counter and smooth it with my hand. Having Dash here today is like having someone around when you catch the big fish. My mind wanders to why he said yes. Did he read my proposal? Does he simply love horses and he can’t say no like a collector? I deflate slightly, thinking maybe it was faith in his own ability rather than mine that got him to say yes to the new venture.
I bite my lip and scrape my teeth along it. I won’t mess this up. I’ll make this the best damn winter wonderland in the country, even if I work ’til my hands bleed. Though if they do, I probably won’t even notice because damn do I love what I do now. When you have to do something you also want, well, that’s probably what it means to find your purpose. I’ve finally found mine.
I drink Dash’s very strong coffee, so strong I almost pull a face, when a faint beeping comes from below my kitchen window. I rush over and there in the yard is a giant horse trailer withMoon Ridge Ranchwritten on the side.Shit.They’re early.
By the time I hit the dirt in the yard, the trailer is parked, and behind me a pair of boots scrape across the gravel and dust, quickly, jogging in my direction. When I turn, there he is, the midnight cowboy himself, rushing toward me. The cloud of cold air puffing out of his mouth precedes him like a country music star bursting through smoke screen on stage. How the hell does he manage to look so sexy doing such ordinary things?
When he reaches me, his cheeks are boyish and rosy from his morning in the cold. A smirk hides beneath his lips. “You’re late.”
I smile, wishing mine would coax a real one out of him. I lift my eyebrows. “Or maybe you’re early.”
We stare at the back of the parked trailer when two of the Danes’ stable workers get out and come around back. One of them hands Dash a clipboard with paperwork on it and a pen under the clip and goes back to the trailer.
Dash shoves the clipboard into my hands. “This is yours.”
I read the document. It’s the sale agreement. “No… it’s for you.”
He watches the men open the trailer doors but cocks his head to the side. “Your stables. Your budget. Your idea…yoursignature.”
My eyes track Dash and his ass wandering over to the workers to get stuck in and help unload the horses. I stare down at the clipboard.Mystables.Mybudget.Myidea… I’ve never felt so empowered. So validated. So… I fill with a warm sensation, one that consumes me whole, leaving no trace of doubt.
I’m actually doing this.
