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I read the sale agreement carefully, not wanting to mess anything up, when Dash’s low voice steams into my space. “Whoa, boy.”
I glance up. It’s the Clydesdale. The extra horse Dash bought. He’s a beaut; and enormous. Pitch-black all over, he’s a fairy tale dream horse waiting for its knight in shining armor. Though he’s a fairy tale, he’s also agitated.
Dash flips the lead rope over his neck and takes the two ends of rope beneath is chin, giving him more control over the horse. What kind of giant has he brought here? Most draft horses are large in size but softies in character. Gentle giants. This one… well, he’s not bucking and rearing, but his hind leg kicks up and out every so often as if wanting to send Dash off two ways to Sunday.
But my boss isn’t alarmed. He just pats the creature, tries to keep him calm, then stops in front of me. “Romeo needs a stall.”
Romeo’s leg kicks out again, but Dash doesn’t even flinch.
“He looks like he’ll kick the shit out of any stall we have,” I say, trying to contain my nerves at having a horse as big and feisty as this on the yard.
“Pretty sure he has colic.” Dash pats Romeo’s neck.
Oh shit. Colic is basically belly aches in horses, but it can become serious fast and even killed a horse at one of my old ranches. That’s why Romeo is kicking. Horses with colic try to bite or kick the sides of their flanks with their hooves. Poor things can’t reach very well. “The Danes sent him anyway?”
“Jolie saw to him yesterday, so we knew it might be coming. Our job is to get him better.” Dash walks on past me toward the barn, disappearing into the stables, and he doesn’t come back.
I don’t get why we’d buy a horse that Jolie vetted yesterday and was showing signs of illness, especially illness that can kill a horse. But there isn’t time for questions. There won’t be time for answers either because I have a day of work ahead of me. A bigger day than others. So I leave Dash to tend to Romeo. We’ll have to divide and conquer for now.
I sign the paperwork and spend the next hours situating the Belgians in their new pasture and double-checking their troughs and supplies. I stop by Hank and the other workers I brought in to get the field shelters built.
When I get back to the yard, regular staff wait for me in the tack room where I reassign duties now that we have new horses here. Bobby stares at me with thin lips and crossed arms. If he thinks I’ll be intimidated by that he’ll have to try harder. I’m not one, but I do have the patience of a saint.
It’s a manic day, but I hold it together. I go down my checklist and tick all the boxes… but all I can think about is Romeo.
I finally make my way back into the barn an hour later. I unzip my coat and fling it over a bridle hook outside one of the stables. It’s warming up now, and I’ve been working my ass off. I smooth hair over my forehead and follow the low hum coming from a stall at the end of the barn.
I find Dash, shirt with one extra button undone, patting Romeo. His baritone voice offers a comforting vibration, and it almost works on me, too. I know we have some intense hours ahead. What I’ve learned, and from what Jolie told me, it isn’t recommended to leave a horse with colic alone. It’s going to be a long night.
Dash doesn’t turn to face me, but sensing my presence, he stops humming.
“Does that help them?” I ask. “Humming?”
Dash still doesn’t turn. “It helpsme.”
His confession softens my heart. “You have a nice voice.”
“Mmm.”
I enter the stall. Romeo seems calmer now, but when I touch his neck, he feels awfully hot. “Do you sing?” I ask, making conversation to help pass the time. A lot will be spent in this stable in the hours to come.
Dash doesn’t answer.
“Sorry… that’s a question.” I join Dash on Romeo’s side and stand close to the stable wall, as far away from him as I can, but personal space is limited. Staring at the back of his thick, muscular neck and the dark curls at the base of his skull, I remember the thoughts that ran through my mind last night. His neck is tan. Even in October.
Just when I think only silence will answer, he says, “I do. I sing a bit. But just for myself.”
I joke, “Yeah. Don’t see you hopping up on stage at Sly Bull’s anytime soon.”
“Hm.” It comes out like a punctuated laugh.
Romeo flicks his head back suddenly to nip at his stomach, and Dash flings himself back to not be hit by the huge, hard skull. His boot slips on the heel, and he falls into me. We both slam against the back wall of the stall, but he braces a hand to the side of me, stopping shy of hurting me. Still, in this moment, we’re chest to chest, crushed together so close I taste his minty breath. The extra button on his open shirt exposes his dewy golden skin. His pecs are a forceful, delicious pressure on my breasts, and it has my nipples peaking instantly. One hand braces him just over my head, and the other is wrapped around the small of my back, where he caught me before I banged my shoulder blades into the hard cement breeze-blocks.
My arms are straight down to my sides, and he holds my weight in the palm of his hand. His hips have fallen into mine. He stares down at me for what feels like an eternity. I’m sure it isn’t, but time just stands still. I’m a two-inch slip from my ass being on the floor, but his grip is so firm, somehow, I know I’ll never hit the ground.
Now I know why this man is the boss of even creatures ten times his size. His firm energy secures me in the most alpha way imaginable. He grips my back; eases me up to standing, and I look down at my shirt. He takes a step away.
I brush myself off, even though there isn’t a speck of dust on me, but I need my attention to be somewhere other than him.
