Chapter 3
Coming from California, I should have been less impressed with the Rocky Mountains of Colorado than I was. In my defense, Blue Skies Farm was located in central California, where the ocean and the Sierra foothills were both an hour away in different directions, so mostly the view consisted of flat fields. I had visited Yosemite and all that with my parents, but somehow the Rockies were just a little bit more. A little wilder, a little more intense.
Every five minutes I shrieked “Holy shit!” to my empty car and pulled over to snap a picture with my phone. It made the drive from the coffee shop to Lodestar Ranch a lot longer, but—
A stranger’s lips pressed to mine, the scent of horses and pine, teetering on my toes—
Gah! No! The memory popped into my brain like a jump scare. Instinctively, I squeezed my eyes shut, remembered that I was driving, and forced them open again. Fortunately, the dirt road leading to the ranch was straight and flat, lined by fields the fluorescent green of late spring.
“It’s fine,” I said out loud. “I never have to see him again. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.” I chanted the words like a mantra.
That didn’t stop the hot flush from spreading across my cheeks. But, who cared? No one was here to witness my embarrassment. Anyway, these things happened. Not to me, usually. I wasn’t the sort of person things happened to, the kind of person who always had a story where hilarity ensued, like in a romantic comedy. Hilarity literally never ensued.
Until today.
A laugh bubbled out of me, ending on a drawn-out groan. It was hard to say who had been more startled, me or the grumpy cowboy who had been minding his own business before I went and accosted him with my mouth. Safe to say, hilarity ensued had not been on either of our agendas for the day.
I drove underneath a metal sign that proclaimed the property to be Lodestar Ranch. The main house—a picturesque white with green trim—was straight ahead, and behind that I could see the green-tiled roofs of the stables. There was a mess of rose bushes front and center of the circular driveway. The whole scene was so dang pretty that I let out an excited little squeal as I put the SUV in park and stepped out.
Good lord, it was gorgeous here. I felt like Dorothy waking up in Oz. A black-and-white existence ending in screaming color.
I stretched out my arms, easing the cramped muscles in my back, taking it all in with a wide smile.
The green door banged open. “James Campos?”
The man who greeted me was tall and trim, despite being well on his way to seventy, if he hadn’t hit the milestone yet. I recognized him instantly from our video interview. “That’s me. Ted Hale?”
He nodded. “Thought it was you, but my eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
Ted came down the steps, offering his hand. I took it firmly. His eyes glimmered with surprised approval as we shook, and I bit back a smirk. My strong handshake caught everyone by surprise. Strong, but not aggressive. A handshake should be a statement, not an assault.
“Nice boots,” he said.
“Thanks.”
Cowboy boots weren’t my first choice for road trip footwear. I had spent the first two days of driving in comfortable sneakers, only switching to my pink cowboy boots when I reached Aspen Springs and pulled into Jo’s for coffee. Maybe it was silly of me, but these boots were my good luck charm. I wanted everything to be perfect.
“How about I take you to your cabin to settle in, and then give you a tour of the property? As I told you in the interview, my oldest son, Adam, runs the show around here, but he’s out doing chores and picking my grandson up from school. We have some time to kill before he gets back.”
“Sure, that would be great.” I did wonder why, if Adam was the real boss, Ted had been the one to hire me. Adam was the one I’d be taking orders from, and I still hadn’t met him. That made me nervous. “I don’t have much. Just two suitcases. Are we walking or driving?”
“Driving, but not far. We’ll take your car if you don’t mind.”
I drove with Ted riding shotgun. He took the opportunity to point out the various buildings as we went. “The training barn is to your left. That’s where you’ll spend most of your time. Your cottage is in walking distance, but don’t let anyone tell you that means you’re on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. You get weekends and vacation days. I expect you to use them.”
“Good to know.” I appreciated that, but I had the feeling I was going to ignore those expectations for the next few months, at least. I liked to play hard as much as the next person, but my idea of play was really just more work.
“The cabins aren’t spread out, but they’re situated in such a way as to afford everyone a little privacy. A few are empty. Braxton, my middle son, hasn’t stayed here since his mom passed. He does the books for us, but he lives in town. You’ll meet him for Sunday dinner. My youngest son, Zack, mostly spends his summer with the rodeo. He might be here for a couple of weekends now and then, but it’s possible you won’t see him until winter.”
We swung around behind the barn. I took note of some fencing that needed repairs, but the horses out to pasture looked healthy and content. That mattered a lot more to me.
“That’s the foaling barn over there. Empty right now. We had to let a few things slide when my wife got sick, and the breeding side of things was one of them. We’re hoping to get it up and running again in the next year.”
I nodded, making a sympathetic noise. He had told me that his wife died of cancer and what the repercussions of that were on the ranch. Ted had been very blunt about the fact that Lodestar wasn’t where he wanted it to be, financially or otherwise. My job was to help restore the ranch to its former glory. It wouldn’t be easy, but I was up for the challenge.
And I couldn’t wait to rub Dad’s face it in when I succeeded.
Ted gave me some time by myself to settle in and take a breath, telling me to meet him at the training barn in thirty minutes. I didn’t bother to unpack, instead using the time to take stock of what was here and what I’d need to find for myself.
The cabin was a good size for one person, with a sitting area, a bare-bones kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The couch looked new, and I definitely recognized the design from Ikea. No television, but I didn’t mind. My laptop would suffice for streaming shows and movies. There was a small table, built for two but could fit four if they squished. The bathroom didn’t have a tub, much to my disappointment, because I loved a good soak, but I could make do with a shower.
The kitchen had been stocked with the basics, Ted had told me, but I would need to go into town for groceries tomorrow. There were bananas, a loaf of bread, peanut butter, and a jar of strawberry jelly were laid out on the counter.
And the view. Holy shit, the view. Horses to the front. Mountains to the back.
I had died and gone to heaven.
I looked around, smiling. The cabin had clearly been tidied in anticipation of my arrival. No cobwebs in sight, and the bed linens were fresh. I had such a good feeling about this place. Sure, I had done my research on this place before accepting the position of head trainer. The high turnover rate did give me pause. But how bad could Adam really be when Ted was his dad?
I was about to find out.
I hustled over to the training ring with two minutes to spare. Ted was already there, along with a boy I assumed to be his grandkid. Another man leaned on the fence, his back to me, watching another man work a palomino on a longe line.
“Right on time,” Ted greeted me. Something about the way his eyes sparkled reminded me of a kid in a candy store. Mischief was written all over his face. “This is my grandson, Ben. Adam, meet your new head trainer.”
The man at the fence pushed back, straightening to his full height, and turned around.
The smile I had been aiming at Ben evaporated from my face, my earlier feelings of well-being replaced with dawning horror.
Oh, no.
It was him. The guy from the coffee shop. The one I unintentionally assaulted with my mouth.
He was a mountain of a man, from his broad shoulders to his scruffy jaw, sharp as the jagged peaks that surrounded us. Dark hair grown a little long, like maybe he had forgotten to get a haircut. Blue eyes under furrowed brows. Scowling. Of course he was scowling.
Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
“Adam, this is James Campos,” Ted said, making the introductions. His voice sounded odd, like he was holding back a laugh. “James, this is my son, Adam. You’ll be reporting to him. In the ring there is Blaine Weatherspoon, your second in command.”
I nodded to the Black man, who lifted a hand in greeting.
“No,” Adam said. Angrily, but with a hint of desperation, like he was trying to wake himself out of a nightmare.
Same, buddy. Same.
Ted burst out laughing. I blinked at him, confused. “He thought you were a man,” he explained. “Wouldn’t let me tell him otherwise, in fact. Lordy, the look on his face right now.” Ted clutched his stomach as he doubled over, chuckling.
I suspected that the look on Adam’s face had more to do with the coffee shop incident than my gender, but who was I to ruin the man’s fun? I arched a brow at Adam. “Did you, now?”
“That’s not—I don’t—” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dammit, Dad.”
“Language, son. There’s a lady present.” Ted could barely get the words out before he was laughing again.
His laughter was contagious, so I joined in. Adam did not join in. He continued to scowl. That, I decided, was his problem.
“Tell me about the horse,” I said.
He looked at me like he wanted to refuse, but he nodded. “Belle. She’s four years old. Impeccable bloodlines. We’re hoping she will be the foundation of our breeding program here.”
Blaine brought her over. I pulled a carrot out of my windbreaker and offered it to her on my palm. She lipped it up, her velvety muzzle tickling my skin.
“She’s gorgeous.” Even though I knew the coat didn’t make the horse, I had a soft spot for palominos. Kinda like the way men preferred blondes.
“Yeah, well, she needs to be more than gorgeous to be a good dam,” Adam said, like he was telling me something I didn’t know. “She needs to be a winner. And so far, that hasn’t happened.”
“She’s unrideable,” Blaine cut in. “If she can’t be ridden, she can’t win. I’ll get her tacked up so you can see for yourself.” The glint in his eyes told me he wouldn’t be unopposed to seeing me hit the dirt. I didn’t take it personally. A little hazing was normal in tight-knit communities.
“Gee, thanks,” I said drily. “But that won’t be necessary.”
“Is it because you don’t want to get your boots dirty?” Ben asked, earning a frown from his dad and a smirk from Blaine.
I turned to look at him, sizing him up before I responded. He was tall for his age, and I was short for mine, which put us not quite eye-to-eye. I had a few inches on him. Thanks to my height, kids often saw me as one of them, and they often talked to me as such. What might sound disrespectful was often just sincerity. On the other hand, some kids were just assholes. But I had the feeling Ben wasn’t one of them.
“Nope. These boots were made for riding, same as yours.” I pointed to his boots, noting the emblem on the ankle. “Ariats?”
“Yeah.” His eyes were wide as he looked from my boots to his and back again, recognizing the similarities underneath the color differences.
“Mine, too.” I beamed at him. “I’m not going to ride Belle today, but when I do, I’ll probably be wearing these boots. The thing is, though, Blaine just told me she’s unrideable and I believe him.”
“You should.” Ben looked very serious. “She’d dust you pretty quick. You’re not very big.”
Adam twitched, grimacing, his gaze darting between Ben and me. He nudged his son’s shoulder. “You can’t say things like that, Ben,” he said quietly. “You don’t want to hurt her feelings, right?”
Ben shot me a worried look and I smiled. “It’s okay. I don’t mind it when you tell me the truth.”
“Uncle Zack says the truth is like jalapenos. It’s all right, in small doses, but there’s no need to go throwing handfuls around where it isn’t wanted.”
I choked on a laugh. Uncle Zack seemed like an interesting character.
“Belle’s not unrideable,” Adam said, his voice riding the line between patient and exasperated. “We just haven’t figured her out yet.”
I liked that. He hadn’t given up on her. She was a puzzle that needed to be solved.
“The last trainer called her a man-eater,” Ben said.
I laughed and gave him a conspiratorial wink. “Then it’s a good thing I’m a woman.” I turned back to Blaine, who was scratching Belle behind the ear. “She doesn’t bite or kick?”
“Nah, she likes people. Just doesn’t like them on her back.”
“Huh.” That was interesting. With horses, a bad attitude wasn’t usually constrained to riding. Still, I could see for myself that Blaine spoke the truth. She was high spirited and curious, and not at all vicious, at least with us all on the ground. “What do you make of that?”
Blaine straightened. “You want my opinion?”
I nodded. “Yeah, you must have some theories, having worked with her. Let’s hear them.”
“It’s who she is.” He fingered the nylon longe line thoughtfully. “We’ve gotten her a full health inspection. The vet can’t find anything wrong with her. No sore spots, nothin.’ It’s her nature. Some dogs don’t like to get wet, and even if you train them to swim, they’re never going to enjoy it. I figure it’s the same with Belle. Even if by some miracle you do get her to take a rider, she’s never going to love it. Not the way she needs to. Winners have spirit. They love their work. Belle?” He shook his head. “She just doesn’t have it.”
I took that in, not missing the worried looks Adam and Ted exchanged. They thought Blaine might be right. Maybe he was. Maybe Belle would never be a winner. Maybe I was about to fall flat on my face.
But I wasn’t about to let that stop me from trying.
I took hold of Belle’s halter, bringing her face closer to mine, letting her get a good whiff of my scent. “What do you say, girl? You want to find out?”
Her nostrils flared and she snuffled my neck, making me laugh.
I would take that as a yes.