Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
ZANE
I find Devin waiting for me in the barn on Thursday morning. Today will be his last lesson. He’ll be in Sacramento tomorrow and we leave for the well on Saturday. Given the time, or lack of it, he’s stepped up to the challenge I set him and is actually doing very well.
“How are you feeling today?”
“Like I fell off a horse yesterday.” He rolls his shoulder as if to ease it off. “I’ll be fine,” he says when he catches me watching him.
“Only six more times and you can call yourself a rider,” I tell him.
“What?” His thick dark brows draw together.
“They say it takes seven falls to make a horseman.”
“Yeah, I’ll pass, thanks,” he mutters, and I hide my smile as I reach for Bonnie’s saddle to hand to him. I think I’ve smiled more in these last few days than in the last few months. I don’t know what it is about Devin, but his dry quips amuse me.
He practices saddling Bonnie, doing a decent job and even managing to bridle her without fumbling too much.
He’s a quick learner. I stand back as he leads her out to the paddock and mounts with only a couple of hops.
He starts to walk her around, each time getting more direct with his cues so Bonnie responds quicker.
“That’s good, you’re doing well,” I say, and he sits taller and puffs his chest out a little, which is curious. He reins Bonnie in before me. He looks good on a horse and sits easily now, and he doesn’t seem frightened considering his initial wariness and that he took a fall yesterday.
“I wasn’t sure you’d want to get back on after yesterday,” I say, and he shrugs.
“I survived. I think it helped. I no longer need to wonder how far the ground is away from me. I know,” he says, and I chuckle slightly, unable to help myself.
He looks down at me, his arm resting across the horn as though he’s been riding for years.
Usually shorter than me, he now towers above, and his broad shoulders, dark hair, and beard make him look powerful and striking.
It’s intoxicating, and my skin prickles as my chest constricts. I swallow and manage to speak.
“Take Bonnie down to the bottom of the field and lope back.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Once he’s gone I suck in a breath, but the oversensitive feeling still remains. He does it well enough, but I send him off to practice a few more times.
“I think you’re ready,” I say when he returns for the last time.
“Thanks, boss.” He grins as he jumps down from Bonnie and stands in front of me. He’s now no longer towering over me, but the feeling still remains, and if anything is even stronger.
“You can untack Bonnie and put her out with the other horses. I need to check on Dad.”
“Sure.” I hear the confusion in his voice as I turn abruptly and walk off. The further away I get, the easier I can breathe, but the strange effect he’s just had on me doesn’t disappear, it just banks down, still an undercurrent of something I can’t recognize.
Even though it was an excuse to get away, I do check on Dad. His new meds are more stable and there haven’t been any more dizzy spells. I will worry about him while I’m away, but Arlene and Nova are here, and it’s only going to be three days.
Once the feed store is open for the day and I can see Devin is serving some customers, I head back over to the barns to clean them out.
I look around in surprise, as everything is already neat and tidy.
The stalls are swept out too. Devin must’ve done it.
I check the tack room and see Bonnie’s saddle and bridle have been hung up perfectly.
The feeling stirs again, and warmth floods through me, but I tamp it back down.
I glance over to the feed store where a customer is laughing at something Devin has said.
He’s good for business, and it’s almost a shame that he’s leaving in a few weeks.
Not that I’ve done anything about finding a replacement.
I’ll start that as soon as we return from the well.
I spend the rest of the day putting together some of the tools and materials we’ll need to take with us as well as feed for the horses and food for us.
Though there are some supplies already at the cabin.
We’ll take a few more, especially nonperishable goods and cans, as it never hurts to have a stock and the stuff we left last year might have spoiled.
I still find myself looking over at Devin, and several times he lifts his head and glances back at me. This time I no longer glower at him, only realizing that more often than not I’m smiling as he returns it back to me.
Mid-afternoon, he seeks me out to ask for an item a customer has asked for but we don’t stock.
“Ask Nova to add it to the next order,” I tell him, and he nods but doesn’t leave straight away.
“What’s this?” He points to the stuff I’ve been gathering together.
“We’re taking all this with us on Saturday,” I answer.
“On the horses?”
“Some of it, yes, but we’ll have Nova’s horse as a packhorse as well.”
“It looks like a lot. Can’t you use a truck? How did your ancestors get everything out there in the first place?”
“They used wagons.”
“Like horse-drawn wagons?”
“Yup.”
“Can’t we go by wagon? I quite like the idea of idly sitting there on the seat of a wagon, rolling along like some old western movie.”
“Too bad.” I chuckle as he pulls a mock disappointed face. “Most of the wagon trails have gone now, impassable after avalanches. It’s mostly a single track. Plus the wagons rotted away years ago, so horses it is, I’m afraid.”
“Are you sure you’re not saying this just to watch me spend hours in discomfort on the back of a horse?” He stretches a little to exaggerate being stiff, though he showed little sign of it after his lesson earlier.
“Darn, you’ve discovered my secret,” I quip back, unable to stop the corners of my mouth lifting.
“See, I’m onto you, boss,” he says, his voice richly dark and with a sparkle in his eyes and a flash of white teeth against his black beard. My stomach does a somersault, and I stand there looking at him trying to wrench my eyes away. There’s a crunch of tires in the yard.
“You have a customer,” I say, and he twists to look back over his shoulder. He nods and retreats to go and serve them. Once he’s gone, the air feels lighter somehow and my chest can move again. Maybe inviting him along to the well was a bad idea, but it’s too late to change it now.