16. Lincoln
lincoln
. . .
“You headed out for the night?” I called, leaning over the stall door as Bishop walked by. It was Friday, and we were five days into the first clinic. I’d had a rough start to my morning, and spending it with yearlings who’d only been haltered a handful of times hadn’t helped.
Neither had getting my ass thrown to the ground multiple times after some dipshit refused to listen when I told him to give his horse some slack on the lead rope. Instead, he’d tried to force his horse into submission, causing it to break away from him and give me one hell of a chase.
When we headed out for lunch, I’d gone straight to Bishop and told him that horse was one to watch. He had too much spirit to be stuck with someone who didn’t appreciate it.
He nodded but pulled a beer from the small cooler. He’d removed his chaps and spurs, leaving only a dusty t-shirt and Wranglers. “Got dinner waiting on me, but I saw your little bronc shower earlier,” he said, chuckling. “Thought you might need it more than I do. ”
“You won’t find me saying no.” I didn’t know what it was about a beer at the end of a long day, but goddamn, I felt the day’s stress melt away. “What a fucking week. Is it always like this?”
“Naw, but to be fair, this is the first year Doug’s divvied it up like this. He normally alternates the clinics, focusing on the newbies first and then switching to riders with more experience.” He gestured around the barn. “I’ve never seen the stalls this full. There’s a lot of excitement in the air, and the horses can sense that shit. Especially if their owners don’t know what the hell they’re doing.”
Patience had never been my strong suit. I’d sworn that if I could just make it through the day, I’d get myself and my attitude back on track next week.
Since I was new, Doug had put me in charge of the beginners. Most of these folk didn’t know their ass from their elbow, but I rated anyone willing to put their pride aside and do what was best for their animals pretty damn high.
It’d been so long since I’d trained anyone on anything that I was glad he hadn’t tossed me in the deep end. The seminars Doug ran were rare. No one had done what he’d done at this scale. Ranches across the country usually held three to four-day seminars throughout the year that focused on the basics of horsemanship, while others in the business focused on boarding and training the animal rather than teaching the owners how to do it.
While Doug did all of this throughout the year on the standard industry scale, he’d also seen an opportunity for an in-depth training program that went above and beyond what could be taught in three days. He saw the importance of focusing on the connection between a horse and its rider, how they could shape one another and form a truly remarkable bond.
I shook my head. “Fucking idiots, I swear.”
Bishop smiled and patted me on the back. “Yeah, but it’s your job to turn those idiots into bonafide cowboys. First week’s done, at least.”
“Thank fuck for that. I’m out of practice.”
“Don’t go all sappy on me, but you’ve done good—much better than I’d have done.”
I waggled my brows. “Bishop Bryant, is that a compliment?”
“Fuck off,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t have said a damn word. I take it back, you’re shit.”
I pointed my can in his direction. “There’s the grump I’ve come to know over the past week.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, heading out to his truck with a wave. “Lock up when you’re done, will ya?”
“Yes, sir!” I called after him. “I like a man who’ll tell me what to do.”
His reply came with a rev of his diesel engine and rocks kickin’ up as his tires spun down the gravel road.
There was a lot I liked about Bishop. We were about the same age and had similar tastes. We both liked cold beer, horses, and being left the hell alone. And he was committed to the cowboy way of life, waking up before the sun rose and going to bed long after it set.
He lived and breathed this ranch. Everything he did seemed to revolve around the sanctity of the land, these animals, and the people who ran it all.
“Well, I guess it’s just you and me, girl,” I said, returning to Sundance and giving her a good pat. “Or are you ready for me to leave you alone?”
My horse, Boots, was still in Tennessee. Frank’s trailer had been sitting in a field for God only knew how long. When I tried to hook it up, I discovered a whole family of rats who had apparently called it home for generations. The entire thing had needed to be re-wired, and I hadn’t had the time to sit around and wait. So, Bishop had assigned me a wired little filly named Sundance. Her coat was honeyed and sun-kissed, cut only by the dark chestnut stripe along her back and a white scar along her flank.
Sundance nudged my pocket, knowing damn well I kept a few peppermints on hand for her. I didn’t typically resort to bribery—it didn’t build the kind of relationship we were trying to foster here—but I didn’t have time. I needed her to trust me for the rest of the summer.
“Alright, alright,” I said, pulling out what was left and feeding them to her. “But that’s all for the day. No more until next week.”
She huffed and turned to face the wall. Point taken.
I finished my beer and cleaned up my area before heading out of the barn and locking up. My foot caught on something against the door, and I saw Bishop’s small cooler, so I pulled out my phone and shot him a text.
Lincoln:
You forgot your cooler. Want me to bring it to you?
Bishop:
Naw, you need it more than I do. Plus, I have a stocked fridge, and you live with a bunch of college rejects.
Fair enough. Who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth?
It was late enough that the stars had come out, twinkling against the deep purple sky, but I was in no rush to get back to the bunkhouse.
The guys I shared with were nice enough, but Bishop was right. I had a good ten years on most of them. It’d be a rowdy shit show by the time I got back, and I didn’t want to deal with that tonight.
Tonight, I wanted a fraction of the peace I’d been searching for since Josie Hayes stumbled into my life.
Grabbing the cooler, I made my way to the white iron fence surrounding the area. It allowed for a perfect view of the main back pasture against the last dregs of sunlight. I could just barely make out the silhouettes of happily grazing cattle.
“Must be nice,” I muttered, reaching into the cooler and pulling out a cold can. “Y’all don’t have to worry about shit.”
I’d tried my best to give Josie her space. Really, I had. And I had every intention of keeping it that way until she stepped out of the house on Wednesday with two mugs of coffee when she’d been adamant about avoiding me like the damn plague.
Luckily, it’d given me one hell of an opening for a little gesture to show her I’d learned more about her than she thought. Though, it’d meant I had to bribe Bishop to pick up some essentials for me, which turned me into the laughingstock of the ranch for the remainder of the week.
Apparently, cowboys weren’t supposed to drink oat milk.
It’d all been worth it when I’d seen the look of surprise on her pretty face the next morning when I brought her a steaming cup just the way she liked it. It shouldn’t have made my chest ache the way it did. After all, it was just basic decency. Surely her fancy pants boyfriend did things like this, right?
For my sake, I hoped not, but for hers?
God, I hoped he did.
There were nights I still sat around and thought about how her voice wavered when she told me why she’d driven to Tennessee or how she thought she had a list of flaws a mile long.
Shit, flaws were what made a person who they were. If we were all perfect and life was cookie-cutter, would it be worth living? Besides, they were subjective. No matter how hard I’d tried over the years, the only fault I found in Josie was how she left.
I couldn’t exactly blame her, though. Not after what she’d told me about her exes. And she’d been clear she hadn’t been looking for anything serious. At the time, neither had I .
But sometimes, when you know, you know. And I knew Josie was it for me, even if I wasn’t it for her.
I finished the remnants of my second beer when a frustrated groan and a loud whack broke the quiet summer silence. I looked around, not finding anything out of place. It could’ve just been one of the ranch hands screwing off. Bishop told me they liked to light a bonfire on the weekends sometimes to blow off steam.
But then it happened again, and this time, it was distinct. I heard the pain and heartbreak and frustration boil over into one angry scream before the sound of splitting wood followed.
Josie .
I didn’t think before I moved, jumping down and racing across the dirt road to the large shed off the corner of the barn. The light above the shed was dim, flickering in and out like lightning bugs in June. Her face was cast in shadow, and I couldn’t read her expression. She stood there, staring down at the half-cracked log like it’d done something to personally offend her before pulling the axe out and swinging it down again.
This time, it split, falling to the side. Josie kicked it over and reached for another log, this one thicker than the last. She adjusted her hands, wringing them against the worn handle before bringing it down with a harrowing cry.
“Stupid piece of shit,” she mumbled, wiping at her nose. “What good are you if you can’t even do your fucking job?”
I told myself she didn’t need some cowboy riding in to save the day, but there were only a few times in my life I’d heard someone in that level of pain, and none of them had been good.
Maybe I would’ve stayed away, content to watch from the sidelines and remain in the shadows, if she hadn’t dropped the weapon at her side and crumbled to her knees.
Fuck this.
I took off at a jog, startling her as I slid to a stop beside her. “Josie, baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” Her big grey eyes were wide and puffy, staring through me like she wasn’t seeing me. She hiccuped as tear tracks ran down her cheeks like rivers. “Are you okay?”
Josie blinked slowly, and I saw the moment the world around her came back into focus, and her demeanor shifted. She wiped at her nose again, the sleeve of her t-shirt coming away wet. “I’m fine,” she bit out. “Show’s over. You can go home now.”
I leaned back on my haunches, giving her only a taste of the space she thought she wanted. “I’m not going anywhere, darlin’. Not until you tell me what happened.” I moved instinctually, reaching out and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you okay?” I repeated the question, knowing it was dumb but asking anyway.
She laughed, but the sound was bitter. “Why do you even care, Lincoln?” Her hands dropped to her lap. “I don’t deserve your kindness. I left you without so much as a goodbye. What kind of person does that?”
I had to control my temper, knowing it wouldn’t do her a damn bit of good if I let it show. Not that it was aimed at her. No, it was aimed at whatever piece of shit had made her question her worth.
“Don’t start that shit, Josie. Not right now. Not when I can tell you’ve had a rough day. I don’t need a motive to make sure you’re okay, and whoever the person is that made you think that deserves their fucking ass beat.”
Josie blew out a long breath. “Well, it’s a long list. I don’t think you’ll have enough time to get through it before you pack it up for Tennessee.” There was a note of bitterness as she spat the word.
I wanted to tell her I didn’t want to go back, that I’d give it up for her right here and now, but she didn’t need me to come in with that. She needed a friend—a shoulder to cry on—and I’d be whatever she needed me to be.
“Tell me something… Why’re you so dead set on keeping me at arm’s length? I’m trying to be your friend. I sure as hell don’t se e anyone else here.” Regret coursed through my veins the moment the words left my tongue. I wanted to take them back. I’d never been good with my words and hadn’t ever needed to be.
“I don’t have many friends,” she whispered, toying with the hem of her shirt. “Not unless you count my family, but I don’t think they count, do you? Because family is obligated to be there for one another.” Her gaze flicked down to her hands. “People don’t stay around for me often unless there’s something in it for them. Every friend I’ve made, every boyfriend I’ve been with, they’ve only seen me as a bargaining chip—for money, for success, for my dad’s fucking autograph. You name it.” Her voice broke, and a new tear fell. “That’s what I’m worth. Fuck all.”
It was a sucker punch to my fucking gut. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do a goddamn thing but stare at Josie with parted lips. The worst part was how I could tell she believed every word she said. To her, it was a fact—a way of life. There wasn’t a thing I could say that would change her mind.
Not tonight, at least.
No, the only way to make Josie Hayes believe she’s worth more than the land we stood on was to show up for her every day.
But she’d taken my silence as confirmation. “See? You can’t even deny it.”
I shook my head, inching closer until my knees brushed her own. “Baby, I’d tell you you were wrong every day if you’d let me, but that isn’t what you need. You don’t need me to convince you of your worth. You’ve got to do that shit yourself.”
“I can’t?—”
“You can.” This time, I reached out and took her hand. She watched me, chest heaving, as I intertwined our fingers. I held my breath, counting the seconds and wondering if she’d pull away. She didn’t. “You can’t base your own value on the words and actions of others because there are some shitty people in this world who’ll take advantage of that. They’ll put you down to make themselves feel in control and step on you to get what they want. You’ve got to remember that at the end of the day, you’re the one who gives them that power.”
Josie launched herself at me, settling between my knees as she hugged my neck. With each ragged exhale, I could smell the whiskey on her breath and only held her tighter.
“Break, Josie,” I whispered, running my hand along her back in slow circles. She shook her head, refusing to let herself cry. Her body was rigid, holding tension in every muscle. “I’ve got you, darlin’. Go ahead and break so you can put yourself back together.”
“I don’t know how.”
“I said I’ve got you, and I meant it. We’ll pick up the pieces together. You’re not alone.”
She sniffled, voice shaking as she said, “I don’t deserve you. As a friend, as more…”
“We’re not talking about me, darlin’. This is all about you.” I ran my hand up, smoothing down her hair. Josie leaned deeper into my touch. “I just wanna help you .”
Hot tears fell against my skin within moments, her shoulders shaking with heart-crushing sobs. I pulled her closer, tightening my grip around her waist. Her body fit perfectly against my own.
We didn’t talk, but I let her cry.
I let her cry until my shirt was soaked, until I felt her muscles relax when she slumped against my chest. I let her cry until her breathing returned to normal, and she softly ran her fingers against my neck.
When I loosened my grip, Josie sat back on her haunches. Her palms slid over my shoulders to my chest, lips parted. My hands fell to her hips, lingering there even though I knew they shouldn’t.
The stars in the sky had nothing on her. She was a mess—a beautiful fucking mess I wanted to get lost in.
“You’re a good man, Lincoln Carter.” I couldn’t shake the stupid grin that spread across my lips, and she tilted her head. “What?”
“It’s nothing,” I said.”
“Tell me anyway.”
My fingers hooked into her belt loops, and I gave a little tug. “I like it when you say my name.”
Her storm-colored eyes dropped to my lips. “I think I like it, too.” It was a soft admission, one she purposely kept low, as though she was scared of what would happen if she didn’t.
Tonight wasn’t about me or my feelings. It wasn’t about showing Josie I was better than all the other fuckers she’d tangled with over the years. But damn, if it didn’t make my hope soar to new heights, even if I knew it’d be gone by morning.
And then I was stupid. Utterly reckless.
I leaned in, brushing my lips across her forehead in a ghost of a kiss—a promise of the future and the haunting of our past crossing paths right before us.
Josie closed her eyes, letting loose a soft sigh that nearly broke my resolve. I wanted to blaze a path down her cheeks and wipe away every mascara stain with my tongue. I wanted to erase every tear she’d ever shed with promises of a future worth living.
But I didn’t get the chance, not as we heard her father call her name and the sound of crunching gravel under footfall.
Josie jumped up, distancing herself as Doug walked around the corner. “Everything okay, here?” he asked.
She smiled, and it was almost convincing. I wondered how long she’d had to practice that, how long she’d been hiding her feelings from those around her. “Yeah, I saw Lincoln out here chopping wood, so I thought I’d see if he needed anything.” She looked down at me. “You good?”
I dropped my head, knowing whatever we shared had already shattered. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll finish up here in just a minute.”
Doug said something, but I couldn’t hear him. Or maybe I didn’t care to. I wasn’t able to put up my mask the way Josie could.
It wasn’t until she stepped beside me, letting her hand linger on my shoulder, that I knew we were alone again. “Thank you, Lincoln. For everything.”
And then she walked away, leaving me kneeling in the dirt and wondering what the hell I was doing in Texas.