Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
T he ranch was bustling, and Lance was trying not to laugh his ass off at everyone as they all milled around, waiting for the last horse to get saddled.
Boone had convinced the old housemate crew to go riding with him, and he was busy putting on a fancy-ass saddle for Chris, who needed to strap in to keep his seat.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Brick repeated.
He seemed way more worried than him and Chris. Stan had decided to skip the riding trip, doing lessons in the paddock with another hand, instead.
“Aren’t you worried, Lance?” Brick asked. “I mean, you’re blind.”
“Boone’s a pro, man. Seriously. I’ve been out with him a lot of times.
” He and Boone had been out in the wild yonder beyond the inner paddock half a dozen times.
And Boone didn’t have to lead Chris or Brick’s horses.
Just his. Not that the guy wouldn’t put them all on a horse-to-horse lead if need be. Maybe that wasn’t a bad idea.
“Would you feel better if we were all hooked together? Boone did that with me and Stan the other day on our mini trail ride.”
“Boone?” Brick asked.
“I can pony Lance, but I wouldn’t want to hook everyone up. Belle is a great lead mare, but Hagar is likely to kick if someone gets too close to his butt. You’re a good rider now, Brick. And Lance and Chris have trail experience too. Do you want me to get another hand?”
“No. No, I know you’re rated for up to five riders…” Brick chuckled. “I’m just a nervous nellie. Driving? Sure. Swimming? On it. Horses? Yikes.”
“You have your legs and your eyes, man. You are golden.” Chris was laughing at Brick. “Swimming has to be way harder.”
“Nah, I have a paddle glove thing that goes on my fake hand, asshole.”
“Okay. Let’s get Chris up and over, gents.”
Lance had to grin. Boone had made them all learn, including him, how to get Chris on and off his horse. The rest of them weren’t tied down, so to speak, so even Lance had a bit of an advantage over Chris. Chris knew how to release himself in case of emergency and make a jump for it, but ugh.
He could hold on and know the horse would eventually head for home and shelter and food. He had to be patient.
Patience was his new middle name.
Horses wanted their familiar stuff. Just like dogs and people.
“Okay, y’all,” Boone said once Chris was up. “Let’s get Lance up next, and then you last, Brick. I want Lance to practice holding his mount in place.”
“Sure.” Lance could so do that. Binky, the gelding he usually rode, was as gentle as a mouse.
“Okay, cool. Here we are.” Like they always did, Boone led him to Binky, putting his hand on the horse’s side.
He felt his way along, murmuring, and checked the girth and the stirrup.
Then he got his boot in the stirrup and swung up.
He was used to the way Binky moved now, stamping and swishing his tail.
He sat with the reins in his hands, waiting for them all to get mounted. He would have the reins, as always, but Boone would also have a long lead on Binky, just in case.
“Okay, we’re all up. Let’s head out. Brick, I need you to take up the rear, but keep a good half a length behind Chris, okay?”
“You got it. Are we going somewhere cool?”
“Down to a stream that runs along the back of one of the main pastures. Much nicer than a stock tank or a bass pond.” He could hear the laughter in Boone’s voice.
“That sounds good.” Now that Brick was up on the horse he sounded happier, more relaxed, and Lance was glad for it.
He still wasn’t one hundred percent sure on this whole horse therapy thing, but he did know it was good exercise. He used muscles he didn’t know he needed to, sure, but not only that, it was good brain work. He had to pay attention; he had to focus on the horse. He had to steer. So many variables.
Mainly though, it was great to be outside in the sun and the wind doing something new and something he’d probably never do again.
Sloan was not a horse guy. Not really.
Dogs, yes. Chickens? Lance could see that. Even those goats, maybe. But he wasn’t a rancher.
The wind blew hot in that way it could be in late autumn in Texas. So hot it kind of made his nose hairs want to curl up and die.
At least it wasn’t still, he figured. That breeze was what made it bearable out here in the sun.
“Where are you, Lance?” Boone’s voice was sharp. “You gotta pay attention. No daydreaming. ”
His cheeks were on fire. “All right, sorry, boss.”
“I know as warm as it is out here, it’s easy to just get into the motion of the horse, kind of doze off a little bit. But I need you focused here. I need you thinking. I need you completely on this.”
He nodded like he was riding the rodeo. “On it. I got you, I promise.”
“Somebody’s getting in trouble,” Chris singsonged, and that made them all crack up.
Boone blew out a near-aggravated breath. “No, the whole point here is not being in trouble, right?”
There was a pause in the conversation before Brick spoke up. “How on earth did you come into this shit, Boone?”
“Pure dumb luck and a little coercion.” Boone’s chuckle was full of mirth.
“I’m one of Matt’s friends. We were sitting one night, bullshitting and playing dominoes, I think.
He was telling me about his brother. Him and Luke were just starting this place up then, and he was talking about how it was building Luke up, how the work helped. ”
They bobbed along for a few, Boone murmuring to his mount, to Lance’s.
“At any rate, I was fascinated by all the plans and all the thoughts. He was talking about hiring a horse guy, and I thought, shit, if I can get in on the bottom level of this, I could make myself something to be proud of. So I told Luke. I said, why you have to go hiring outside? You could hire inside. I’m right here. ”
There was something in Boone’s voice, something curious that Lance couldn’t quite grasp. He wasn’t sure what that meant, that hint of…it sounded like wanting to him. Like needing? Lance didn’t know.
Whatever it was, it was fascinating as all get-out.
Chris piped up with, “Do you have a ranch of your own?” and Lance lost whatever he was following .
“I got a piece of land attached to this one. I even got a gate between us so I don’t have to go around my elbow to get to my ass. Mainly what I do is horses. I’ve got these guys. They live here, and I’ve got a couple of cutting horses. That’s my other job—breeding cutting horses.”
They started down a little incline. Lance could feel it in his hips as they rolled a bit, and he had to try tensing his abs and not clenching his thighs. That was the hard part because that was what his body wanted to do.
“Good job. Good job, Lance. You got this, you’re doing it,” Boone praised him.
“What about me, teach?” Chris hollered. “Tell me I’m doing good.”
Boone groaned, but the sound was filled with laughter. “Don’t make me beat you, son, because I sure will.”
The smile in Boone’s voice suited him to the bone.
They rode on, chatting together, and it had to have been close to an hour, maybe longer.
Lance wasn’t quite brave enough to check his watch to find out, which was stupid, but he was trying to focus, dammit.
One way or the other, it felt like forever.
He wasn’t sure how far a horse could go in an hour, but they had to be way into the property. It didn’t matter.
It was peaceful and fun. They were bullshitting, telling stories. The humidity hadn’t let up, but the sun had some clouds covering it, giving them a bit of relief from the direct heat.
“Are we getting close to the stream, man?” He was dry as the bone. He needed a drink.
“Another ten minutes or so. This is smack dab in the middle of the property.”
“Yeah, okay.” He shook his head, sweat sliding down the back of his neck. “I need a drink. ”
“You’ve got water right there. In your saddlebag, just reach down and get it.”
That made sense, sure, but Lance didn’t think he could do it. That just seemed like a bridge too far—to lean over.
“Come on. You can do it. Cowboy up.” Brick’s words made his teeth set, and he damn near growled.
Okay, he could do this.
He could.
Lance stretched to the left, his fingers finding the little buckle. It was like a belt buckle, easy-peasy, loose and well-worn. It wasn’t difficult to snatch it out and open the top, and sure enough there was the bottle and he was going to fall.
He knew he was going to fall.
He could feel himself sliding off the horse, then his fingers found the top of the water bottle. He hauled himself back up, his heart racing, a cold sweat covered him.
“There you go. Good job.”
Like it was nothing. Like it wasn’t just the whole entire fucking world right there.
He breathed deep, trying to settle himself, and frowned, because he could swear he smelled rain, and he could feel a hint of coolness in the breeze all of a sudden.
“Boone, do you?—”
“Shit. I don’t like the looks of those clouds, guys.” Boone cut him off with that.
Lance sniffed hard. “What do they look like?”
“Trouble,” he heard Boone mutter. “We need to find some cover.”
“Well, I’ll totally keep my eyes peeled,” he shot back.
“Sarcasm is not helping right now. Shut up.” Brick sounded panicked. “Where’s that stream? Surely there’s trees and cover around the stream?”
“Yeah, yeah, I think Brick’s right. We’re going to have to run, though. ”
Lance’s eyes went wide. “I don’t know how to run on a horse, man.”
“You just hold on, stay calm. You’re tethered to me.
Chris, Brick—are you listening? These horses are trained.
Both of you, I need you to shift your hips and kind of give him a little whap, not hard, with the reins and tell him ‘go’.
They know this. They’ll follow me if they know you’re ready. Are you with me?”
“Don’t worry, Boone, I won’t let anything happen to Chris,” Brick said.
“And I won’t let anything happen to Brick. You know he only has one hand,” Chris shot back.
“Guys, please. Pay attention.”
Lance tilted his head. This was bad. That wasn’t teasing. This wasn’t the easy calm that he was used to hearing from Boone. This was terrible.
The tension in Boone’s voice—he was trying to seem okay and he was absolutely not all right. He was scared.
“I think that now is a good time to go. I’m holding on.” Lance nodded and figured he looked terrified, but it didn’t matter because Boone had to be watching ahead.
“Let’s move, cowboys.”
All of the sudden his butt started bouncing more.
And then even more.
He stopped even trying really, to hold on to the reins. The best he could do was grab hold of the horn of the saddle with both hands and pull his toes up to keep his boots in the stirrups.
He’d never felt anything like this. He thought about closing his eyes, but it didn’t matter, did it, if his eyes were opened or closed. The light was nauseating, the dark was terrifying, and he had to trust that Boone had this.
Because God knew he didn’t have it.
A crack of thunder made him jump, and one of the horses whinnied. Yeah, that was making the hair stand up on his fucking head.
“Hold on!” Boone shouted, and rain slapped against him, cold as hell, taking his breath. Jesus, the air temp had to have dropped twenty degrees.
“Shit!” Chris’s voice was tinged with utter panic.
“Hold it together,” Brick snapped. “You got this.”
“I don’t got this.”
Lance didn’t say a word. He was focused. Present. Paying attention. Keeping his butt in the saddle. He was not going to be the reason all of this went to hell. He was not.
Every bone in his body jostled as they ran, and he held on to the horn with all of his might, not daring to loosen up even the least little bit, because all he could imagine was the rain getting between his skin and the leather of the horn, and it would all go to hell. He knew this.
Mud splashed on his jeans. Or maybe it was the rain. He didn’t know.
He knew he was soaked to the skin. He knew that.
Lance felt a mixture of standing-up hairs and goosebumps. His balls were trying to crawl into his body because they were getting smashed on the damn saddle. When he felt that, he realized he needed to sit up, that he was crunching over like he was hiding.
It was so fucking loud. How was the world so goddamn loud?
Between the splash of the hooves on the mud and the rain coming down and the thunder, it was like the world’s most fucked-up symphony. He swore he could hear the clouds crashing into each other and the screaming from Boone and Chris. Not to mention his own heartbeat, which was incredible and huge.
Underneath it all was this wild squeaking under his ass, of the denim on the leather. Why did leather squeak like that? It was maddening, and he was going to have blisters on his thighs.
And why the hell was he on a horse in a rainstorm? He couldn’t see!
Lance forced himself to take a deep breath. Buck up, soldier. You get your shit together right now.
That actually worked. So he sucked in another breath, even if it was wet and tasted like dirt. He’d worry about that later.
“Boone!” Brick shouted. “I see the trees! They’re right there!”
“That’s where we’re heading. Y’all follow me.”
They turned, he thought, to the right—that was what his body told him, anyway—and the splashing got thicker somehow. Less like water hitting water and more like a spoon hitting oatmeal.
You got this. They were going to get to these trees, they were going to stop, they were going to regroup. They were going to wait out the storm, because it was just a storm.
Just a normal late autumn squall.
If he was home, he wouldn’t even care.
He heard the rumble of a long, black train, that was shattered by something—a snap? A bang? The noise was something that his cells knew, but his brain couldn’t parse.
Then there was a light so bright it burned into him for a split second, and suddenly he was flying.
Soaring through the air.
The last thought he had before he hit the dirt was, at least it wasn’t hot. The bomb had been hot. This was better.