Chapter 2
CASSIDY
Briar stood beside me, both of us leaned up against the railing. She smelled like a river after freshly fallen rain, as stormy as the world that swirled behind her eyes. As terrified and chaotic as the horse that had yet to stop running circles around the round pen.
A few minutes before we’d released the horse, I’d quickly sent away the next top hand and Weston’s best friend, Cash, with instructions on the chores and preparations needed to be finished today. Here we were, at least an hour later—sixty minutes into simply watching the stallion stampeding like a cornered and crazed animal, and the ruts he was digging with his hooves were only getting deeper.
“What d’ya call him?” I asked, glancing away from the glistening bay with wounds and scars all across his body that left me with a sour taste in my mouth. And even more questions.
“I haven’t given him a name yet,” she muttered, tucking some ashy blonde hair that shone in the honey-hued sunlight behind her ear. My eyes traced down to the tip of the braid that brushed clear past her belt, dipping to the back of her thighs. Mmmmm….
“How old is he?”
“I don’t actually know. Maybe three or four.”
“How long have you had him?”
“Uh, two days.”
“Where’d you get him?”
She suddenly whipped toward me, shoving a hand on her hip. “What’s with the third degree? Stop asking questions and just fix him.”
I pushed off from the rail and stepped toward her, nearly flush with her body, and glared down at her. “I’m asking these questions so I can help him. Now, tell me what you know about this horse, or take him and get out.”
Her eyes widened, so round that they nearly bugged out of her head. The shadow of my entire body swamped hers; despite her being tall—maybe nearly six foot—I was still taller. And whatever look she was giving me, I was struggling to interpret as everything in my body swam with warmth.
“I-I-I—” she stuttered, words not coming out of her mouth as I tipped my head to one side. Her brows twitched, furrowing together, and then she subconsciously mirrored my movement. Hot breath escaped her lips slowly, mixing with the summer air and washing over my neck. Goosebumps erupted on my skin, driving me a little mad in all the right ways.
“You…what?” I drawled, tipping my head the other way.
She followed suit, and her lips parted slightly. “I-I don’t know much about him.”
“Hmmm.” I raised a single brow, straightened my head, and smirked. Her chest rose abruptly, and my stomach swirled with the tightening of a cinch that had unintentionally locked us together.
Stepping back, I turned away, inhaling sharply. What was that, Cassidy?
“So, what do you know?” I leaned back against the rail, entwining my fingers as the horse finally slowed to at least a trot, huffing hard.
“If I tell you, you promise you’ll help?” she quietly asked beside me.
“I already promised that, Goldie, so nothing you’re going to say will cause me to go back on my word.”
“He’s been abused since I found out about him three or four years ago. The only reason he’s not emaciated is because he was used to sire several foals, and well, he brought in money, so he was at least given plenty of feed.”
“Money for who?” I asked, lifting a brow as the horse slowed even more.
“Doesn’t matter anymore,” she snapped. “You’ll be able to help him, right?”
Man, that attitude was going to be the death of me. “I’ll do my best.”
“Oh.” She sighed heavily beside me, and I glanced at her hesitantly, keeping my own strange feelings in check. “I don’t have any money to pay you.”
The sunlight danced across her dewy, golden skin; her thumb ran back and forth over callouses on the palms of her hands. This girl knew work, and had known work for a long time. She sucked in a cheek, tightening the softness on her face.
“I can work off whatever I’ll owe you for training him. I grew up around cattle, ranching with my dad. Or I can do regular chores like mucking out stalls or—”
“We’re supposed to take the cattle up to summer pasture in a few days,” I said, cutting her off, and glanced back at the horse that was walking slowly around the round pen, digging on the ground. “It’s typically a two-day trip until we drive them up to the next one, which will give this guy time to settle in. I’ll have my brother or someone make sure he’s given hay and water while we are gone. You can prove to me that you know what you’re doing during chores and the cattle drive. How’s that sound?”
She nodded vigorously, a tight smile creeping over her gentle face.
“I can’t have you staying in the bunkhouse with the guys, so I’ll chat with my mom, but I bet you can stay at the main house in my old room.” I paused and faced her, staring intensely at her. Her smile faltered. “Is there anything else I should know, Briar with no last name?”
Her inhale was shaky, and she looked away from me. “No,” she whispered, refusing to meet my eye.
Lie.
“Alright, do you have your clothes and stuff?” I asked, wanting to pry more, but the fear that still laced her eyes had me holding my tongue.
“Yes,” she answered. “Thank you!”
I glanced back at the stallion that pawed at the dirt, sweat glistening on his dull coat. Her footsteps receded from beside me. I wasn’t technically supposed to hire someone without Weston’s consent, but he would let this slide, right? If I explained what was going on, he’d have to. It wasn’t like Weston to not help someone when they needed it.
Plus, I couldn’t let this horse leave without giving him a chance. He looked terrified, and while he was well muscled with his eyes and ears on constant swivel, everything else looked lifeless. At least whatever he’d been through, whatever abuse he’d suffered hadn’t turned him off completely. That was a start and something that I could work with.
Horses that were already checked out entirely, shut down, were that much harder to break through with. Because the only way to start was to get them to confront the mistreatment and terror they’d been facing. This guy seemed still lost in the midst of it.
Something that I would hopefully be able to show was no longer happening.
I wasn’t one to trust people as quickly as I did Briar. However, maybe it wasn’t trust. It was the fact that she was willing to ask for help despite knowing that she could end up in prison if I believed she was the one to abuse the animal. That was what had me shoving any doubt about her down.
Besides, I liked her feisty attitude, even if it was a defense mechanism right now.
The stallion finally stopped moving completely and turned toward me, his eyes connecting with mine.
I propped a boot up on the bottom rail, watching him. Studying him. Eyes, as black as coal, filled with a dark desperation to escape.
“I got my stuff,” Briar called out, and I glanced away from the horse as she walked my way with a duffel slung over her shoulder. That was it? Only a duffel full of clothes? I thought women packed like hoarders.
Suddenly, pressure kicked against the back of my weight-bearing leg, and my knee buckled out from under me. I crashed against the ground, dirt clouding up around me, with a groan escaping my throat.
A low chuckle met my ears, and I looked in the opposite direction of Briar—who was fighting a grin herself.
“Seriously?” I grumbled as Weston walked by with his hands in his pockets.
“She’s staying?” he asked, nodding toward the girl, ignoring my question.
“Yeah, for a bit.”
“This her horse?”
“Yes, that’s my horse,” Briar interrupted, and I slid my upside down gaze to her. She grinned wickedly, as if I was owed this torture from Weston.
“She’ll be coming on the cattle drive, too,” I added, and the smirk quickly fell from Weston’s lips. Pulling my legs under me, standing upright, I brushed off some of the dirt from my jeans.
Weston didn’t say a thing as his blue eyes snapped to Briar and then back to me. I shook some dust from my hair and pulled off my hat, patting the debris from the brim. “If she doesn’t do well, she’s gone,” I quickly added.
My brother sucked in some air. “She’s your responsibility,” he stated and walked away.
“Yes, sir!” I saluted him behind his back.
“Cassidy,” Weston grumbled a warning.
I chuckled as he kept moving and eventually disappeared into the barn.
“Alright, Goldie, follow me.” I shoved my hat back on my head, stuffed my hands in my pockets, and started down the path toward the main house over yonder.
“I have a name,” she mumbled, following along.
“I know that.”
“So use it.”
“Quit giving me attitude.”
“I’ll give you all the attitude I want.”
“Like I said once before, you’re a golden ray of sunshine.”
“Jerkface.”
“Sassy pants.”
“Butthead.”
I smiled to myself, taking the porch steps in stride. “Maybe I’ll have you sleep in the bunkhouse since you’re acting like the rest of the hands.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she answered as I pulled open the front door. The porch chairs beside the entrance rocked in the light summer breeze.
“Try me.” I tugged my hat off my head and held the door as she stepped inside. The windows were open, fresh air dancing through what appeared to be an empty first floor.
“Mama?” I called out, and footsteps slowly clambered down the stairs. Briar’s eyes wandered around the house, scanning over the living area to the right, the fireplace lacking a flame for months now. The rug was clean, and the countertops at the far end of the massive open floor plan were sparkling. Any remnants of breakfast were long gone.
“Cassidy,” my mom said, her socks landing at the base of the stairs to my left. She smiled, and her brows raised as they scanned Briar standing quietly beside me.
“I know that Tyson’s girlfriend is staying in Remington’s old room while Tyson stays with his parents, so I was hoping Briar could stay here in my old room,” I said.
My mom lifted a smile, smoothing out her hair. “Briar, that’s a pretty name.”
“Thank you,” Briar answered, tugging the duffel tighter up her shoulder.
“Normally, I’d say yes. But Tenley’s mom is coming tomorrow, and she will be staying there until Tenley has the baby,” my mom answered.
“Can’t she stay with Weston and Tenley?” I asked.
“They’ve turned the second room into a nursery, you know that.”
“Right,” I muttered. That meant that Remington’s old room was occupied by his son’s girlfriend, and the guest room was claimed by Rosemary. Weston’s entire house was eliminated, so what else was there? “Oh, what about Pearl’s old room here?”
“My craft room? There’s not a bed in there anymore.”
“Then Weston’s?”
“We knocked that wall down years ago, don’t you remember?”
“Well…yeah,” I grumbled, running a hand over my face and sighing.
“You have an extra room in your new house,” my mom quickly added, and I glanced at her. She grinned wickedly, a scheme forming behind her gaze. I wanted to argue, to debate with her, but honestly, she wasn’t wrong. It seemed that was literally the only option unless I wanted to send Briar to the wolves by being the only girl staying in the bunkhouse.
“No,” Briar gasped under her breath. I slid my gaze to her but kept everything on my face as blank as possible.
I had just gotten away from sharing my living space with others, and now I was going to be forced to do so once again, so I couldn’t help but partially agree with her reaction.
Though this time, at least it was with someone I found rather intriguing.