Chapter 4
CASSIDY
“You sure you’ve been around cattle before?” I teased a day later as Briar quietly followed me to my house. Sweat stained her forehead and had left dirty streaks along her cheeks. Her skin was bright, sparkling in the moonlight as we made the evening trek to a bed that I was excited to crash in.
“Rude,” she grumbled, wiping her hand across the back of her neck.
“Well, you did fall off the horse and manage to separate the wrong cow-calf pair.”
“It’s a new herd and a new horse. Besides, if you were better at training, then maybe the horse wouldn’t have spooked when I threw the rope.”
“Or you could’ve asked if that horse had ever been roped off of before.”
“How inconsiderate of you to not just tell me. Why should it have been my responsibility to ask when it’s your horse?” she snapped with equal quickness, and I pulled the brim of my hat lower, hiding my smile.
She was fun. And actually a phenomenal rider. Even her work with the cattle had been great. She’d only separated the wrong pair because of my purposefully poor instructions. I was curious as to how she’d handle things when they went wrong, and she did well. She rode like she’d grown up on a horse and had no fear when it came to the herd. Her mannerisms and quick responses to everything had me fairly unconcerned about the cattle drive.
“Are you smiling?” she asked, as I pushed open the side entrance to my house. So much for getting the porch done today. “You find it funny that I messed up today!”
“It was pretty funny, I’m not gonna lie,” I answered and pulled my hat off my head.
“You are not the man that Rooney said you are,” she grumbled, following me in, and the door clicked shut behind her. I kicked my boots off to the side, hanging my hat up above the light switch on the wall of the small mudroom. The bench seat was covered with random tools that I had yet to take downstairs to finish the basement. The tile beneath my feet was covered in dirt and in need of a good cleaning, but I wasn’t concerned at this moment. The rustic color scheme of the furniture and walls held warmth as I padded past the half bath to my right and emerged in the kitchen.
“What does that mean?” I asked, flicking the light on and walking toward the butcher block island counter. Running my fingers across the surface, I paused and turned to face her. Rather curious as to what was running through her mind.
Frustration pulled her soft features taut; her cheeks flushed red. “You’re a foreman. Why would you work for your brother, for your family? You know what, why would you work for anyone else? Why aren’t you even trying to become your own man? That’s not you.”
All innocent teasing fled my veins. I don’t even know why it bit me to the core, why her questions bothered me so much, but they did.
“You have no right,” I seethed through my teeth as she marched right up to me.
“Why not?” she snapped in response. A flash of guilt washed across her face and then disappeared within a matter of seconds. My body ran warm with anger as I glared down at her.
“You don’t know me. You don’t know a single thing about me,” I hissed lowly as her chest heaved. She ran a hand across her forehead, smearing some dirt along her skin. Her eyes were dark, narrowed with both confusion and annoyance.
“Rooney had an emergency that day. A drunk driver ran through his fence, and all of his horses got loose. He got the call while he was in the middle of teaching your welding class and cut things short that day so he could run home. Sound familiar?” she began.
My brows twitched together as everything around me ran cold. I knew exactly what she was talking about, and now realized why her questioning why I worked for Weston had bothered me so much. But I held my tongue; these were thoughts and feelings that hadn’t surfaced in a long, long time.
“Anyway, Rooney says that he announced that there were at least thirty horses loose—half of which were new two-year-olds he was just starting—and could use all the help in rounding them up and making sure that none of them were hurt.” She stepped closer to me and rammed a finger into my chest. “You were the only one to show up to help. You do the right things for the people you care about without complaint. So—”
“So you know the reason that I stay as a foreman. I help those I care about and love,” I said without allowing her to finish, the heat steaming from my ears. What right did she have, even if she knew about this story?
“I’m not done! So, after—”
“Yes. You are done,” I snarled and spun around. “You got the answer to your question, Briar. Let. It. Go.”
“CASSIDY!” she yelled as I marched away. “I’m not done with the story.”
I paused but remained staring at the far wall. “I’m okay with being foreman.” I clenched my jaw, my heart pounding heavily against my ribs, and then stomped into my room. She had no idea what she was talking about. I didn’t care what type of man she thought I was.
It had been my fault.
And I would forever be indebted to repay the sacrifice that should’ve been mine. I should’ve been the one to go through everything. I wasn’t owed anything in this life because of my fear. My inability to be brave nearly destroyed someone else.
A hot tear ran down my cheek as I slammed the door shut behind me, but I quickly wiped it away, refusing to let myself sink in these feelings I hadn’t let consume me in years.
I was Cassidy Duke. I was strong. I was a good brother. I was a good son. I was happy and fun. I wasn’t this man wrecked with shame and guilt.
Inhaling deeply, I shook off her words; they shouldn’t have made me so angry. But I wasn’t really that angry at her, I was angry at myself and what I hadn’t done.
Time for bed, some rest to escape the dig she made at me. She would need to stay at arm’s length, considering she was already digging at something that I wasn’t in the mood to explain.
Besides, it didn’t just involve me.
∞∞∞
Running my fingers through my hair, I yawned, stretching as I pulled open my bedroom door, and froze.
Blonde hair, splayed in every direction, was piled on top of Briar’s head. Her eyes were droopy from just waking. She lifted her light-brown brows, her gaze scanning down my figure. I quickly pulled my work button up closed, and shook my head. Several days later, I was still mad at her. We’d avoided each other rather successfully during that time, but it took everything in me to ignore that flame deep within my core that was drawing me to her at the sight of her so disheveled. I kinda liked it…
She opened her mouth, words on the tip of her tongue, but I marched away. I wasn’t going to listen to her tell me that I wasn’t who she thought I was. We’d only met five days ago; I’m pretty sure I knew myself better than she knew me.
My hands fumbled with my buttons as I walked to the kitchen, then I tucked the end of the shirt into my pants and clicked the belt closed. After snatching a bagel from the fridge, I shoved it between my teeth and left my house as rapidly as I could. Why did she have to be up at the same time as me? Why did she get under my skin so easily?
Hold up.
Get yourself together, Cassidy.
I had the choice of whether or not to let her affect me, and she didn’t need to be anything more than another worker while here. She was nothing more than a stranger who would be leaving the moment that I deemed that stallion safe. She didn’t need to be anything more.
My spurs rang out as I meandered down the path, casually walking toward the field and round pen that awaited.
I emerged around a corner and paused. The stallion was neighing loudly, screaming for anyone, anything. He’d only touched a couple stalks of hay, but his water had been lowered about half way.
Finishing my own food, I sauntered his way just as the sun peeked over the painted ridges surrounding me. So much for my usual thirty minutes of peace. Briar had ruined that. Maybe that’s why this horse was so worked up—he felt her anxiety and annoyance.
“Does she tick you off too, ol’ boy?” I asked, approaching the edge of his round pen. He snorted but stopped whinnying. His ears were locked onto me, even if he hadn’t looked my way yet. He was listening.
I chuckled to myself and leaned up against the railing, the sweet smell of horse sweat and hay coating my nostrils. A few cattle bellowed lowly as my solace was disturbed by boots crunching over the gravel.
“Could you not give me more than five minutes?” I growled, upset, and turned toward Briar.
Not Briar.
“Weston,” I quickly corrected and sighed. His brows stitched together beneath his hat as he approached.
“What’s gotten into you?” he asked, stopping beside me and leaning against the crisp metal railing.
“Nothing.” I looked away from my brother, who was dressed for the drive, chaps and all. “Hold on, why are you here?”
“We’ve got a drive. Please tell me you didn’t forget?”
“Of course I didn’t forget. I’m wondering why you are here?”
“Because I come every year?”
“Except Tenley is pregnant and pretty much ready to pop at any moment.”
“We get back down here tomorrow.”
Hooves clopping against stone and dirt sounded to my left, and I glanced away from the stallion, whose ears darted toward that same noise. I pulled the hat lower over my eyes, shading them from the glaring rays of the sun, as two horses with riders focused into view.
“You’re not coming this time, Uncle Weston,” the closer boy said, and I chuckled to myself.
“Butch, we are not having this discussion,” Weston grumbled in response.
“Why? Because I’m not an adult? I’m getting close, am I not? I’ll be eighteen in a month!”
My brother sighed beside me and dipped his chin toward his arms propped up against the rail.
“Besides, don’t you think you should be here just in case Tenley has the baby? I’m pretty sure you’d regret coming down off the mountain just to find out she had to give birth without you,” the second boy added, and Weston glanced at me, rolling his eyes.
“When did you get so smart?” he called back.
Keaton laughed as the two brothers stopped beside us, geared up, packed up, and ready to go on the drive.
“I’m twelve now, which means I’m old enough to actually go on this drive solo. I’m not tag teaming with anyone else this time. I can take your spot!” our red-headed nephew said, grinning widely.
His older brother rolled his eyes. “Keaton, I’m pretty sure you don’t get his exact spot, even though you are coming on this drive with actual responsibilities.”
I chuckled again, then pushed myself away from the rail. “Weston, both of them are right. Now, go. You can finish my porch or something while we are gone, since I can’t seem to get it done with our new guest. Oh, and if you’ll keep an eye on the horse, that would be appreciated.”
Weston scowled, his gaze narrowing. “Just know that when you get back, I will return the favor you’ve shown me here and now.”
“Git,” I scolded as if he was a dog that wasn’t listening to commands.
Keaton and Butch chuckled, both horses they were on shuffling beneath the weight shift. “And you two, go get with the other hands, or you won’t be coming,” I directed to my nephews. Both of them tipped their hats and rode off in a cloud of dust. Strange how much both of them had grown over the past couple of years. Butch wasn’t the lanky, awkward teenager who stumbled over his own two, massive feet anymore.
Nah, he was still tall but had filled out recently, and I’m pretty sure he was starting to get some light-brown facial hair that matched that danged mullet he was sporting these days.
Keaton, in his curly, red-headed glory, didn’t have his baby face anymore. That innocent kid that helped me scheme against Weston was turning into a rather mature preteen, and it still shocked me that he was up to my shoulder. They definitely got the good genes from my sister and Cash.
Taking in one last deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air that held no responsibilities, I nodded once and stuffed my hands in my pockets. Time to go get my horse, chaps, and get everyone organized for the drive.