Chapter 4
Justin stared at the fine ass bent over in front of him. Damnit, he should probably look away. But before he could, he noticed it wasn’t completely dusted off. His eyes started to twinkle, and the corner of his mouth lifted with mischief. He didn’t know this woman from Adam, and she was already accusing him of being a perv for inviting her into the barn with him—or a serial killer. Maybe both? What had he been thinking? But the urge to do what he was about to was irresistible. He quietly advanced toward the woman he knew by now would probably bite his head off, but impulse wouldn’t allow him to stop—consequences be damned.
He gripped the brim of his hat, swiped it from his head, then reached out and fanned it back and forth—dusting off the pockets of her painted on jeans. A scream, a jump, and a hard slap to the cheek was what met him next.
“What in the actual hell do you think you’re doing?” She was stunned like a deer in the headlights. “My uncle is going to hear about this, and I swear he’ll fire you!” She moved to push past him, but he grabbed her arm.
“Hold on,” he demanded, a low rumble in his voice. “Chris Cole is your uncle?”
“Yes, he is! Who did you think he had out here gathering his eggs? Some stranger?”
Holy shit, it was her. That spitfire kid who used to show up every summer and raise hell.
A smirk grew on his lips. “You wouldn’t happen to be that wild little girl who had a habit of leaving her muddy boots and overalls hanging across the horse stalls every summer, would you?”
She gasped. “How would you know that?”
Justin gave her a sideways grin. “Well, back then, I was the guy in charge of cleaning up the barn, and your mud covered boots and denim were my nemesis. I lived at the bunkhouse with the boys, so you never saw much of me, if at all, when you came to visit. Besides, all the hands here probably looked the same to you. Though, I did save you from being trampled by a steer once.”
Blythe rolled her eyes and shot him a large dose of sarcasm as she yanked her arm from his grasp.
“Oh, I remember the steer. But I don’t remember you, cowboy.” She rolled her eyes and glared into what felt like his soul. “Don’t worry, I won’t be troubling you with muddy boots or jeans or my presence any more. If you’ll excuse me?”
She spun around one last time, gathering the rest of the eggs, and marched back to the house, leaving Justin to lock up the chicken coop himself.
He watched her walk up the steps and slam the screen door behind her. It’d been nearly a decade since he’d worked full time at Silo Springs, and it may have been then that he saw her last. Maybe longer than that. He didn’t even think he’d caught her name way back then. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard such a unique one before. When another name sparked in his memory, he connected the dots.
Lythie.
Chris and Claire had called her Lythie.
Damnit. Oh, well, how was he supposed to recognize her all matured and filled out, and in all the right places, too? Shit, maybe he was a perv.
He looked around the yard, his thoughts turning from the woman who’d just snubbed him and lingering on his time there. From the moment he’d started shoeing, the other hands called him the horse whisperer. Justin just knew how to calm them. He knew how to make them comfortable, and he always made them feel safe. Changing their shoes was a service to the animals; it built trust between the two souls, and there was nothing else on earth he’d wanted to do with his life. So at the age of twenty-two, he got his first LLC for Forge Farrier Co.
A flood of emotions hit him as he turned to the memory of how he’d arrived at Silo Springs. He stared off at the dirt road that led to and from the ranch. As much as he hated his father, he was the reason Justin was standing where he was—literally in the moment, and in life.
Justin shook his head and snapped out of it. He had work to do, and Chris needed those horses ready to move before noon. He could ponder his trauma later, and the pretty little thing he was sure considered him an enemy—or, at the very least, a nuisance after what he just did. If anything, it was payback for the nuisance she’d been to him all those years ago. Though, she had grown up, and she wasn’t a nuisance to look at…that was for damn sure.
He whistled to his hound, who’d run off to chase a rabbit earlier. Bear came running up without a rabbit in tow, and Justin chuckled.
“No luck then, boy? Well, let's go.”
The horses were waiting for him. Two chestnut brown mares with the prettiest coats and tails Justin had ever seen.
“Hi, girls,” he whispered to them, reaching both hands out to stroke their noses at the same time. He placed a kiss on each of the animals and softly told them what he would be doing.
“A new set of shoes for you both. Chris wants you ready to ride this morning. There’s a group of calves that need you to bring ‘em in so they’re ready for branding tomorrow. Sound good?”
Each horse looked at him, and he knew they understood.
Justin was quick and had both mares shod and ready before high noon. It’s why Chris always used his services. He was dependable, fast, and an expert craftsman.
“Hey, Justin!” Chris called, walking into the barn. “Man, you’re fast. Never ceases to amaze me.” Clicking his tongue in his cheek, he gave a whistle.
“Well, sir, I learned from the best. Without you and this ranch, only god knows where I’d be.”
The two men gave each other a knowing smile. The day Justin Forge came to live with Chris and Claire was the day that saved his life. He would never forget their kindness.
“I may have upset your niece this morning.” Justin nodded toward the house. “I was walking up and saw her tucked into the nesting boxes. I must’ve been really quiet. When I asked who she was, I scared the living tar out of her, and she fell down. I also may have used my hat to dust off her back pockets afterward.”
Chris was grinning.
“It wasn't until after that I realized who she was, and then it was too late.”
Chris looked at his feet and kicked some dirt before looking back up at Justin. “Well, that girl’s been through hell and back in the city. She had a shit fiancé, and she doesn’t have him anymore. Barely happened a week ago, and she’s still got a lot of feelings about it. But she’ll come around.”
Chris nodded and strode to where his saddle hung on its saddle rack. He looked back at Justin.
“You wanna ride out with us today?”
Justin kicked off his boots and hung his hat on the rack next to the front door of his own home. Bear came inside with him. The dog curled up on the rug near the couch, tuckered out from a day full of driving calves across the prairie and into their corrals near the bunkhouse. Those boys would be up early tomorrow morning, ready to brand.
Justin took Chris up on his offer to ride one of the mares out with him and the boys to gather up the babies. He loved working with his friend. It reminded him of the good times. But days like this were tiring, and he needed a shower and his bed.
He turned on the warm water and stepped inside the glass enclosure. The shower was his thinking place. Sometimes he’d just stare at the tile and let the water run over his back and shoulders for a while.
His thoughts wandered to Chris’s niece. Blythe.
What a pretty name.
Justin grinned, remembering the look on her face when she whipped around to slap him after he dusted off her ass with his hat. He knew it was impulsive. He’d barely met her, then invited her to come watch him shoe the horses in the barn.
What was he thinking? She had a point, wondering if he really was a creep just waiting for the right opportunity to snatch his prey.
He chuckled and tipped his head back to let the water wash the dirt from his hair. Her tight little behind asked for it, though. He grinned to himself and reached up to wipe a hand over his face. He meant tight in more ways than one. She had fire in her eyes, and he liked that.
He couldn’t deny he’d felt a bolt of connection the second he reached down to help her up from the ground. He’d never experienced that before—not with any other human in his entire life. He could still feel the vibration in his forearms. He started to ponder ways he could get closer to her, though, they all seemed to fall flat.
He scoffed to himself. That woman would rather string him up from the nearest tree than have one more conversation with him.
He made a mental note to apologize. Maybe that could help mend the questionable first impression he’d given her. In truth, he wasn’t sorry. If he could do it over, he’d still grab his hat and dust off her pockets the exact same way.
Turning around, grabbing the handle, and shutting off the water, he stepped out of the shower.
Damn.
He forgot to hang a new towel on the hook. He padded out of the bathroom, leaving wet footprints along the wooden floor to where he knew there was a soft, fluffy towel waiting for him in the dryer.
He opened the dryer door, reaching in to grab one. Wrapping it around his waist and tucking the corner into the top just above his hip bone, he walked back through the doorway and into the hall. Bear was perched right in the middle of the floor, staring at him, his head cocked to one side. He was a bloodhound, and his long ears and droopy eyes made him look even more judgmental.
“I forgot my towel. So, what?” He bent over, hands on his knees, staring his dog down like he was waiting for a rebuttal. “That’s what I thought.”
Maybe if the fine ass redhead wasn’t still running around destroying his thoughts he would’ve remembered. He still felt a little guilty now, knowing who she was. But he couldn’t help it. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, and he was no saint.
Justin threw on his long, checkered pajama bottoms. It was summer, but for whatever reason, he liked his legs to be cozy when he slept. He combatted the heat by sleeping shirtless, with just a sheet and his pillow. As he lay there staring at the ceiling, he grinned one last time before closing his eyes—Blythe’s painted on jeans, covered in dirt, flashing through his mind.