35. Caden
CHAPTER 35
Caden
“Cade,” the call comes from across the corral, “this big guy’s for you.”
The horse looks like it’s been on double feeds for the past year. I hadn’t planned on galloping off through the alpine, but I have my doubts that I’m even going to make it up the first incline on this one.
“Where’d you find this lump of lard, Holden?”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with Fergus. I had to find a weight match for all that ass you’re packing.” His hand comes down hard on the back of my thigh.
“Did you just spank me?”
“I did.” He laughs. “And I’d do it again, baby.”
Jesus .
I check the tack before throwing myself up onto Fergus. I wouldn’t put it past Wyatt to try to make a fool of me out here. We used to spend hours thinking up pranks to make the days go faster back on the ranch. It’s good to see him again, even if he’s already ribbing me like he used to .
It feels good to be back in the saddle, too. I’ve missed it.
I’ve missed lots of things.
That’s what happens when you find yourself stuck in the phase of surviving instead of truly living. You don’t realize you’re being swallowed into the darkness until you’re right there, with no desire to get out. It’s not until you start feeling the light seeping in again that you realize how buried you were.
Millie’s last to get on her horse. She’s pacing back and forth by Pepper’s side, wringing her hands together and biting the corner of her lip. She looks like she’s ready to bolt as Wyatt pulls the mounting block up on Pepper’s right hand side.
“Hey, Adams,” I wait for her to look up at me before continuing, “you’ve got this, there’s nothing you can’t do.”
She nods, but it doesn’t look like I’ve done much to help drown out her fears.
“So, we’re going to take it nice and easy—” Wyatt begins demonstrating how to get in the saddle, “—left hand on the horn, left foot in the stirrup and then a big swing right on over. Easy as.”
“Easy as,” she repeats, still glued to the spot.
“I’ll be right here to help you up.” I watch Wyatt as he stands far too close to Millie. He places a hand on her waist as she positions herself against Pepper’s flank. “Okay, on the count of three, big swing and pull yourself up and over.”
He slides his hand down her thigh, resting it just below the crease of her ass.
Not on my fucking watch.
“Holden, keep your goddamn hands to yourself!” I snarl, jet black jealousy searing through me .
He laughs, counting down, “Three, two, one…” Millie swings her leg over, darting her eyes from Wyatt to me and back again. “This your girl, Cade?”
How do I answer that? How do I tell him that yes, she’s mine, but she doesn’t know it yet? That if he touches her like that again, he’s going to regret it? Hell, I’m fighting to stay on this horse right now instead of going over there and chopping his hands clean off.
“Not for you,” I clip. “Just keep your hands where I can see them.”
“Roger that.” He chuckles, walking closer to me so he’s just out of earshot of the rest of the group. “You ever considered growing some balls and asking her out?”
“Get fucked, Holden.”
I squeeze my heels against Fergus, hoping he’ll take the hint to pick up the pace to catch up with the rest of the group. Instead, he keeps his head low, grazing on weeds that’ll probably send him to an early grave.
“Heads up, Fergus.” I pull the reins up, trying to steer him back onto the trail. “Did Wyatt put you up to this?”
He grunts, shifting half an inch forward.
I can barely make out the other horses further along the trail, but my eyes make no mistake when they hone in on the full hips moving up and down rhythmically on the back of Pepper.
I need to be close to her .
And I need Wyatt Holden to be so much further away.
“Come on, fat boy,” I dig my heel in a little harder at Fergus’s flank, “even Doug is a better wing man than you, and he fucking sucks.”
Fergus lifts his head, grunting twice before taking off at a gallop with an earth shattering whiny. I fumble for the reins, instead having to hold on to his mane as he careers through the trail.
I’ll be surprised if I make it through the day with both eyes still in their sockets at this rate.
“Hey boy.” I finally clasp the reins in my hand, pulling at the bit assertively. He slows a fraction, letting me catch my breath. “You ever heard of a gentle trot?’
The trail opens up as we hit the meadow, wildflowers scatter through the long grass in a tapestry of lilac, pink and yellow. The group have stalled ahead at a small turquoise lake, long noses dipped in the water trying to cool off from the afternoon heat.
Millie is resting her body across Pepper’s neck, hands weaving the strawberry blonde mane into several individual braids.
Not bad for a girl who was five seconds out from a panic attack thirty minutes ago.
I can’t help but admire the way she’s thrown herself into so many things recently, regardless of how shit scared she’s been.
Fergus has returned to a slow crawl, his hooves moving through molasses as I try to catch up, not helped by the slight incline of this final stretch.
“You need me to give you some riding lessons, Thompson? What the hell was that? ”
I flick my arm across my face to bat away a fly, wishing I could do the same to Wyatt.
“You’ve given me a defective horse.”
“A defective horse… you know how ridiculous that makes you sound, right?” Wyatt smirks, scratching at Fergus’s neck as he shoves a carrot between his gnarly teeth.
“I don’t know what else to call this thing.” I jump down, leaving Wyatt to look after his beloved beast while I join Parker and Elodie at the water's edge.
The afternoon sun is catching the subtle flecks of gold in Millie’s chestnut waves as she holds out her phone, trying to take a selfie with Pepper.
“How’s the ride?” I ask, my annoyance with Fergus melting away with each step I take towards her.
“Going better than yours,” she chuckles, sitting up and repositioning herself in the saddle. “Let me show you.”
Pepper is graciously obedient as Millie pulls up her reins and guides her through the wildflowers in careful circles. Her face is tight with concentration, teeth digging into the right corner of her lip. I try to keep my eyes focused on Pepper’s hooves, but they keep being drawn back to the saddle and the way Millie’s core grinds against it as she moves.
“I’m a natural, right?” she asks, pride spread across her sun-kissed cheeks.
“You’re a natural, alright,” I confirm, fighting for my life, and suddenly grateful that I only ever invest in high quality denim.