Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
Christine
It was three glasses of wine, but it feels a lot like a Mack truck ran over my head this morning. Lauralee is right. Wine and I don’t mix. Or we shouldn’t.
I’ll stick to beer and hard liquor instead. That makes me laugh until I wince from the pain in my throbbing brain. My mouth is as dry as a tumbleweed, but I can’t be asked to move just yet. I lie there with my arms wide as the tip of the sun makes its debut for the day.
I don’t have long, but I stay in bed until the last second, thinking about my night with Tagger and his family. It was fun and comfortable like with my own family because I’ve known them practically as long.
Reaching over to the nightstand, I take a few sips of water from the glass. I was smart enough to grab it before falling into bed, but I was too dumb to actually drink it to avoid a hangover. You can lead a horse to water, but apparently, I won’t always drink it.
I get up and start getting ready—washing my face and hoping to bring some life back into my skin, brushing my hair and teeth, popping an ibuprofen, and getting dressed. I may not feel my best, but today doesn’t have to be a bad day. After all, not only did I catch Tagger staring at my mouth like he wanted to kiss me, but he called me babe.
It’s probably careless to get excited over something so trivial, but I’ll chalk it up to the lack of prospects. One hot guy comes along, and every part of my being has noticed.
After a few gulps of soda and some crackers in the kitchen to settle the headache threatening to rage, I head for the barn.
“Pris?”
I turn to the sound of my dad but don’t see him. “Dad?”
“Christine?”
Walking around the barn, I look in the direction I believe his voice is coming from, but I still don’t see him. Then he appears from behind a tractor at the edge of the cornfield. “Dad?” I go to him so he doesn’t have to travel as far. I can tell his back is bothering him again by how he’s redistributed his weight to the right to compensate. “What’s going on?” I take him by the arm, hoping I can help the pain that’s tensing his face.
He pats my hand and works up a grin. “Morning.”
“Morning. Everything okay?”
Shaking his head, he replies, “Davey didn’t make it in this morning. His wife went into labor just after four o’clock.”
My chest squeezes in joy for them. We don’t get many babies around here, and Davey and his wife have wanted this one for years. “That’s wonderful news.” But then the pieces fall together. “Oh no, were you trying to herd the cattle?” My heart drops, knowing that’s not something he should be doing anymore.
“Someone has to, but as you can see, my herding days are over.”
“You don’t need to do that or anything else that requires a doctor to get fixed. I can cover for Davey if we can let the cows graze while I take care of a few of my other tasks this morning.”
We finally reach the front porch, and I help him sit down. He winces but starts breathing normally again. “You’re a good daughter, Pris.”
“You’re a good dad. Just stay here and rest. Enjoy the slower pace while I take care of what needs to get done.” I touch his shoulder. “Can I get you anything? Water? Some orange juice for energy? Breakfast?”
“I ate earlier. Stop fussing over me and get on with your day.”
He struggles to let anyone help. My brothers and I worked harder beyond our years than most kids, so I know what it takes to run this place. “Text me if you need anything. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Knowing my day just got a lot longer doesn’t help stave the headache away. I think it made it worse. No use complaining. The animals depend on us, so I head for the barn again. After feeding the smaller animals on the farm, I saddle up my Palomino, Sunrise, and head to the back of the property to check on the cattle and see how far they’ve wandered from where Dad left them.
The sun is brutal today, and it’s only mid-April, making me think this summer is going to be as hot as Hades. Another thing I take mental note of to make sure we’re prepared.
Sunrise loves to run, so I let her loose on the way to the pastures. The stampede strap wasn’t tightened, so when she really gets going, my hat is blown right off my head. The strap anchors against the front of my neck, but the wind blowing through my hair and whisking through the cotton of my shirt feels too good to wrestle it back onto my head.
Pulling the reins, I slow her to a trot until I stop her at the top of a hill on the lower pasture. The cows are fine and grazing through the wilder patches of grass that have arrived with spring. I do a quick count, not worrying too much about finite numbers but more a general sense for now. A breeze reaches this part of the property more often than the others. It’s nice seeing the blades bend to the east under the cooling air.
Even nicer that it reaches up here where I’m sitting on my horse.
I take a deep breath and slowly release. As soon as a calm overcomes me, I find my head filling right back to the tip-top with a to-do list. With a gentle squeeze of my legs, I encourage Sunrise to walk, letting her go where she wants, which is a patch of the good grass she likes to eat.
I reach around to grab my hat and put it back on, tightening the strap under my chin and then adjusting in the saddle. I pull my phone from the holster at my hip and text my neighbor a few properties over:
Hi Marjorie, it’s Christine from Rollingwood Ranch. One of our hands out here and his wife welcomed their first baby. I wanted to see if you could send a pretty arrangement over to them? They’re on the west side of Dover County.
Time moves slower out here in hill country. I may not hear from her for hours or even tomorrow, so I start to put my phone away when it buzzes.
Hi, good timing. I have some pretty daisies in orange, pink, and yellows. Out in the greenhouse, some heritage pink roses are blooming, and I usually have some carnations around. I can put something together in this new white milk glass vase I got in. I think this arrangement would be lovely to send them and perfect for the occasion.
Sounds great.
You know I love Rollingwood’s ribeye steaks.
She’s not subtle, but I prefer direct. I smile and reply:
How about four?
Neighbors around The Pass are always happy to exchange when they can. It’s something I appreciate.
More than generous. Is it from you and your dad or from Rollingwood?
The ranch. Thank you! And we can get those steaks out to you later.
You’re already short a hand. Since I’ll be out delivering the flowers, I can stop by and pick them up. It’s on the way anyway.
I’m covering his and my job today, so I appreciate it. They’ll be in the fridge box to the left of the porch. Thanks again.
Always glad to help.
With another text for my dad to get the steaks ready, I tuck the phone back in and secure it before turning Sunrise around. I pet her neck and pat her body. She’s always been good with commands and starts back to the farm. There’s an irrigation system that needs to be put on the track. And then twenty thousand other things to do before I’ll be able to end this day. At least my headache went away.
When I reach the peak of the edge of the farm where cornfields are lined with green stalks in the early stages of growth, I see a figure in the distance on horseback. It’s definitely not my dad by the build, and the silhouette is unfamiliar to our staff and hands, whom I’ve worked with and known for years. I could pick them out in a lineup with my eyes closed. Broad shoulders. Wide-brimmed hat. Cut in at the midsection, where I can only imagine a devilish V of muscle leads to bigger and better things. I laugh, letting it drift behind me. A girl’s got to entertain herself somehow.
We don’t get a lot of visitors this time of year, so I ride into action. “C’mon, Sunrise. Go, girl.” Riding fast enough to create our own breeze, I relish the cool air under the afternoon's hot sun. Not fifty yards ahead, the man stops, giving me a chance to realize that whoever it is, they’re riding Nightfall, one of our biggest and stubbornest horses. Nightfall won’t let anyone ride him, making me more curious about who it is.
I ride Sunrise full speed to see what this is about. Until I’m not thirty yards away, and it becomes clear. I gasp and hold my breath unwillingly in shock.
Oh.
My.
“Tagger?”
The hat.
The boots.
The jeans that look so good wrapped around his muscular legs.
The shirt that I remember him wearing in high school that the man he’s become has outgrown.
Hot damn.
He looks better than I remembered he could, and I remember him fondly. Very fondly. But sitting on top of Nightfall like it’s a horse he’s known for years by the comfort level the two share, I might fall in love altogether. He pushes the brim of his hat up just enough to keep the sun out of his eyes, but those greens still blaze brightly underneath. “Hey there, Pris.”
Riding up beside him, I can’t hide the smile that insists on beaming just for him, even if he did call me that name. I pull the reins and squeeze my knees to come to a stop. “What brings you out to these parts, cowboy?”
“A little filly I wanted to spend more time with.”
I smirk. “Bluebelly is up near the house.”
He smirks this time. “Not her. Though she is quite a looker.”
I playfully roll my eyes. “She gets all the studs.”
Chuckling, he tilts his head, still staring right into my eyes. “I can see why.”
My smile falters. This doesn’t feel like a conversation over a horse. It feels more like an insinuation toward me. My lips part when I realize this is Tagger Grange flirting.
He said I’d know if he was, which was no lie. I most definitely recognize the charming smile beneath eyes that appear unable to look away from me. His shoulders are relaxed and his expression untroubled. Everything about him has me feeling like a teenager again.
I wish I could take a picture. He’s my fantasy come to life, not only looking the part of how I remember him so clearly but owning the role in its entirety. But pulling out my phone to take a photo would be crossing a line, I’m sure. Though he still tempts me to do it anyway. “We’re not talking about Bluebelly, are we?”
The corners of his mouth tilt up again as he hums. He leans forward and whispers, “No, we’re not.”
“Why’d you come to the ranch today?”
The left cheek tugs upward. “I came to see you, Pris.”
“What about?”
He points into the distance, and replies, “The cost of a cart and horse to plow my field.”
“What?” I try to soften the pinch of my brows, hoping not to do more damage than the sun already has to my skin.
He laughs from the gut and shakes his head. “Is it so shocking that I just came out to spend time with you?”
I’d love to play it cool, but I’ve never been one to hide my feelings. “You did?” But did I have to sound like I’m swooning over the man? Inwardly, I roll my eyes at myself this time.
“I did. I can help where you need me. Your dad told me one of the guys is out for a few days.”
Mortification hits like a train. “He called you?” I knew it was too good to believe that he came just to see me.
“No. He just told me when I got here.”
Okay, fine. That’s the best of the scenarios it could have been. The giddiness returns and has me batting my eyelashes like a fool for him. “Oh. Right. Yes, they had a baby.”
“That’s nice.”
“They’re a sweet couple, so . . .” I let my words trail off, not sure I want to have a long conversation about this. Looking west, I think of the chores that need to get done.
He says, “I called my folks to let them know I’m helping out. They’re spending the day with Beckett, so put me to work, boss. I’m here to get my hands dirty.”
My throat goes dry. Nothing about him wanting to get his hands dirty makes me think about chores around the ranch, but my thoughts do head straight for the bedroom. Good Lord, I really need to get some action. “Um . . .” Sunrise starts stomping, her go to when she’s ready to get moving again. “I was heading up to get a bottle of water and then over to the equipment building on the far side of the ranch to work on an irrigation issue. That shouldn’t take long, but it would be nice to have company if you want to come along.”
“Lead the way.”
Glancing at the shine that reflects off the black coat of the horse, I say, “I think Nightfall will lead the way. Though I love his spirit, he prefers being in front and struggles with being a team player. It’s impressive that he let you saddle him. He’s picky.”
“So am I,” he says, reaching down to rub the side of his neck. “Maybe he sensed we’re the same.”
Both are handsome. I’ll give him that.
“We’ll be racing the sunset if we don’t get going. Five hours can fly when you’re running behind.”
“I’m ready,” he says, rubbing his palms together with the leather rein trapped between them.
“Follow the cornfield and then past the lettuce and cabbages. You’ll see the metal building.”
We ride. Sunrise lets Nightfall take the lead since he was going to anyway. She doesn’t need the glory. Never being a showy horse, she knows her worth. Gotta respect her for it.
When we reach the warehouse-style building, we dismount and lead the horses to the water, dropping their reins around the hooks. I leave my hat on the horn of the saddle and stop at the opening to the building and turn back.
I make sure to catch Tagger drop to his feet. It’s still quite the sight—his arms flexing every muscle as if they’re in competition for most cut. His ass is hidden by denim, but that doesn’t keep me from noticing the indention on the side I’m closest to. And when he lifts his hat, he swipes his fingers through his hair, sending droplets of sweat to roll down his neck.
Walking past him, I try to keep from ogling after the show he just put on for me. It’s a struggle, so I switch gears. “How sore will you be tomorrow?”
“Unable to walk, I suspect.” He chuckles, following close.
I glance back at him over my shoulder. “It’s been a while.”
“More than a while, but it felt good to ride again.”
“That first time back is always a bitch, but you’ll settle back in.” I grab a wrench from the peg wall and head to the far side, where our tractor is hooked to the system trailer. “Maybe not before you leave, though.” Ducking under the right side, I peer up at the bolt. An inkling of something twists in my chest. I have no right to concern myself with his visit, but seeing him around again has been nice.
“Probably not.” Grabbing the top slider bar, he ducks underneath. “Where’d you learn to fix this thing?”
“Hands-on like everything else.” I remove my phone from the holster again. “And technology helps.” Lowering the wrench with the bolt in the same hand, I set them down, then search for a fix online. It doesn’t take long before I find the blockage and reattach the feeder pipe and then the bolt again.
“I’m impressed, little Pris.”
“Don’t be. It’s learning by necessity, not by choice.”
He files around the tractor just as I duck out from under the irrigation system.
“Still.” He nods. “Impressed.”
Though I used to be intimidated to jump in, not wanting to screw up anything, but I don’t really think about this type of thing anymore. It’s just part of a day’s work. As soon as I hang the wrench back up, I say, “You wanted to get your hands dirty. How do you feel about helping me herd the cattle from the lower field to the upper pasture? They’ve been in the lower field all night and today. We need to rotate them out.”
“Sounds like my kind of job.”
“You remember how to do it, right?” I ask as we walk back to the horses.
He shoots me a sideways glare and grabs my hat. “Don’t worry about me, babe.” He places my hat on my head, then zips the toggle up to secure the strap under my chin. “I know how to do it, alright.”
I tease, “It will be like riding a bike or?—”
“Or?”
I bite my lip as he latches his hands together to give me a lift onto my horse again. I can get up on my own, but I’ll accept the offer. Swinging my leg over, I sit up straight in my saddle, then move my hips to adjust. “Making love. It’s just not something you forget.”
Tag’s eyes haven’t left my body where I’ve found the most comfortable spot on my saddle. I watch his Adam’s apple dip and then rise again with his eyes. I thought it was fun teasing him, but his expression makes me wonder if I took it too far. “I . . . Not that.” I release a heavy sigh. “Sorry. I thought we could joke about that, but?—”
“We can.” He leaves to get the reins from the hook and hands them to me. Our hands meet, and neither of us moves. “This is new with you.”
“Bad new?”
“Good new.” He smiles, relieving me like the words. His gaze drops to my lips and back up again. “I like this new stage with you.”
“Me too.” I’m so quiet that I don’t know if he heard me.
His gaze is fixated on the connection that has me tingling inside from his touch. Turning his palm up, he captures my hand and runs his thumb over my knuckles to my wrist and back again. I can’t see his eyes, and his expression of indifference twists my belly.
Suddenly releasing me, he says, “The cattle aren’t going to herd themselves.” Walking to his horse, he gets on like an old pro and takes off on Nightfall, leaving me and Sunrise here wondering what went wrong when it felt like so much was going right.