Chapter Nine #2
Crew strode past a plaid sofa and armchair and a cast-iron woodstove.
He set his duffel on the double bed, taking in the clean blue quilt and the dark wood nightstand and matching dresser.
The rustic cabin couldn’t have been bigger than about four hundred square feet, but it felt more comfortable than the polished spaces he’d once called home.
Feeling Tiny’s eyes on him, Crew said, “I appreciate this opportunity more than you know.”
Tiny gave a curt nod. “Unpack your things. Then you can head down to the equipment barn to see Cowboy. You remember how to get there from here?”
“Yes, sir. Take this road past the pasture, down the hill, and it’ll be on the left.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Tiny started to leave but hesitated. He looked at Crew over his shoulder and said, “The best way to show your appreciation is to do what you came here to do,” before walking out the door.
Crew stared after him, wishing there were a road map for making amends.
He had no idea what he was doing or when he would meet Billie and have a chance to talk with her.
But he knew one thing for damn sure: Dare could beat him every damn day, and it wouldn’t stop him from trying to make up for what he’d done.
He chewed on that as he put away his things.
A little while later, Crew headed down to the equipment barn, steeling himself for whatever he might encounter with Cowboy.
He found Cowboy elbow-deep under the hood of an old diesel tractor, parts laid out on a tarp, the injector pump half-removed. “Morning,” Crew said. “Tiny sent me down to meet Cowboy. I assume you’re him?”
Cowboy came out from under the hood. He was a big man, an inch or two taller than Crew, broader, too, his biceps straining against his shirt.
“That’s right.” He was fairer haired than Trouble, with a trim beard, and he shared Tiny’s serious dark eyes, which were currently sizing up Crew. “Hendricks, right?”
“Yes, sir, but I prefer Crew.” He’d been called Hendricks in prison, and the sound of it now brought a gust of tension.
Cowboy wiped his hands on a rag, eyeing Crew’s proffered hand like Tiny had, before giving it a firm shake. “Crew it is. Cowboy, not sir, got it?”
Crew nodded. “What’s going on with your tractor?”
“Fuel delivery’s off.”
“I’m pretty good with mechanics if you need a hand.”
Cowboy set down the rag, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if weighing the offer.
“I’ve got it.” He grabbed his coat from a workbench and put it on as he said, “I’ll show you around.
Keep up, ask questions if you got ’em. This is the main equipment barn.
You need something, chances are it’ll be in here. You ever work with horses?”
Crew followed him out of the equipment barn. There was a time when he’d been a proud member of the most expensive country club around. That had been all he’d known, taking pride in things that he now knew didn’t mean shit. He was ashamed of that part of himself.
“I’ve been riding since I was a kid, helped out at a barn when I was growing up. I know tack and basic horse care, but I’m no expert.”
“That’s a good foundation. You’ll learn the rest,” Cowboy said as they made their way toward the rehab barn. “Or you won’t. We don’t carry anyone here.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to.”
Outside the rehab barn, two dark-haired men were replacing boards on a pen. They straightened when Cowboy approached.
“Taz,” Cowboy said, nodding to the taller of the two men. Then he nodded to the other guy, who had tattoos snaking out of the collar of his coat. “Hyde, this is Crew Hendricks. He’s going to be here for a while.”
Taz tipped his chin. “You’re the bloke everyone’s been whispering about.”
“You’ve got a hell of a reputation to overcome,” Hyde added.
“I’m not proud of it,” Crew said. “Hoping to make amends.”
“Been there, done that,” Hyde said with a shake of his head. “But, man, not with the likes of Dare.”
Taz eyed Crew and said, “Reckon that means you’re either serious about it or stupid.”
“Both, probably,” Crew said.
That earned a smirk from Taz. “Fair enough, mate.”
With another nod, Cowboy left them to their work and led Crew toward the rehab barn.
“Taz and Hyde are two of the best ranch hands I’ve got.
They speak, you listen. Unless they’re being dicks, then you figure it out.
” As they headed into the barn, he lowered his voice and said, “This is a rehab barn. Try not to spook the horses, but be especially mindful in the rehab areas. My sister Sasha runs these barns.”
As they walked past a row of stalls, Cowboy told him about the horses they rescued and the heart-wrenching abuses and neglect they’d suffered before.
Even though Cowboy was quick and efficient with his explanations, it still hurt to hear the horrors they’d survived.
Crew could tell by the gentle way Cowboy spoke to the horses that speed and efficiency had no place in the way he treated them.
Crew absorbed the rules Cowboy explained about timely feedings, the importance of impeccably clean stalls, and the unspoken order of the ranch. The place ran on structure and respect. That was something Crew understood.
When they headed up another aisle, he saw a woman with long blond hair standing by a stall, talking in a hushed voice with a willowy woman with golden-brown hair.
“How’s he doing?” Cowboy asked the blonde.
“He’s settling in,” she said as she turned around, cowgirl hat in place, riding pants tucked into maroon boots. Her gaze landed warily on Crew, but not unkindly.
That serious gaze, he was learning, was a hallmark of the Whiskey family. Save for Trouble. Birdie. There was a spark in her eyes that set her apart. Her smile flashed in his mind unbidden, immediately followed by the hurt he’d last seen on her face, and his chest constricted.
“Crew, this is my sister Sasha and my wife, Sully.”
“Hi,” Sully said with a sweet smile.
“Nice to meet you both,” Crew said.
“So you’re the guy who hit Dare and Billie?” Sasha said, holding his feet to the fire.
Sully flinched, and Cowboy settled a hand on her back, drawing her attention to his reassuring nod.
“Unfortunately, yes, I am, and I’ll regret that night for the rest of my life,” he said honestly.
“We all will,” she said, and then she inhaled a deep breath and blew it out slowly, as if she’d been waiting to say her piece. “The horses come first around here, so if you and Dare get into it again, don’t let it happen around them. They need calmness to heal.”
“You have my word,” Crew said earnestly. “And if you need any extra help around here, after I’m done with the work Cowboy has lined up for me, I’m happy to lend a hand any way I can.” He looked at Cowboy. “Assuming that’s allowed.”
“We’re a rescue. Hard work is always appreciated,” Cowboy said. “But you might want to see what shape you’re in at the end of each day before you offer yourself up for more.”
“Understood. But at the end of the day, these horses don’t have the luxury of deciding whether they’re up to anything. If I’m capable of helping, I’d like to be considered for the job.”
Sasha and Cowboy exchanged a glance he couldn’t read. That seemed to be a theme lately, catching glances with meanings he wasn’t privy to.
“Noted,” Cowboy said, then moved Crew along.
They headed out of that barn, toward another one. Crew caught sight of Dare and a teenage boy heading across the grass toward the same barn. Fuck. Crew threw his shoulders back, preparing for a run-in.
Dare looked up, his gaze shooting daggers. He did a one-eighty, guiding the teen toward the pasture.
Cowboy cursed under his breath. “Better get used to seeing him. Dare works with younger clients and holds therapy sessions outdoors while keeping them busy around the ranch.”
“Good to know. I’m not here to mess up anyone else’s life. I won’t let this come to a head in front of his clients.”
Cowboy scoffed as they headed into the barn. “You nearly killed the woman he’s been in love with since he was six years old. The accident caused her to lose some of the memories of their best friend, who’s no longer with us. If you think you can control any of this, you’re dreaming.”
Crew swallowed against the guilt threatening to strangle him. “I’m no dreamer. But I’ll do my best not to cause a scene.”
“Now you’re learning.” Cowboy stopped outside a tack room and pulled the door, which stuck a little. The scent of leather and something akin to horse sweat wafted out. “This is your job today. You’re going to take it all out and clean it up. Nothing gets put away until it’s been wiped clean.”
Crew peered into the enormous room, taking in the wall of saddle racks, bridle holders, harnesses, and halters.
Shelves were littered with more tack, grooming supplies, worn blankets, scuffed helmets and boots, and God knew what else.
There were metal cabinets, wooden cupboards, a large utility sink, and a mini refrigerator. “That’s a lot of tack.”
“We’ve got two more tack rooms. Not quite this big, but packed full.
We’re a rescue, which means we run on donations, and we don’t turn away horses, so we need as many supplies as possible at all times.
If it’s usable, we keep it. If it needs fixing, we’ll get to it. Nothing goes in the trash. Got it?”
A memory crept up from his youth, when he’d been helping at a barn.
One of the people who worked there had come out of the tack room carrying a horse blanket that was frayed along the edges.
She’d given another employee hell for not bringing it to her attention.
He could still see her thrusting the blanket at the girl, telling her to donate it because their members shouldn’t have to see that type of wear and tear.
“Got it,” Crew said.
“There’s bottled water in the mini fridge and a bathroom through that door.
You’ve got to jiggle the handle on the toilet.
” He motioned to a door across the room.
“Cleaning supplies are in the closet.” He nodded to another door on the opposite side of the room.
“Lunch is served in the main house between eleven thirty and one thirty. After one thirty you’re on your own, so head up when you can. You got a phone?”
“Yeah.”
“Take my number. I’ll be all over the ranch today. If you need me, text.”
Cowboy rattled off his number, and Crew entered it into his phone.
“A’right. You good?” Cowboy asked.
Crew was so far from good, he could barely spell the word anymore. “Yeah. There’s plenty of work to keep me busy.”
“Just don’t mistake it for busywork,” Cowboy said. “Everything in this room is vital to this ranch, and I’m trusting you with it.”
“I won’t let you down.” Crew stepped into the tack room. At a time when making amends felt like an unscalable mountain, he welcomed the massive amount of work before him.