Chapter 8
“C ome on, girl, get ya leg over. I don’t wanna be touching that ass. D’ya see what happened to the last guy who did that?” Wade makes me laugh, as I hook my foot into the stirrup and go to pull myself up.
A loud whistle sounds out across the yard, and when I look over I see Garrett coming out of the stable leading that huge, black horse of his, along with the pretty, white one that he told me belonged to his sister.
“Well, I never…” Wade utters under his breath, and when I look at him, the shock on his face has me questioning what's going on here.
“You ain’t riding her today,” Garrett leads the horses over to the corral entrance, where we’re stood. “And you ain’t riding in there either.”
“But I…”
“You’re riding her and you're riding out there, with me,” he gestures his head towards the open pastures that surround the ranch, and I notice Wade’s mouth drop open another inch.
“I… um,”
“Come on,” Wade encourages me toward Garrett, who shocks me even more when he reaches out for my hand and guides me towards the saddle on Breanna’s horse.
He doesn’t even give me a chance to get my foot in the stirrup, before he places his hands on my hips and raises me with those strong arms to place me on her back.
I take the reins and grip the front the way Wade’s taught me and manage to maneuver myself so I’m sitting correctly.
Garrett keeps hold of the rope that’s attached to my horse and actually smiles at me before he makes hopping up onto his own saddle look effortless.
“Where you going?” I can’t decide if Wade is confused or angry, as he watches Garrett double-check the clip that keeps the rope he’s holding connected to my horse.
“Gotta make sure you don’t get away from me.” He ignores Wade’s question and winks at me, and I do a terrible job of hiding the shock from my face. I’d never have guessed the man had a sense of humor.
Garrett does his own version of the clicking noise that Wade makes to get the horses moving and makes it sound sexy as hell. Despite knowing what’s coming, I still startle when both horses start to move.
“We’re doing a perimeter check,” he calls back over his shoulder to answer his brother’s earlier question, and then builds us up to a steady trot, leading us out the paddock and into the open fields
He doesn’t talk to me as we ride, and oddly it doesn’t feel awkward.
In fact it gives me the chance to appreciate the scenery.
I’ve been too busy stropping about being here, to actually notice how beautiful it is.
The ranch is locked away by mountains, and in front of us there’s a huge slope decorated with beautifully coloured trees.
It dips into a long, narrow valley where the river runs through.
“That’s Copper Ridge, the ranch is named after it,” Garrett explains, when he notices me admiring it.
“It’s pretty.” I can’t take my eyes off it. The way the sun lights up the different colored leaves on the trees and the sparkles on the water’s surface makes me want to paint it.
“Yeah, it’s pretty alright.” When I turn my head and catch him staring at me, I have to try really hard not to blush. Instead, I manage a shy smile.
Garrett clears his throat and readjusts himself on his saddle, giving me the impression that he’s just as embarrassed as I am.
“And if you're thinking it’s named after the color of the trees, you’re wrong. There’s an old copper mine that runs beneath it. Our family mined it for years.”
“So all this is yours?” I feel overwhelmed by all the space around me. I knew the Carson family was rich before I came here. My mom wouldn’t have contemplated marrying Bill if they weren’t. But everything surrounding us suddenly seems to hold so much more value than money.
“Everything you can see belongs to the Carsons,” Garrett confirms, “and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect it.” He makes that last part sound like a threat, and the determination in his expression confirms it.
“I don’t doubt it,” I smirk. He’s still looking at me in that dark, yet alluring, way that makes my pulse quicken.
And I rub my lips together when I wonder what it’d be like to kiss a man like Garrett Carson.
I kissed a guy once before, but he was just a high school boy and the whole thing felt kinda forced, especially since we were at a party and had all our friends watching.
“So, where is this perimeter we need to check?” I change the subject when I feel the tension between us pull tighter.
“Just on the other side of the ridge,” Garrett informs me, moving us on at a more steady pace. He sits so naturally on a saddle it’s clear he was born to ride. If I thought watching him drive was sexy, watching him ride a horse is another level of hot.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find the whole cowboy get-up attractive on him, which is good because I’ve quickly learned that it’s very rare to see a Carson man without a Stetson on his head.
“So, has my brother taught you to canter yet?” he asks, with the tease of a smile on his mouth.
“No, not yet.” I can’t pretend I’m not pissed about that. I never was a patient learner, and Wade’s whole ‘learn to walk before you run’ approach to learning sucks, especially considering the man rides wild horses for a living.
“You wanna?” Garrett has a daring smirk on his face that looks damn hot, and I could really get used to this playful side of him.
“It’s been a while since Darcy here has stretched her legs. I’m sure she’d appreciate it,” he adds, when I don’t respond straight away.
“I’d like to try it, if you think it’s safe,” I check, and when Garrett suddenly pulls his horse and mine to a stop, he has a very serious look on his face.
“I’d never let you do anything that wasn’t safe.” The way his forehead creases together when he says that shows he means it, and I slowly nod my head, hoping I haven’t ruined his mood.
“Okay then,” the smile eventually returns to his lips. “You hold tight to that saddle.” He warns, before making that click with his mouth and kicking on his horse, Darcy automatically sets off beside them, and we quickly build up pace.
“Grip the front of your saddle to hold your balance,” he reminds me; and when the horses’ hooves, thudding against the ground, start beating to the rhythm of my heart, I understand why him and Wade spend so much time on a saddle.
Despite it feeling strange to start with, I maintain my balance and relax.
The whole experience is kinda exhilarating, and when I glance across to Garrett and see the smile on his face, too, it makes me feel really fucking good.
Garrett doesn’t smile all that often, and to think that I might have played a tiny part in the reason he is now, fills me with satisfaction.
“So what are we actually checking for? '' I ask, when Garrett pulls us to a stop in front of a long wire fence that seems to stretch for miles.
“All sorts of things. Gaps, trapped cattle, signs of a disturbance.” He starts trotting the horses along the fence line, observing carefully.
“And what’s the difference between here and the other side?” The land looks just as open and sparse as the one we’re on now, and we’re miles from any roads.
“This is ours, and that’s theirs,” He tells me with that serious look back on his face.
“And who are ‘they’?” I question.
“The Masons,” he looks annoyed at having to say the name. “They own a ranch on the other side of town, and that pretty boy who tried touching you up last night works for ‘em.”
“If they own a ranch on the other side of town, what do they want with the land here?” It makes no sense at all.
“Because here, land is power, and people like to own as much of it as they can. That land you see between us and that tree line is a hold that the Masons have over us.
“What kind of hold?” Now I’m really laughing. I fail to see what damage some open fields are gonna do.
“Suppose the Masons decided to build on it, or give permission for a road to come through. It could ruin us. I’ll never understand what was going through my grandpa’s mind when he sold it to them,” Garrett shakes his head sadly.
“Maybe he thought you owned enough land,” I look back over my shoulder, trying to remind him of what he has. The Carson ranch is huge, one of the biggest in the state, and they have at least five different herds. Well, that’s what Mom was bragging about to all her friends before we came out here.
“Nah, he regretted it. I know he did,” Garrett leans forward and rests his arm on the front of his saddle. “I was the one who found him swinging four days after he signed it over.” His jaw tenses as he stares out at the land, and I see the pain on his face.
“I’m so sorry. That must have been terrible.” I struggle to believe a man would take his own life over selling some land, but then, this world is one I’ll never understand.
“There’s more to it, and one day when I find out what it is, I’ll put it right.” He turns his focus on me again.
“I guess your land has to end somewhere. You can’t own it all.” I shrug my shoulders.
“You're right, but ours don’t end here. We own another thirty acres beyond that tree line,” he nods his head toward the woodland on the other side of the pasture. “And it’s pretty much wasted since we can’t drive a herd across there. You see why none of it makes sense, now?”
“Just ask the Masons if you can pass through,” I suggest, and the immediate laugh Garrett makes holds no humor, just bitterness.
“Yeah, well, old man Mason ain’t very neighborly. He ain’t got a lot of sense, but he’s got enough money to buy a town. He doesn’t like people having more power than him.”
“So sell the land on the other side. If it’s no use to you, what’s the point in having it?”
“Can’t do that either,” Garrett shakes his head. “That territory over there borders the reservation, and our great, great grandfather made a promise to their chief that he would never sell it or build on it,”
“In return for what?” I find myself genuinely fascinated by Garrett’s little history lesson.
“In return for his daughter. The land was a gift from her father to bless their union. I guess none of us would be here if that union never happened,”
“You’re serious?” This plot just got thicker, and I’m here for it.
“On my life, our great, great grandmother was from the reservation,” Garrett explains with a hint of pride, and I guess it explains those handsome, chiseled features he’s got.
“Years have gone by since then. The men must be dead. You can’t seriously still be held to a word that was made all that time ago,” I point out.
“But we do,” he stares across the overgrown pasture, toward the tree line.
“Why?” I shake my head and try hard to understand.
“Because, if a man ain’t got his word, Maisie,” he pierces me with those dark eyes that make my pulse quicken, “what the fuck has he got?” Creasing his forehead, he angles the reins he’s got in his hand to the left and turns his horse, and Darcy follows his lead when he clicks to get us moving again.