CHAPTER FIVE
Rusty
R usty leaned back against the sun-bleached fence, the endless Montana sky stretching above him. He chuckled softly as he read aloud from one of Anita's saucy romances, his weathered voice a stark contrast to the flowery words. Anita was the resident romance novelist at Littlecreek Ranch. She'd started off shy as a prairie dog, but since getting together with Duke, her wild side had busted out like a bronco from the chute.
Now, Rusty wasn't one for romance novels, but he had this notion that reading aloud might help Snickers get used to the sound of his voice. At first, he'd tried reading a recipe book to her, figuring it was neutral ground. But when he got to a recipe for chicken-fried steak, he found himself wondering if it was appropriate. Trying to comfort a horse by reading about tenderizing beef seemed a mite . . . insensitive? So, he'd moseyed over to the ranch's small library and, with a sheepish grin, borrowed one of Anita's paperbacks.
"Don't you go telling the boys ’bout this," Rusty muttered to Snickers, who merely flicked an ear in response. He cleared his throat and continued reading, his gruff voice stumbling over words like 'throb' and 'quiver'. Who knew getting a horse to trust you could be so dang embarrassing?
The sun was warm on his face as he shared the passionate tale with Snickers.
"Just one look into those deep brown eyes," he continued, his voice soft and calming, "and her panties melted on the spot." Rusty whistled, wiping his brow. “Whew. This is some intense stuff, eh, Snickers?”
Snickers flicked her ears in Rusty's direction but kept her distance, still wary.
Rusty didn't take offense. Building trust took time, and their daily reading sessions were a slow step in the right direction.
As Rusty turned the page, his mind wandered from the romantic tale to the real-life drama unfolding at the ranch. His eyes shifted to the infirmary, not far from the main ranch house. Janice had been there for a few days now, under Trent's care. Trent normally cared for animals, but he knew a thing or two about treating humans too, and until the ranch found itself a doctor, Trent was doing an admirable job keeping all the living creatures on the ranch in good health.
Rusty hadn't gone to visit Janice, of course, but he couldn't stop himself from being concerned. He'd asked Trent for regular updates, and discovered that Janice had been given antibiotics. Turns out she'd received a deep gouge in her arm from the ranch's barbed wire fence when she broke in. The wound needed six stitches and was being treated for infection, not to mention the plenty of TLC Janice needed after the strain of her journey to get to the ranch.
It broke Rusty’s heart that Janice had endured so much pain. He couldn’t help but feel responsible. If he hadn’t left all those years ago, her father wouldn’t have been able to treat her like that.
But then again, if Rusty hadn’t left, perhaps her father would have treated her way worse. . . .
"Alright, Snickers," Rusty said, getting back to his book, "let's see what happens next in this whirlwind romance, shall we?"
Snickers gazed at him, as though willing him to continue.
“Oh looky here,” he told the horse. “Next up we have a chapter from Cade’s perspective now. Wonder what he’s got to say for himself, that dreadful rogue.”
As Rusty resumed reading, his voice filled the quiet of the pasture, creating a serene bubble where only he and Snickers existed.
“Underneath the starlit sky, the rugged cowboy, Cade, couldn't resist the fiery gaze of his forbidden love, Isabella. Her raven hair cascaded down her shoulders, a stark contrast to her delicate features. Cade's heart hammered in his chest as he took in her beauty, feeling an ache that went beyond the physical desire burning within him.”
Snickers’ once-tense body seemed to relax ever so slightly. Her large, expressive brown eyes glistened in the sunlight. "Fan of Cade, huh?"
Rusty continued reading, pleased that Snickers seemed comfortable with his presence. The more that he read, the more invested in the novel’s story he became. However, as the chapter drew to a close, Rusty felt a pang of sadness tug at his heart. It was obvious that Cade and Isabella would wind up together. But some relationships, unfortunately, were just forbidden period. There was no changing the narrative. No happy ending.
Closing the book gently, he glanced at Snickers, who had moved a bit closer to him during their reading session. He was about to comment on it, but his stomach rumbled, interrupting his thoughts.
“Think we’ll take a break there, girl,” he told her. "Just gonna grab me some lunch. I’ll see you in a little while, okay?"
Much as he'd love to read to the horse all day, Rusty had other jobs to do around the ranch. Animals to check in on, fences to patch up. Even so, he'd been spending a lot of time with Snickers. The mare needed him right now, and he wanted to give her his full attention.
Right after some lunch, that is.
As he walked through the open grounds toward the ranch house, Rusty spotted a group of people gathered for an art therapy session led by Nicole, one of the Littles, in the open air. Nicole had only been at the sanctuary a few weeks and was thriving. She was a sculptor by trade, but had recently come under fire from the media when her latest exhibition had explored her life as a Little, and audiences were way more shocked by it than they had any right to be.
"As you create your sculpture," Nicole called out, "try to think about what your piece is really saying. Don't be afraid to be honest—Littlecreek Ranch welcomes your authenticity."
Rusty noticed a flash of red out of the corner of his eye, and that’s when he saw that Janice was among the group, a little way back from the others under the shade of a tree. It was the first time Rusty had seen her since her arrival, and he couldn't help but stare. She looked physically healthier now than when he’d last seen her. More pink in her cheeks and a little more meat on her bones. The bandage on her arm tugged at his heartstrings, reminding him of the pain she had endured.
Sitting in the shade like that was typical of Janice. Her pale skin and red freckles made her burn like a lobster, so she always sought out the shady spaces. Even so, something about the way she sat there today—hunched shoulders, dropping head, downcast eyes—made it seem like she wasn’t just sheltering—she was hiding.
"Hey, Rusty!" Nicole called out, waving enthusiastically. "Wanna join us?"
Rusty hesitated, his eyes darting toward Janice, who seemed engrossed in her artwork. "No thanks," he replied with a smile. "I’m off to lunch, and not really one for artistic pursuits, but I appreciate the invitation."
"Alright," Nicole shrugged, a playful grin on her face. "But you're missing out on all the fun!"
"Maybe next time," Rusty promised, forcing a smile.
As Rusty walked away from the art therapy session, he couldn't shake the image of Janice from his mind. He found himself pausing to look back at her one last time.
She was weaving long strands of what looked like willow to make some kind of basket, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"Hey, Janice! Can I borrow your scissors a minute please?” called out Rosemary, who was also in attendance. “I’m making a very special sculpture for a certain top secret club I’m in, and I need to cut up some ribbon for it.”
Rosemary was one of the older, more mischievous Littles. Everyone knew the club she was talking about was the Mischief Makers, but everyone pretended to have no idea. That was the kind of place the ranch was. You were allowed to have fun and even play at having secrets, but really, at its core, the place was built on total honesty.
Another reason Janice couldn’t stay at the ranch long-term.
Because Rusty could never, ever be honest with her about why they’d broken up.
“Sure,” replied Janice, and Rosemary bounded over to her.
Rosemary was so full of excitement that she accidentally bumped into Janice's table. The impact sent Janice's delicate sculpture tumbling to the ground, breaking into pieces.
Rusty's heart skipped a beat, his hands instinctively clenching at his sides as he fought the urge to rush to Janice's aid.
“Oh no!” squeaked Rosemary. “I’m so sorry, Janice! Here, let me help you pick up the pieces.”
Janice looked down at her broken basket, her eyes wide with shock. The previously serene atmosphere around her was immediately filled with tension.
"Janice, are you alright?" Nicole asked, concern etched on her face.
"I-I'm fine," she stammered, trying her best to hide her disappointment. "It was only a stupid sculpture. Anyway, I’m no good at art.”
"I really am sorry," Rosemary said, wringing her hands, her eyes full of remorse.
"Y-yeah," Janice forced out a shaky smile, brushing away any sign of pain. "No big deal."
Despite her brave facade, Rusty could see the hurt that lingered in Janice’s eyes. He longed to be the one to offer her comfort. But he knew he couldn't.
"Let's get this cleaned up," Nicole suggested, taking charge of the situation. "And then we can start a new masterpiece, alright?"
"Alright," Janice agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. She knelt, her red hair cascading over her shoulders as she picked up the pieces of her sculpture. With trembling hands, she tried to weave the willow strands back together, but it was a futile effort.
"Stupid, I’m so stupid," she muttered under her breath, not realizing how loudly she spoke. "Can't even keep a simple sculpture in one piece. Worthless, that's what I am."
Rusty's heart clenched at the sound of her words. He was shocked to hear her talking about herself like that. It didn't seem like her at all.
"Janice, don't say that," Nicole gently said, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Accidents happen."
“It was me who did it,” said Rosemary. “It was my fault, Janice. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Nicole and Rosemary both knelt, trying to help Janice to piece her work back together.
"Leave me alone!" Janice snapped, her voice cracking with emotion. She swiped away her tears. "I can clean this up myself. It wasn’t your fault, Rosemary. It was mine. I didn’t build it strong enough. I did a bad job."
"Alright," Nicole relented, stepping back to give her space. She looked around at the others, who were watching with concern. "Let's get back to our own projects, everyone. Give Janice some room."
As the others hesitantly returned to their work, Rusty couldn't tear his gaze away from Janice. He thought back to the way she used to speak to her father, with a forced smile. Always hiding her true feelings from him. As much as he wanted to go to her, to offer comfort and support, he knew he couldn't—not so much because of the promise he’d made Chuck, but because of the promise he’d made Janice’s father all those years ago.
A promise that had torn him apart every day since he made it.
Rusty's boots crunched on the gravel as he reluctantly walked away from the art therapy session. He wasn’t heading for the dining hall anymore, though.
He’d lost his appetite.
"Hey again, Snickers," Rusty said softly, returning to the skittish mare's pasture.
The horse flicked her ears in recognition, her dark eyes watching him warily.
“Don’t worry, girl,” he said, “I won’t come too close. We’re just reading again, that’s all.”
Rusty took Anita's saucy romance novel out of his back pocket. After what had just happened with poor Janice, he wasn’t really in the mood for a lusty tale, but nevertheless, he cleared his throat and began reading.
"Cade leaned in closer, his breath hot against Isabella's neck as he whispered, 'There are many things I'd like to teach you, wild one.'" Rusty paused, looking back at the grounds where the art therapy session was taking place. "Y'know, Snickers, I made a promise to keep my distance from you. Help you get used to humans again without pushin' too hard. And now, I need to keep my distance from Janice just as much." His voice cracked ever so slightly at the mention of her name. “Guess it serves me right for all these years spent in solitude. Now, I can’t get close to anyone. Even though I'm desperate to.”
His words hung in the air like a confession.
"Alright, enough of my maudlin whining," Rusty said with a sigh. "Let's get back to the story, shall we?"
Rusty read several pages more, and although the words he read were full of lust and excitement, his tone of voice was decidedly flat.
Even so, Snickers' ears perked up, her dark eyes flickering with curiosity. Slowly, she stepped closer to him, her hooves making soft thuds against the ground.
Rusty's heart swelled, realizing that this small step marked progress in their journey together.
"See, Snickers?" he said gently, pausing his reading. "Ain't nothin' to be scared of."
But something about the way Snickers was looking behind him told him Snickers hadn’t walked closer to be near him .
Rusty turned around, and when he did, he caught sight of Janice standing at a distance, watching them both. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her lower lip was trembling.
Rusty’s breath hitched, and for a moment, they locked eyes. Then, as if startled by her own boldness, Janice turned on her heel and began to run away.
"Janice! Wait!" Rusty called out. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, his heart pounding in his chest.
Janice hesitated, slowing down but not quite stopping.
"Please!" Rusty called, his voice tinged with desperation. "Just . . . let me talk to you."
Snickers, unsettled by the sound of his voice, turned and ran away, too. All these living beings, fleeing from him like he was radioactive. He had to prove that he wasn’t.
“Janice,” he called more quietly. “Just give me five minutes.”
Janice paused now, turning back to look at him. Her eyes were wide, like a deer caught in the headlights. Then, as if a decision had been made, she took a deep breath and walked slowly toward Rusty, stopping a few yards away. Her red hair danced around her shoulders in the gentle breeze, contrasting against the afternoon sun that bathed the scene in a warm, golden light.
"Rusty, I. . . ." Janice stammered, her voice barely more than a whisper. “What do you want?”
Rusty couldn't stand by and watch Janice suffer.
"Janice," Rusty said softly, his hazel eyes filled with concern. "I saw what happened earlier, and I can't let you keep talkin' to yourself like that."
"Wh-what do you mean?" Janice asked, confusion mixed with vulnerability evident in her expression.
"Callin' yourself clumsy, worthless, a failure. You don't deserve that, darlin'. You're none of those things," Rusty insisted, his words firm but gentle. "You're strong, talented, and so much more than you give yourself credit for."
As he spoke, Rusty could see Janice's eyes welling up with tears—whether from relief or surprise, he couldn't tell. But he knew that his words were striking a chord within her, and it stirred something inside him, too.
"Maybe you're right," Janice admitted, her voice cracking. "But it's hard not to feel that way sometimes, when everything seems to go wrong."
"Believe me, I know how that feels," Rusty confided, a hint of sadness in his own voice. "But beatin' yourself up over it isn't gonna change anything. In fact, it'll only make things worse."
"Then what am I supposed to do?" Janice asked, her voice wavering between desperation and hope.
"Let people help you, Janice," Rusty replied gently, his gaze never leaving her face. "I want to help you, but . . . that means we'll have to spend time together. And I know that's somethin' Chuck doesn't want."
"Rusty, I don't want to cause trouble for you," Janice said, her eyes darting to the ground.
"Helpin' someone I care about ain't trouble, Janice," Rusty reassured her with a soft smile.
Janice’s eyes widened. “You care about me?”
“Feelings like that don’t just stop,” he told her, trying not to say too much. Of course he cared about her. He goddamn fucking loved the girl. But it wasn't enough. They couldn't be together.
Janice bit her lip as she considered Rusty's offer. There was a flicker of hope in her eyes. "What about Chuck?" she asked hesitantly. "I don't want to make things difficult for you."
Rusty shrugged, a determined glint in his hazel eyes. "Don't worry about that, Janice," he said confidently. "I'll handle it. You just focus on getting better and feeling more like yourself."
"Are you sure, Rusty?' Janice pressed, her voice laced with concern. She tucked a strand of her fiery red hair behind her ear, a gesture Rusty remembered all too well.
"Positive," he replied, giving her a reassuring smile. "Besides, all I’m doing is helping you feel good about yourself. Nothin’ more than that.”
“Right,” said Janice, looking down at the ground. “Nothing more than that.”
Rusty watched as Janice turned and walked back toward the art therapy session, her shoulders straightening ever so slightly as if some weight had been lifted from them.
As Rusty turned back to Snickers, he caught sight of Midnight grazing nearby. You'd never know that not so long ago he'd been such an angry horse.
He felt a glimmer of hope. It was small, but it was there.
"Alright, Snickers, sorry I startled you," Rusty murmured as he settled down with the mare once more, opening Anita's romance novel to where he'd left off. "Let's get back to the panty-melting."