Chapter 3
An enormous cow man stares down at me, brow furrowed in what I’m not certain is entirely concern. No, the more he glares at me without speaking, his shockingly blue eyes narrowed to slits, the more I realize that the rugged, looming minotaur in a cowboy hat looks pissed.
Shit, does he work here?
“I’m sorry,” I groan, pushing myself up from my prone position, grimacing at the squelch of mud sinking beneath my palms.
Ugh, gross.
The minotaur offers me a hand up, so at least he’s not mad enough to leave me here in the mud to perish when that rooster decides to come out and peck me to death.
I go to put my hand in his, then frown at the mud, looking around for somewhere to wipe it off so I don’t get him dirty.
He lets out a huff of annoyance and wraps his giant palm over mine, yanking me up with no effort.
I lose my balance from the force of his pull, and faceplant right into his chest, the button of his flannel shirt almost poking me in the eye.
“Shit, sorry!” I grip his arms to steady myself, eyes bugging out when I feel the rock-hard muscle of his biceps, far too large for my fingers to span.
The minotaur lets out another peeved grunt, and I quickly let go of him, stepping back with flaming cheeks.
I’m making a mess of things if I was hoping not to get in trouble for property destruction. At this rate, I’ll be lucky if I don’t end up in some dingy cell at the local sheriff’s office for reckless driving and rooster endangerment.
“Please don’t call the cops!” I blurt. “It was the cock!”
One thick brow raises at me, the metal of the hoops pierced through it glinting in the sun. “The what now?”
The rumble of his deep voice, softened with a bit of a drawl, has me startling again, but at least I manage not to fall on my ass this time.
“I’m not crazy, I swear!”
Yeah, Belle, because shouting that at a stranger is always a great way to convince them of your sanity.
He blinks at me. “Didn’t say you were.” His expression tells me he’s definitely thinking it though.
A series of clucks draws my attention from the stern cow man’s face, and I point at the rooster emerging from beneath my car.
“See! The cock—rooster—it was his fault! He was in the middle of the road, and no, that’s not some lame lead into a ‘why did the chicken cross the road’ joke, he was really on the road.
He flew up in front of my windshield, so I swerved, and then a truck honked at me, so I swerved again, and… ”
My frantic rambling loses steam as a scowl forms on his face again. I gesture feebly at my car and the sign denting the hood. “And well…here we are.”
He shakes his head. “Dammit, what were you thinking?”
His anger takes me aback. I mean, it sucks that I broke his sign, but isn’t he the least bit concerned or relieved for that to be the only damage?
“Well, I was thinking, ‘oh fuck, Tammi was wrong, and I’m about to die because I believed that coming here was my destiny, and I’ll be dead in a ditch on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere and—’”
The minotaur shakes his head again. “Not you. Doodle.” He crouches down and glares at the rooster, who is currently clucking next to my feet without a care in the world.
“His name is Doodle?” I ask, trying not to let my embarrassment at my unnecessary word vomit show.
He nods. “Yep. And he’s a right pain in my ass.”
He lunges toward the rooster, who lets out a loud crow and tries to raise up into the air, but is too slow to avoid capture.
“Nope, none of that, you little devil,” the cow man chastises as the rooster tries to peck him in protest of this manhandling.
The minotaur lets out a string of mumbled curses that match Doodle’s angry clucks and crows as he heads over toward—
Holy shit, that’s the biggest horse I’ve seen in my life.
I stumble backwards, my ass hitting the trunk of the car as my heart leaps into my throat. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice because he’s too busy stuffing his cock into a cage.
That thought makes me snort. I really wish Gretchen were here—she’d appreciate a good cock cage joke.
I doubt this minotaur would do anything other than glare at me.
Once he’s secured Doodle to his gargantuan horse’s saddle, he turns back to me.
“You got a cell?” he asks gruffly.
“Uh, no, I don’t carry around my own cage. You’ll have to call the cops if you want me locked up like Doodle there.”
My joke falls flat, not even earning a twitch of his lips.
“A phone,” he clarifies.
I pretend that I truly misunderstood him because that seems better than explaining a joke that he didn’t find amusing.
“Oh! Duh.” I smack my forehead with my hand, only to realize a second too late that it still has mud on it, and now I have mud on my face.
I do my best to wipe it off, only managing to smear it more.
I give him a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I have a cell phone.”
“I’ll give you the number for the tow truck.”
I wait for him to continue. To mention something about me needing to pay for the sign damage at the very least. But he just stares at me silently.
Looking up at him hurts my neck. Or at least I hope it’s that and not whiplash from the crash. I’m uninsured, so there’s no way I’ll be able to afford an emergency room visit.
“Oh. That’s it?” I curse myself for asking the question aloud, but it’s not like I can call the tow and go on my merry way, never seeing this guy again. He’s clearly involved with the ranch, which is where I’m going to be for the foreseeable future.
He frowns, the movement making his large nose ring jut out a bit. I’ve always wondered if there was a reason most minotaurs have that particular piercing, but now is definitely not the time to ask.
“Suppose not,” he sighs. “I can take you back to the main building, and we can sort out the insurance details there.”
God, please let my car insurance cover rooster-induced accidents.
“Alright.”
There’s an awkward moment where it seems like he’s waiting for me to say something else, neither one of us moving. I clear my throat and do my best to give him a winning smile. “I’m Belle, by the way.”
“Cow.”
I frown. Huh? Is that his name, or is he trying to tell me something about a cow?
“Uh, it’s nice to meet you…Cow?”
He frowns back at me, eyes narrowing. “Cal,” he says, enunciating the word more clearly.
Oh god, way to really step in it, Belle. Now he’s going to think you’re a speciesist asshole on top of a reckless driver and an all-around mess.
“Cal! Right, that makes much more sense than Cow.” I let out a strained laugh.
“Not that there would be anything wrong if your name was Cow, but I didn’t mean it like ‘you’re a cow’ because I know that minotaurs—or do you prefer ‘cow men’?
I know both are used, but I don’t want to be rude if you like one more than the other.
Anyway, uh, I know you aren’t at all related to bovine creatures. ”
I clear my throat, face burning with embarrassment at my babbling.
He looks at me blankly, then gestures over toward the behemoth behind him. “Be faster if you rode with me on Astra, but I can come back with my truck if you prefer.”
I do my best not to show my sheer terror at the thought of getting on that horse’s back. “I don’t mind waiting! I have some bags I’ll need to bring up with me anyway, so the truck will be better.”
When I mention needing to bring my bags, I expect him to be confused, but the look he gives me isn’t one of confusion. It’s a mix of resignation and distaste.
“Right. You’re Belle Brooks, then?” From the hardness of his gaze, it’s clear he already knows the answer, and isn’t happy about it.
Damn, I really hate that this is my first impression with ranch staff, but there’s no helping it now.
I pretend like I don’t notice his displeasure. “Yep! That’s me. You’ve probably been told I’m coming. Or at least I hope you knew I was coming, because otherwise this is really awkward.”
Or more awkward than it already is.
I force a laugh, but he doesn’t join me, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I know of you. Not sure why you came all the way out here, though.”
My stomach sinks. I thought the lawyer would’ve told someone on the ranch about my coming here to get things sorted, but I guess not. Either that or this guy is a ranch hand who wouldn’t be privy to that information.
I fight to keep a smile on my face. “Uh, what do you mean?”
He shakes his head, dismissing the question. “I’d best head back and grab the truck before it gets dark. We can talk about why you’re here and what you want back at the ranch.”
After almost an hour of waiting, in which the tow I called arrives and hauls off my car to the local mechanic, a truck comes up the drive, but there’s a human man driving it instead of Cal.
He introduces himself as Dutch, and makes efficient work of loading my pile of suitcases and mismatched assortment of bags into the flatbed. He’s not one for conversation either, which I pray isn’t a common feature of everyone working here.
We silently ride up to the cluster of buildings, and it’s hard to see all the details since the sun has mostly set. Still, there’s a small flutter of excitement when I get out of the truck and take a moment to look around as Dutch wordlessly hauls my bags into the house where I must be staying.
Wow. I’d forgotten how big the sky looks out here, and how beautiful the mountains are, too busy worrying about what I’d find when I got to the ranch on the drive in to appreciate the views.
A vague memory of standing in front of what’s probably this very house forms in my mind.
Someone singing a song I don’t remember the lyrics to as I stared up at the sky, hoping to see something—maybe shooting stars?
All I can recall is the sense of wonder and anticipation as I looked up at the glittering night sky.
Dutch clears his throat, jarring me out of my reverie.
I smile at him. “Thank you for your help!”
“No problem, miss. Cal should be around to collect you in an hour or so.” He tips his hat and hops back in the truck before I can ask any questions.
More memories hit me when I enter the cabin.
This was my grandparent’s home. My grandpa passed before I was born, but I remember being in here with my grandma. It doesn’t look like it’s changed in the two decades since I left.
An ache of grief swells in my chest.
God, I can’t believe I’m back here.
I should’ve come back sooner.
I should’ve reached out to her before it was too late.
I’m a terrible granddaughter.
A tear spills down my cheek, and more flow as I wander around the house. I’m full on blubbering by the time I find a framed portrait of me and Grandma together, our smiles matching as she holds the reins of the white horse I’m seated on.
I look like her.
How did I not know that?
The similarities are blatant as I examine the photographs of her when she was younger, especially the one of her wedding day. Our noses are different, but the eyes, mouth and hair are practically identical.
Swiping away the tears and snot with my sleeve, I remember how disgusting I am right now, and hop in the shower so I can clean up before Cal comes to “collect me”.
Sounds like he’s going to round me up like that unruly rooster and chastise me for my behavior.
The warm water and soap help me feel a bit better, but it takes a lot of rummaging to figure out what bag my clothes are in.
When I bemoaned my lack of ranch-appropriate attire, Gretchen insisted on getting me some clothes to “help me start my new adventure off right.” She was an angel and also packed up the bulk of my wardrobe for me when I was having a panic attack about leaving the city—and more importantly, her—behind.
A startled snort-laugh bursts out of me when I locate the clothes Gretchen got for me.
An assortment of bedazzled, bright, and kitschy cowgirl clothing meant for a stage, not a ranch, greets me as I dig through the suitcase.
A lot of it looks like she did the embellishments herself, her penchant for sequins and rhinestones on full display.
There’s even a set of pink cowboy boots, and a matching cowboy hat.
It’s so ridiculous, I can’t do anything but laugh. I check to see if there’s anything normal at the bottom, but nope, this is it. It’s rhinestone cowgirl or my regular clothes, which are threadbare thrift store dresses and work attire from my time at the hotel.
I’m about to text Gretchen to ask her what she was thinking, but there’s a loud knock on the front door.
Shit, he’s here already. Was that really an hour?
I can’t go out in my towel, and I can’t put my one pair of normal jeans back on because they’re covered in mud.
Bedazzled jumpsuit it is.
I get dressed as quickly as possible, getting more and more agitated as the knocks on the door become increasingly loud and impatient. I’m out of breath by the time I make it to the door, yanking it open and coming face-to-chest with the grumpy minotaur from earlier.
Cal gives me a once over, eyes widening for a split second before his face settles back into his humorless stare. “You ready to talk?”