Chapter 7
After our busy morning, I doubt Belle will show up at the mess for lunch. She acted tough, but by the time we got over to help August with milking the goats, she looked dead on her feet. The brightness in her eyes was gone when she headed off toward Dawn’s house to shower and change.
I thought it would be satisfying, seeing Belle’s dismay.
And for the first hour or so, it absolutely was.
I had a hard time keeping the grin off my face at the look of horror she gave me when I told her we’d be mucking stalls.
It’s not usually my job, but I gave the boys a break this morning for Belle’s welcome to the ranch.
But when she was done, and I offered to show her the horses, something shifted.
Suddenly I felt a lot less amused and much more like a supreme ass for tormenting Dawn’s only granddaughter.
I know in my gut that breaking Belle of any illusion that life on the ranch will be a fun adventure is for the best. Not just for me and for everyone here who depends on this place staying open to get by, but for Belle herself.
She shouldn’t waste her time here, and the longer she clings to this dream of a life that doesn’t exist, the more of a waste it will be.
Still, maybe I’m trying to expedite the process a bit too much.
I have a feeling if Dawn were here, she’d smack me upside the head for not being a proper host to her granddaughter.
Then again, if she were here, Belle wouldn’t own half the ranch and hold any power over the fate of this place.
She’d be here as a guest, and I’m plenty polite to those.
Even though I’m getting a bit rusty with the lack of them as of late.
No, this plan is good. Who cares if she thinks I’m a grade-A ass? The sooner she gets out of my hair, the sooner I can focus on more important things. This might not have been exactly what August meant by worrying about one problem at a time, but it makes sense.
As I wash up back at my cabin, not needing a full change since I didn’t get anywhere near the muck that Belle did, I come up with a mental list of activities for this afternoon.
Normally, I’d be working in the office, chipping away at the mountain of soul-sucking admin tasks, but that can be put on hold for the cause.
I haven’t checked the fences along the upper trails, so that’ll take a couple of hours on foot.
I’d usually do it on Astra, or one of the ATVs, but the walking will tire Belle out more.
Then, by the time we’re back, we can help collect eggs again and feed the chickens, followed by a quick dinner, then back out to do the evening chores.
It’s a schedule I’d never assign to a new ranch hand in a million years. Hell, I’ll probably be beat afterwards, but it’ll be worth it.
That is, if she shows up at lunch and didn’t pass out the second she got near a bed. I debate whether I’ll go get her or leave her be, guilt rising at the mere prospect of dragging Belle along with me in this hypothetical situation.
Guess I’ll wait and see.
Grim determination accompanies me as I head to the dining hall, stopping at the front desk to say hey to Marcie, who looks half-asleep as she reads her usual mystery novel. I freeze halfway through the doorframe into the dining hall when I spot Belle, a bright blue beacon in the middle of the room.
How the hell did she get showered, changed, and over here before me?
She’s chatting with a human man and woman, a couple I recognize as one that’s come back a few years in a row. All three of them laugh at something she says, and I’m momentarily captivated by how pretty Belle looks when she’s not faking her smiles.
Shaking that unhelpful thought away, I huff and head toward the buffet. Lunch is usually nothing fancy, but today there’s fresh apple pie for dessert, and I can’t help wondering if the extra effort was made because of our sparkly new guest. Guess word has gotten around to Jenny, our cook.
I grumble to myself about food waste and unnecessary expenses as I scoop bean and vegetable stew into a bowl, then begrudgingly let my sweet tooth convince me to take some pie.
“Mmm, that looks amazing.”
I startle mid-reaching for a slice, some of the stew sloshing out of the bowl and onto the tray.
How the hell did she sneak up on me like that? The sequin cherries on her light blue denim vest and pants are loud enough on their own, nevermind the ridiculous sequin fringed jacket.
Belle giggles when I glare at where the stew has spilled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s fine.”
There’s a long, awkward silence as she watches me.
“You gonna take some pie or just stand there?” she teases.
“Changed my mind.” I really wanted some pie, but something stubborn and supremely stupid in me doesn’t like the thought of being seen as a cow man who indulges in sweet treats.
I know it’s macho nonsense, a remnant of my son-of-a bitch father’s toxic worldview, but at the moment I can’t stop it from rearing its ugly head.
“You already eat?”
Belle shakes her head. “Nope! I was waiting for you. Figured you could give me the game plan for the rest of the tour and maybe we can get to know each other a little better.”
“Right.” The last thing I want to do is get to know Belle, because it’ll make it harder to follow through with my plan to scare her off. But I can’t outright refuse to eat with her.
I head to an empty table and sit astride one of the benches, grimacing as the hard edge digs into my sore inner thighs. As uncomfortable as it is, getting new tables for an empty dining hall is at the bottom of my priority list.
Belle joins me, the generous slice of pie on her tray taunting me. She lets out a soft groan as she sits across from me, soreness from our morning flashing across her face before she masks it with a smile and an exaggerated sigh of pleasure as she looks down at her food.
For some infernal reason, my cock twitches at the sound, and I have to look away.
I absolutely am not thinking about this woman that way.
She’s not even my type.
I’ve never been particularly interested in humans. They’re pretty enough to look at, but too…small. I know star-blessed children, though rare, are living proof that cow men and humans can make things work, but the size difference still seems like too much of a hurdle.
My damn cock needs to get in line and stop making me have even stray thoughts about this woman.
I pointedly don’t watch as she dips a breadstick in her stew and takes a bite, which is a good call since she makes another, more genuine sigh of enjoyment.
“So, if you were stranded on a desert island, what would you bring with you?”
I snap my focus from my bowl of stew back to Belle. “What?”
“It’s an icebreaker question,” she says, shrugging. “If you don’t like that one, we could go for a fun fact about you. Or what superpower you’d pick if you could have one.”
I shovel some stew into my mouth, not doing a great job of suppressing my glare. I’m trying to balance my hazing with being friendlier, to keep Belle from suspecting my motives, but it’s hard.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Would you rather I ask you some inane shit like your favorite color that tells me absolutely nothing about who you are as a person?”
“Red.” It’s actually pink, but I’m not about to admit that to the woman who seems to possess a wardrobe filled with that color. I don’t want her to get the wrong impression.
Belle's lips quirk. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Why?” Does she not like red? Why do I care if she doesn’t like it?
“Because I bet every time you tell a human that, you get a version of how they’re surprised because they thought bulls hate the color red.
Which is idiotic on multiple levels, since minotaurs have no biological connection to bulls and it’s a myth that bulls hate red.
They’re partially colorblind and can’t even see red.
It’s the waving of the cape that taunts them. ”
She’s not wrong, but I can’t stop myself from messing with her a bit. “No one has ever said that to me,” I deadpan.
Her eyes widen, cheeks flushing. “Oh shit, really? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird or be rude. Please don’t think that I was trying to—”
My composure breaks at her squirming, and a rough laugh bursts from my lips.
“Oh, screw you,” she retorts, no real bite to her words. No, she laughs along with me, the sound making something expand in my chest.
Before I can stop myself, words spill from my lips. “Don’t tell anyone, but my favorite color is really pink.”
Her plush lips twist into a grin. “Oh, really? Interesting.”
There’s a knowing twinkle in her eyes, and that feeling expands inside me. A fledgling connection I can’t afford to foster if I plan on scaring Belle away.
“It has nothing to do with you,” I add, hoping to curtail her assumptions, but that only makes her smile wider.
“Of course not, cowboy.” She winks, and my traitorous dick twitches again. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Not trusting myself to talk more, I set about eating as quickly as possible, answering Belle’s intermittent questions with curt, no nonsense replies.
“So why are you here?” She narrows her eyes at me between bites of pie.
“What do you mean?” I frown at both her question and in envy of her pie consumption. “We’re having lunch and then I’m taking you for the rest of your tour.”
“No, no, why did you come to Taurus Ranch? How did you end up here?”
I sigh and set down my spoon, knowing she’s not likely to accept a monosyllabic reply this time. I settle for blunt honesty.
“I needed to get away from home. My dad was a cruel bastard, and I’d had enough. As soon as I was old enough to move out, I left and never looked back. It was happenstance that I ended up on this particular ranch.”
In my heart, I’ve always believed that it was more than random luck.
Finding the ranch hand job listing Dawn posted on a bulletin board at the Roan Ridge grocery as I was passing through, spending my last dollars on ramen packets and canned beans.
I had no experience, but I knew I could handle the hard labor, so I drove straight to the ranch in my beat-up truck with only fumes left in my gas tank, knocked on Dawn’s door, and the rest is history.
Many years after the fact, Dawn and I spent one night by the campfire reminiscing, and it turned out we both felt it the moment we met. That we were both the answer to the other person’s prayers.
She joked we must be soul mates, and if she wasn’t almost old enough to be my grandmother, she’d ask me to marry her.
I joked she was far too wise and good for me, otherwise, I’d propose right then and there.
There was never anything romantic between us, but we both knew that we had a connection on an intangible, soul level.
And now she’s gone.
The only person who ever felt like family until I met August is gone.
I clear my throat against the lump of grief. “So that’s why I’m here.”
Belle nods. After a few moments of silence while I compose myself, she speaks.
“You know, we’re not that different.” I scoff before I can stop myself, and she rolls her eyes. “You came here because you needed to leave your old life behind and start fresh. I’m not saying my circumstances are nearly as dire, but I need this place too.”
A noncommittal hum is all I can give her. Inheriting part of a ranch feels nothing like what brought me here. She could go back to where she came from and easily solve whatever problems she thinks require a fresh start. I couldn’t.
“Why did you stay for so long?” Belle asks, setting her fork down to survey me.
“Because I was good at the work.” It’s a half-truth at best.
Belle returns my scoff. “That can’t be all of it.”
I sigh. “I don’t know how to explain. It’s my home. I…I fit here.”
She smiles as if she understands. But how could she?
“So you do get it.”
“Get what?”
“Why I’m here. I told you it wasn’t for money.
I’m here because I’m tired of never fitting.
Maybe it’s foolish, but when I found out that Grandma gave me half of the ranch, I thought it was a sign.
Fate taking pity on me and pointing an arrow exactly where I needed to go to stop feeling so… out of place.”
Her words make my stomach clench with an uncomfortable amount of understanding.
“I’m sure it sounds stupid and delusional to you, believing in fate like that.”
“I…I don’t—”
Belle shakes her head. “That’s alright. I know it’s silly. Especially the stuff with the tarot reading.”
My brow knits in confusion. “Tarot reading?”
“Forget it.” She waves a hand at me and pushes up from the bench with a forced smile. “I’ll stop pestering you with questions since we’re done eating. Where are we headed now? If it’s more stall mucking, I’ll change back into what I had on before, if we have time.”
“Actually, I think we can save the rest of the tour for tomorrow. I have some paperwork I need to get done.”
She frowns, but her relief is palpable. “You sure? I don’t need you to go easy on me.”
“I’m not.”
I definitely am, dammit.
Why am I being nice? Half a day into my plan and I’m already losing my resolve.
“Okay, then. If you need anything from me, I’ll be back at Dawn’s house unpacking.”
I nod.
“See you at dinner?” she asks, and it almost sounds hopeful.
Which is why, against all my better judgment and my usual habit of eating dinner in my cabin, I nod again. “Yep.”
Belle smiles and gives me a little wave, heading off to put her tray in the bussing station. I watch her, rubbing at the ache in my chest to make it go away, but it’s no use.