Chapter 24
TILLY
Hellcat,
You’re staying in the bunkhouse? I can only imagine the reaction those goddamn cowboys had to you being in their space. Make their life hell for me, Tilly. Do me a favor and remind them of what I said before I left. I’m in prison, not dead.
I’m fine. Good as new. It was more so utterly humiliated to have my ass hauled away from a guy double my size while I kicked the air like a toddler. I’ve had low moments in here, but that took the cake. I’ve got no desire to live that out again.
Tell Ash that I’ve been meaning to reply.
I’ve got a million things to say to him but no clue how to write them.
The only person I can seem to write to right now is you.
Maybe a shrink would be able to analyze that for me.
I’m too tired to try myself. Just let him know that I’m still his best friend.
If he replaces me, he’s only encouraging me to come back here once I’m out.
I hope you had a good Halloween. Got pics of your costume? I really wish I was joining you for Christmas this year. Your dad smoking a turkey again?
I miss you too.
Rowe.
“Yeah, you’re a pretty girl under all that crud, aren’t you?”
I keep the hose nozzle pointed away from the mare’s head and watch as all of the loose mud and grime that I’ve brushed out slips down her back to the floor.
The weather’s perfect for an outdoor wash today, but with how spooked this horse is, I didn’t want to risk overwhelming her.
She may appear calm to an outsider, but she’s pulsing with anxiety. We’ve had a quiet afternoon inside.
It took me half an hour just to be able to bring the water any higher than her legs, and even longer than that to give her a good, deep brushing.
I’ve got to soap her down next, and there’s a wiggle of nerves in my stomach at the thought that she might try and take my hand off when I touch her again.
Technically, I wasn’t supposed to go near the horses we brought home with us two days ago. Rowe’s been so busy with the black one out in the pen that he hasn’t had a chance to figure out just how bad the three new ones are. Waiting any longer wasn’t going to work for me, though.
The mare was the easiest for me to approach.
Between the gelding and the stud, she was the one I figured I’d try first. She isn’t outright aggressive and instead suffers from bone-deep terror.
Every move I make spooks her, but despite every opportunity I give her to back away, she doesn’t.
She trusts me enough not to attack and run off, at least. That’s something.
There’s a deep, aching pain moving through my abdomen today, but the same way I have all morning, I ignore it and focus on work.
I carefully hang the hose back up and drop an arm into the soapy bucket of water to grab the sponge I’ve had soaking in it.
My elbow-length rubber gloves are slick inside with the sweat from my fingers as I hold the sponge in front of her, letting her sniff and examine it.
She blows out a breath as if accepting it, and I start running it down her body.
The missing patches of her coat make my heart drop every time I pass them.
The stink from manure and other things too gross to mention still lingers in the air, reminding me just how filthy I’m about to get.
Her mane is a beautiful light blonde a shade brighter than her body.
I begin working the soap into it, trying to detangle the knots.
She tenses slightly, unsure about my grip on her hair, before relaxing.
I take my time with her, not missing so much as an inch of her body or strand of hair.
By the time I’ve finished soaping and scrubbing, I’ve had to empty and refill the bucket three times with clean water.
My neck is wet and sticky, along with my back and behind my knees.
The breath sawing in and out of me is almost embarrassing from how much effort it’s taken to get her clean.
My painkillers have worn off too. Period cramps are fucking hell on earth for me, but I can usually weather them better than this. Between the stabbing pain and the decline of my emotional state due to the hormonal changes, I’m a mess today.
Nothing was going to stop me from taking care of at least one of these horses, though. Not even if I want to cry in pain while sitting alone in a hot shower for hours.
“I’m going to spray you down again, sweet girl. Try not to crack my rib cage with your hoof, alright?” I murmur, slowly tugging the hose over.
She’s not as nervous this time, but her hooves still shuffle when I turn it on and spray them.
Inch by inch, I wash the soap off her legs and then move to her mane, working through the strands with more care than I’ve ever used on my own hair.
I move front to back, making sure she’s completely soap-free before focusing on her tail and the thick soap I’ve left on her hindside.
The mess on the floor is nearly enough to turn my stomach again, but I swallow my gag and focus on working through the blonde tail.
If I wasn’t already tempted to go back to Walt’s ranch and shove a shovel down his throat, I would be by the time the water runs clear.
I give the floor a quick spray and hang the hose again.
“Look at you. You’re like a brand-new horse.” I stroke my palm down her clean back and give her a pat. “Time to dry off and get a good, long detangling.”
I think having her mane and tail combed is her favourite part of a grooming. She doesn’t so much as move a muscle when I spray them heavily with the detangler and start brushing. If horses could moan, I think she probably would. It’s the same reaction I have when someone plays with my hair.
And if I spend a few extra minutes brushing her, so what?
Once she starts moving again, I take that as a sign and step back. My comb goes onto the growing pile of dirty tools, and then I’m using a damp cloth to wipe at her face. She likes this part less but doesn’t try to bite my head off.
“Alright. You’re all done for now. I’m going to have the farrier come to fix your hooves tomorrow, though. And you’re going to be nice.”
I put her lead back on and guide her out of the stall and toward hers. We pass the boys who always seem to be in here before I pause.
“Hey, you,” I call.
The one who I think is Brock whips around from the stall beside Diesel’s and looks at me, eyes wide. “Yeah?”
“Spray down the floor in the grooming stall for me.”
“Uh, yeah, sure. I can do that,” he rambles, nodding quickly.
“Are you sure about that? You look like you’re going to piss yourself.”
He flushes, turning a deep shade of red. “I’ve just never been in there. I don’t want to do anything wrong.”
“You’re washing the floor, Brock. You can’t really mess that up.”
“Will you be here still? In case?”
I spend a moment longer than usual to find a reply, not wanting to hurt the kid’s feelings. Fuck, it would be so easy to lash out right now. Maybe that would distract me from the teeth gnawing at my womb.
“I’m going to give you some friendly advice.”
“Alright,” he mutters, rocking back on his heels.
“If you’re going to last the entire summer here, you need to stop being so worried about all the wrong shit.
This ranch is going to knock you on your ass so hard you won’t be able to get up again if you don’t.
But I mean, if you’re okay with spending every day locked up in here cleaning, then carry on.
There’s more to this place than this stable for you to explore. ”
“Everyone here scares the hell out of me,” he says, somehow turning even redder.
I laugh, swapping the horse’s lead to my other hand so I can turn to face him properly.
“For good reason. They’re not going to hurt you, though.
We’re just giving you a hard time so your skin is thick enough that it won’t bleed when you inevitably fall and scrape it.
You’ll learn to get up and brush it off without flinching.
That is, if you want more than shit duty. ”
“Is that why everyone here doesn’t look like they’re scared of anything?”
“We’re scared of just as much as you are. We just don’t show it, kid. That’s the only way you’ll survive a place like this.”
He lowers his chin, considering my words as his shoulders straighten. “I’ll clean the stall for you.”
“Good choice.” I start toward the mare’s stall again, not bothering to look at Brock when I speak again. “You know where Rowe is?”
“In the round pen.”
“Still?”
I unhook the gate and pull it open. The horse walks inside, recognizing this stall as her new home.
“I think so,” he says, sounding further away now.
If I knew this kid at all, I’d be proud that he’s actually following through. Maybe this place won’t eat him alive after all.
Humming under my breath, I settle the mare into the stall and give her side a small pat before stepping out.
I lock the gate behind me and give her one last comforting glance.
She looks better, but I know the pain and the neglect runs deep inside of her.
It’ll be a long few months before she breaks free of it, if she can at all.
I hear the hose turning on and then water splashing the floor. Approval runs through me as the kid gets to work. I don’t bother going to check on him before snagging my hat from Diesel’s saddle hook and leaving the stable, heading right for the round pen.
Two days. It’s been two days since I was on my knees in front of Rowe, and not once since we’ve been back has he tried to speak to me. I don’t know if I’m more hurt than I am pissed off or if I just want to smack him upside the head so badly that I’m not thinking clearly.
The least he could do after I’ve had his cum in my mouth is check up on me. But we both know I expect far more than that. Maybe that’s why he’s avoiding me like a nervous teenage boy.
The sun heats my face and legs the moment I step outside. I’m still sweaty from the effort of grooming the mare, but the warmth of the day feels good. My hat shields my eyes from the strength of the rays beating down on me as I stare forward, locking onto the man in the pen.
Rowe’s no longer lingering outside the fence, waiting for the horse to come to him.
The closer I get to them, the easier it is to see what exactly he’s doing.
Standing perfectly still, the black horse watches as Rowe approaches him and touches his flank before retreating and then repeating the motions.
I notch my boot on the bottom rung of the fence and fold my arms over the top, watching.
Rowe’s got a rope tossed over his shoulder, just letting it hang there as he cautiously touches the horse.
There’s a patience to him that frustrates me as badly as it impresses me.
He’s always had it, whereas I like to get things done quickly and efficiently.
It’s the reason he’s the horse trainer, while I opted for something else.
We may have trained Diesel together, but that was different. Things weren’t the same back then as they are now.
Two thick arms join mine on the fence, slung there without a care. “You look like you want to hop the fence and wrap that rope around his neck.”
“Hey. I was beginning to think everyone here was avoiding me,” I bite out, glancing over and up at Tanner.
The crinkles at the corners of his smile should have me swooning.
He’s good-looking in the way that all cowboys are.
Rugged, hard-headed, and with a disturbing level of “doesn’t give a shit” confidence.
There’s a soft heart hidden in this one, though.
I’m not the girl to dig into his chest cavity to find it, but someone will.
“Not avoiding, Tilly. We just don’t wanna wind up tossed in the pen with that fucker when the boss finds out we’ve been chatting you up.”
“Pardon me?”
My blood chills, nearly frozen in my veins.
Tanner’s laugh is tight as his lips pull back into a wince. “Whoops.”
“Explain.”
“You know how it goes. You can’t be all that shocked. Otis said it wasn’t the first time he’s laid down a warning like this around here for you.”
I push off the fence and narrow my eyes on Tanner. His throat jumps with a swallow. The lingering frustration I haven’t been able to shake these last two days comes to a head.
“He’s got some fucking nerve. There’s no warning, Tanner. You make sure to spread that around the bunkhouse. Rowe has no claim on me.”
Okay, maybe a little bit of one, but right now, I’m revoking it. If I want to sleep my way through the staff on the ranch, I’m damn well going to. Especially when he thinks he can enjoy having me on my knees for him, only to ghost me for two days afterward.
Tanner retreats a step, nodding slowly. “Alright, Tilly. I’ll take that under consideration.”
We both know he won’t be doing that. They’re all too scared of Rowe to dare to piss him off, especially with the woman they’re still getting to know.
I take a long inhale and consider my options here. It’s still early, not even lunchtime yet. If Rowe feels so confident that he can put a ranch-wide Tilly ban in place, then I’m sure as shit not going to hold back anymore. We can play this game, but I’ll win every single time.
Starting now.