Chapter Three
I let down the window and looked out…it seemed like a place of considerable magnitude.
I’m driving to Resilience Ranch, brainstorming ways I might approach the owners.
If they don’t welcome drop-ins, things could get awkward.
Then I notice the truck ahead of me; it’s towing a horse trailer.
Fingers crossed that we’re headed to the same place.
I fall in behind it as it turns onto the ranch’s entrance drive—a mile of white gravel lined with pines that look like scruffy Christmas trees someone forgot to decorate.
At the gate, a knotty wood plank bears a cursive sign: “Resilience Ranch. Facing the Challenge. Facing Forward.”
She’s talking to the delivery guy and doesn’t notice me climb out. “Good luck,” he tells her. “This mare’s feisty.”
“Great,” she says, though her tone suggests otherwise. “I was unaware we’d bought another one.” She whips around toward the main house; it’s a red wooden building with huge windows and a sculpture fountain out front. “Chet!” she calls. “You’re needed out here.”
A man emerges—tallish, sort of broad, but with lean muscle.
He’s got a bulbous nose and perhaps the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen.
But instead of deep brown, they’re midnight blue, almost black.
And his mouth, with its plump bottom lip, hangs in a crooked smirk like that expression froze on his face years ago.
He’s not classically handsome, but magnetic. Looking away from him might just take superhuman strength.
“What?” he demands. “This better be urgent, Axel Rose. Now is not a good time.”
She doesn’t flinch. “Did Birdy order another horse?”
Chet runs his fingers through his thick, dark, wavy hair, his bicep bulging as he raises his arm. “Crap. Another blasted horse? Not again. That woman is intent on making my life miserable.”
“So what do we do?” Axel Rose asks.
“Send the horse back,” Chet growls.
“No way,” the driver says. “That’s not happening, no matter how much you offer to pay me.”
Chet takes a deep breath, as if doing so is his last chance of not blowing a fuse. “I don’t have time for this, Axel Rose. Find a solution.” He stalks off without ever glancing my way.
The trailer rattles. The mare’s bucking. She’s scared and cramped. I step forward. “Let me.”
Axel Rose and the driver don’t seem to mind my jumping in. I stand beside the trailer and motion to the driver to unlock it. He does.
“What’s the horse’s name?” I ask.
“Miss Adele,” he says.
I slide the bolt and pull the latch, braced for a hurricane of hooves and muscle.
The trailer stinks of sweat and panic, the princess herself slamming her chest against the inner wall.
She’s gorgeous though. Hair the color of molasses, forelock a wild sweep, a perfect white stripe down her nose.
Her eyes are rolling, not just angry, but scared out of her mind.
“Hey, Miss Adele.” She pins her ears and shows her teeth. I get it. She’s had a rough morning.
“She bites,” the driver warns, offering me the rope.
“Yeah? Me too.” I take the rope, quick and careful, keeping my hand away from her mouth. Her entire body’s quivering, ready for a jailbreak. I slip into the trailer, angle my body against the squeeze, and start clicking my tongue. Familiar sounds. Comfort, or at least not an immediate threat.
Between tiny tugs and a little pressure at her jowl, I coax her to step backward. One wrong move and she’ll go up, or knock me ass-first into the gravel driveway. But I don’t lose my grip, and I don’t flinch when she pops up a couple inches. “Easy, girl. You got it.”
Miss Adele listens, and together we triangle waltz her out of the trailer and down the ramp. Outside, she throws her head and snorts, rolling her neck like a prizefighter showing off. She wants to run, but I keep hold of her.
“Okay, then,” the driver says. “I’m out of here.” Fast as lightning, he closes up the trailer, gets into his car, and drives away.
Once the dust has cleared, Axel Rose turns to me. “Weren’t you two together?”
“No,” I say. “Not in any sense of the word.” I grin, hoping to charm this lady so it won’t occur to her that I’m trespassing. “Hey, how about we put Miss Adele in the pasture so she can stretch her legs a bit and acclimate?”
“Yeah, of course,” Axel Rose says. “Unless you think she might spar with the other horses?”
“Well, yeah, that could happen. I’ll hold on to her while you lead those horses—” I gesture with my head toward them “—into the barn? Then Miss Adele can have free rein.”
“Okay.”
Axel Rose gets two horses, one with a freckled coat and the other a gorgeous copper-colored stallion, out of the ring and into the barn. Then I lead Miss Adele into the pasture, where she takes off running, grateful for the freedom.
Axel Rose turns to me. “Thank you for the help. I’m very grateful. But, um . . .” she wrinkles her nose “. . . who are you?”
“I’m Jane. It’s nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand to shake.
“And I’m Rose.” She shakes with me. “But everyone calls me Axel Rose. I got the nickname during my Bon Jovi groupie days.”
“Ah.”
“So, Jane, what brings you to Resilience Ranch?”
“Well . . .” I offer her my most winning smile. “I actually came here to see if you’re hiring. Maybe it was fate, me showing up when I did. It would have been devastating for Miss Adele if y’all had sent her back. She seems like a good horse. Betcha she’s just misunderstood.”
Axel Rose shifts her weight, looks at Miss Adele, and then back at me. “You’re here looking for a job?”
“Yes, ma’am. I grew up in Lexington, where my family owns a stable that boards and trains horses.
Now, while my background is in thoroughbreds, a horse is a horse, and my one true talent is understanding how to communicate with them.
Plus—I may be small, but I’m strong, and I’m not opposed to menial labor, like mucking out stalls or hauling around feedbags.
Whatever chores need doing, I’m your gal. ”
Axel Rose takes all this in, her face barely moving. “Why here?” she asks.
“Pardon?”
“Why Resilience Ranch?” Her tone isn’t unkind, just curious. “Why not some other ranch where there’s less work but more excitement? We take in displaced horses. Surely you’d have more fun at a real training ranch. Or why not just stay in Kentucky?”
I scuff my heel against the dusty ground.
“Simple. I left Kentucky after catching my fiancé in a compromising position with my sister-in-law.” Axel Rose’s mouth drops open.
I hold up one hand, fingers splayed, keeping her from breaking in.
“There was more to it than that, of course, but you get my gist.” I shrug.
“Anyhow, I drove out West because horses are my life and I figured this might be where I belong. My best friend Bront? says it’s like The Chicks’ song, ‘Wide Open Spaces,’ that I need room to make a big mistake.
Not,” I quickly amend, “that I’ll make a big mistake here, should you decide to hire me.
But I’m extremely empathetic and I hate causing horses a moment’s pain.
Couldn’t bring myself to use a riding crop—and if Resilience Ranch aims to give down-on-their-luck horses a second chance, that’s perfect because what they really need is kindness, right?
Being kind to horses is all I want to do. ”
Realizing that I’ve gone on so long that I’m out of breath, I stop and inhale. “Did that answer your questions?” I keep my tone pleasant and light. Yet also (hopefully) professional.
There’s a breeze. Axel Rose tucks that pink streak of hair behind her ear, out of her eyes. Nevertheless, she squints at me. “Do you have a criminal background?”
“Um, do parking tickets count?”
“No,” Axel Rose replies. “What about your employment history? Ever been fired? Can you provide me references?”
“Mmm . . .” Under Axel Rose’s gaze, I wilt a bit. “My entire employment history has been at my family’s business, Adkins Stables. My parents and my older brother, Reed, they’re my only references, and I already know what they’ll say.”
“What’s that?” Axel Rose asks.
“That I’m a well-intentioned, literal mess, because every time a horse suffers, I puke.”
“Come again?”
“Ya see,” I say, gesturing at my belly, “I have a sensitive stomach, and it’s scientific fact that our emotions and digestive systems are linked.
But it’s not as bad as my family would make it sound.
” I swing my arms toward Miss Adele. “I didn’t puke just now, while helping her out.
Even when that brooding guy from inside the house suggested sending her back, I kept myself together. ”
“You mean Chet?” Axel Rose asks.
“Yes, right. I heard you call him that.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “You don’t know who he is?”
I shake my head.
“What about his girlfriend, Birdy Banks?”
“Nope,” I say. “Why, are they famous?”
“Internet famous,” Axel Rose answers.
“That explains it,” I reply. “Ever since someone filmed me puking during a horse race, I’ve been allergic to social media.”
Axel Rose seems to deeply consider this.
She paces a bit, sort of in a circle, then ends up right back in front of me.
Gesturing behind her, toward a trailer, she asks, “Would you be interested in a twenty-four seven kinda gig? Where you’d live here and you’d always be available whenever the horses need you? ”
“Totally,” I reply. “I would love that.”
Axel Rose hesitates, like she’s preloading a response, then reaches out with both hands and gives me a hug. I’m so shocked that it takes me three, maybe four, seconds to hug her back.
“Sorry,” she says, pulling away. “I don’t often end job interviews with a hug, but you were so damn honest and upfront. I feel like we’re already good friends. Plus, you just may be the answer to my prayers.”
“Oh!” I exclaim. “Does that mean I’m hired?”
“God yes. Come on, Jane, I’ll give you a tour and show you the lay of the land.” Axel Rose starts walking toward the trailer.
I quickly follow. “Thank you,” I say. “But don’t you need to clear it with that Chet guy first?”
She barks out a laugh. “He said to find a solution. You’re my solution. Once he emerges from his supervillain lair, I’ll give him the happy news.”
We reach the squat trailer with its lopsided porch and wind chimes tinkling in the breeze.
Inside, it’s homey. There’s a small, overstuffed couch and a rickety coffee table.
Also a twin bed tucked in one corner, and a kitchenette with a microwave and an assortment of mismatched mugs.
I peek into the bathroom: clean, with a shower stall and a vanity mirror.
“You’ll have the place to yourself,” Axel Rose says.
“What about you?” I ask. “You don’t live on the grounds?”
“God no. My husband might have an issue with that.” She smiles.
“I love horses, and I’ve worked for this ranch, mostly part-time, ever since I moved to Sugar Pine over thirty years ago.
The ranch has changed hands multiple times, and it’s always been slightly more than a hobby for me.
But when Chet and Birdy started Resilience Ranch, I pretty much offered to work for free, since I believe in their mission so damn much.
Chet refused. Instead, he’s paying me several times more than what I’m actually worth.
But I’m out of my depth here. So is Chet, though occasionally I see him trying with the horses.
Birdy, not so much. And now that she’s off in Florida, being a cancer advocate—”
“Slow down,” I say. “Tell me more about Chet and Birdy?”
“Oh, right. You aren’t even aware of who they are.
” Axel Rose sits at the small table, inviting me to do the same.
“Chet Edwards invented ShopSpot, that e-commerce app. He sold his shares, and now he’s a billionaire.
His girlfriend, Birdy Banks, is a wellness influencer with a holistic approach to fighting non-Hodgkin lymphoma.
That’s why they bought this ranch, so Birdy could recover and post pictures of herself with the horses in need.
But now she’s off, working for this organization that advocates a combo of science-based and holistic cancer treatments. ”
I blink twice. “Chet’s girlfriend has cancer?” He was so mean, I think to myself, claiming that she’s intent on making his life miserable.
“Birdy’s in remission,” Axel Rose says. “Between you and me, caring for the horses was more than she bargained for. Supposedly, she’ll return in a few weeks.”
“What about Chet?” I ask. “Is he always so abrupt?”
Shifting her weight, Axel Rose pauses. “He’s a bit of a recluse. And lately he’s been very grumpy.”
I swallow roughly. “When should I introduce myself?”
Axel Rose bites her bottom lip, suddenly seeming uncomfortable. “Not right now,” she states. “As you witnessed, he’s in a bit of a mood today.”
“Okay.” I paste on a chipper smile. “Well, I’m eager to meet the horses, and to get to know Miss Adele better.”
“You bet,” Axel Rose says. “Those horses are going to love you.”