Chapter 4
Chapter Four
ADDY
“ Y eah, sorry, Adeline. You will have to go with, I’m afraid.”
I stare at the face of my boss. The one with the apparent reputation. Ugh.
“But I don’t ride anymore. I probably won’t even be able to keep up.”
He leans back in his office chair and flips a pen through his fingers. His blond hair and green eyes are easy enough to look at, but that menacing smile that doesn’t meet his eyes may as well be swinging a giant red flag around. And he is my boss.
Hudson’s words replay in my head every time my boss gets close. Even just to help with procedures. But I can’t shake the icks when he’s near. This is going to be a long six months. That’s the length of my contract, with the opportunity to stay on if I want to—or more like, if they want me to stay. Or not, if they don’t.
He gives me the same kind of vibes Adam used to. So, I will be keeping this as professional as it gets. No friendship like I had with my fellow interns and Joe. I nod and walk from his office. Luckily, I have patients to check on. One unlucky working dog, a couple of cats with injuries from various scrapes they got themselves into. No other horse visits this week, as far as I know. And I find myself looking forward to Saturday. For the horses. It’s been too long since I was around my favorite beauties.
I finish my shift and head to the grocery store for a few things. After buying a few treats and some white wine, I head home to the townhouse. I pack away the food, keeping everything organized and stored away in their categories: dairy, fruits, vegetables, meat, grains. Wine for the freezer. A habit I picked up from my mom so many years ago. Her way in the kitchen is influenced by her long and very successful career as a chef. Dad and I always ate well. I miss her cooking. I miss her. I miss Dad. I pluck my phone from my back pocket.
Hey, busy?
I send the text to Mom.
The phone vibrates in my hand a heartbeat later. Incoming call. Mom. I slide to answer.
“Hey, Mama.”
“Hey, Adds. All settled in okay?”
“Yeah, I guess so. The place they set me up in is amazing. The clinic is small but busy. Had a call out first thing yesterday to a ranch.”
“Wow! First day and on call out already. Go Adds.”
I chuckle at her enthusiasm. My parents have always had my back, no matter what. And I hesitate with my next words. “I guess. They want me to go on this roundup. And I would have to ride. I mean, I have to ride along.”
The phone is silent.
“Would that be a bad thing, hon?”
“Mom,” I say, the word a pull between a plea and whisper.
“It’s been over eight years, Addy. And the accident was not your fault. Riding was such a wonderful part of your life. If you have a chance to get it back with these ranch people, you should at least try.”
“Maybe.”
“Did they offer to help you ride again, or is it part of the job?”
“Um, both?”
“Oh?”
“The man that owns the ranch, Harry Rawlins, he must have some sway around here. He wants their vet along on the roundup. And since that’s me now, he said his son can help me get back on a horse.”
“His son?”
Her voice has risen an octave, and I huff a laugh.
“Yes, Hudson. Apparently, he has a way with horses,” I say, using my most ridiculous voice. She bursts out laughing.
“As long as he doesn’t have a way with their riders,” she teases.
“Oh god, Mom, seriously, no. He is like the grumpiest guy I have ever met. Utterly icy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t even show up to our first lesson.”
“When is it?”
“Saturday. Ugh, should I not go?”
“Absolutely not! You want this job, and I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, my girl. Pun intended, sweetheart.” She laughs.
I groan and she cracks up.
Mom and her lame jokes. But she has a point—I want this job. It’s part of my plan. So, I guess getting back on the horse with Hudson’s help is also now part of the plan.
“Love you, Mama. Kiss Dad for me, will you?”
“You know I will. And, Adds?”
“Yeah?”
“I am so excited for you. You got this, my love.”
“Thanks, Mama.”
She hangs up and I slide down the kitchen cupboard and sit on the floor. I study the white-paneled drawers in the center island. So, I’m doing this. I’m getting back on the horse...
And if I am honest with myself... I’m scared shitless.
The ranch is quiet when I pull into the driveway of the homestead early Saturday morning. I kill the engine and step out. I brought riding boots and a better button-down shirt. I haven’t ridden in anything but jodhpurs and top boots my entire life. It’s odd to be about to ride and not dressed like an equestrian. But I am not about to wear tight-fitting pants around the grumpy cowboy.
“Hello there!” a woman calls, and I recognize her from the start of the week. Mrs. Rawlins.
“Hi,” I call back with a wave. She beckons me over, and I walk through the quaint white gate flanked by hedges and into the yard. Flowers are planted under each of the ancient trees that are dotted around the yard.
“Addy, come inside. I’m Louisa. Hudson will be along in a moment; he’s with one of the older mares.”
“Oh, thanks. Your homestead is gorgeous.”
She waves me off, but a smile splits her happy face. Her light brown hair is tied up. Her face is like her youngest son’s. A diamond face with prominent cheekbones and green eyes.
“Would you like a cup of coffee or tea while you wait? Just made a fresh batch of cookies for the boys.”
The boys. Adorable.
“Sure, that would be lovely.” I follow her inside. Reed sits at the table, mug in one hand, papers in the other. He looks up when he realizes someone is following his mother. “Hey, Addy.”
“Hi,” I offer, and Louisa ushers me to a seat at the table and slides the plate of cookies toward me.
“She’s feeding you. She likes you,” Reed says and winks, but goes back to his papers.
I stifle an awkward laugh and take a cookie, shoving it into my mouth. The kitchen is huge. My mom would die for a setup like this, and I can imagine her in this space, whizzing around, magnificent aromas drifting through the place. Louisa returns with a pot of coffee. “Sorry, I only have drip coffee at the moment.”
“That’s wonderful, thank you.”
I take the mug from her, and she fills it. “You take cream and sugar, lovely?”
“Ah, just cream. Sweet enough, thanks.”
Reed smiles behind his papers, schooling it back to a thin line the second he sees me look at him. Okay... He seems around my age, but I can never be sure. The papers appear to be tax papers of some sort. I sip the coffee. It’s hot and bitter. I love it.
“Ma, have you seen—” Hudson stops in the doorway.
“Oh hey, sorry, I was early.” I wave and offer him a tiny smile. Reed puts the papers down, his eyes trained on his big brother. Hudson clears his throat and steps inside.
“We should get started.”
Hello to you, too. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him.
“Hudson Andrew Rawlins, manners,” Louisa snaps.
“Sorry, can we please get a start, Dr. Howard?”
Reed raises an eyebrow as I stand, leaving the coffee on the table. “Thanks for the coffee, Louisa.”
“You’re most welcome, hon.” She smiles at me and turns back to her work.
I follow Hudson out the door. He is halfway to the barn before I catch up to him. “What are we doing today?”
“Chores.”
“Chores? So, not riding.”
He stops and turns back. He does that a lot. “Nope, you’re not ready.”
What the hell? He doesn’t know a thing about me, let alone my riding abilities. “Can you call me Addy?”
“No.” He turns and walks toward the closest barn. Reluctantly, I follow. Like father, like son.
“If I am not going near a horse today, what’s the point?”
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he turns back and hands me a scooping rake. For horse shit.
“With all due respect, Monty Roberts, how are you supposed to get me back on a horse without an actual horse?”
I mean, I had to psych myself up for the past three days to have the nerve to do this, and now he is telling me I can’t. What the hell is his problem?
“When you’re done there, the water troughs need draining and scrubbing. All six of them. We break at lunch.”
My mouth gapes as he turns to walk away. “Hey!”
He stops and looks back. “What?”
“How the hell do you know what I’m not ready for without even assessing me around or on a horse?”
He closes the space between us in a heartbeat. He is a solid four inches taller than me. With him this close to me, my breath disappears, and I grapple a swallow. I meet his gaze. But it’s not angry, only searching.
He tilts his head. “I saw the way you reacted when Harry brought it up the other day. That’s all I need to know. You’re not ready.” He pushes the rake toward me, still in my grip. “Chores.”
I grunt in annoyance and turn back to the barn, assuming the shit shoveling happens in here. Making short work of the first stall, I’m starting on the next when I hear the rumble of a big engine. I stand and stretch my back, sinking my hands into my lower back to ease the ache. A silver semi loaded with hay bales pulls up outside.
The other side of the barn is empty, but the remnants of old hay litter the ground. That’s a lot of hay. Hudson appears a moment later, talking to the driver. The older man shuts off the engine and gets down, heading to the house. Reed jogs over to the semi and helps his brother remove the tie-down straps.
I move to the next stall and start raking the piles into the rubber tub outside the door. Hudson climbs onto the top of the load of hay and starts tossing the bales down. They hit the ground with a hiss and Reed carries them into the barn, stacking them neatly against the wall. After an hour of the same, both men are sweaty, and Hudson pulls his shirt over his head.
I finish the last stall and move to the first water trough. It has a float. Crap, how do these things work, again? I forget how to shut it off. Which sweaty, muscle-bound guy shall I ask for help? I snort out loud at my stupid thoughts. Guessing Reed is a safer bet, I wander into the barn hoping to find him stacking the bales.
Hudson is busy stacking bale upon bale as I stop in the center of the barn. His arms flex, his back works as he tosses the bales on top of each other and straightens them. His light brown hair that I haven’t even seen in full until now is messy, with bits of hay sticking out of it. I chuckle and he spins back.
He stands, chest heaving, arms at his side, his hard stomach tight. The jeans and boots he is wearing are also covered in bits of hay. My heart rate quickens as butterflies take flight, filling my stomach. Holy shit.
His blue eyes narrow. “Done already?”
“I—” I clear my throat and huff a strangled laugh. “Ah no, how do I disable the float? I couldn’t remember.”
He walks to where I stand. He smells hot and sweaty and goddamn amazing. A mix of hay and sandalwood. And that face. His jaw. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling out a few short lengths of hay, flicking them to the ground. “Flip the small metal clasp at the joint where it meets the rest of the mechanism. Then pull the stopper at the end of the tub.”
“Thanks,” I say, but the word is weak.
“Anytime, Dr. Howard.” He doesn’t move, staring at me as I stare at him. At his very well-toned chest. Fuck.
I force a small, weak smile and turn back, heading back to the trough and said float, internally berating myself the entire way. How can someone so frustrating be so goddamn hot?
Life is utterly unfair.
Utterly.
I do as he directed and drain the trough. I have no idea why I am cleaning it; it’s one of the cleanest I have seen. I shift my focus up from scrubbing when Hudson walks past, leading a colt. The chestnut yearling is high-stepping, most likely anticipating what is coming. They enter the round yard, and Hudson adjusts his hat before removing the lead from the halter.
I stand and wander to the rail to watch. He clicks his tongue, and the horse trots around the pen. The communication between man and horse is invisible and mesmerizing. He flicks the rope behind him, and the colt breaks into a lope.
He is stunning. The horse, that is.
Watching the two of them makes me miss the bond between horse and rider.
“Woah boy, woah.” Hudson holds a hand up, and the yearling slows. This time, the man waits in the center until the colt comes to him. He rubs a hand over his forehead and eyes before clipping the lead back on. They walk past the rail I lean on, heading for the gate. I pop through and open it for them. Hudson tips his hat as he walks past, but after a few steps, he stops and the horse halts behind him. He finds my gaze and I straighten, waiting for his next annoyance-laced words.
“Now, that look right there on your face, that is the reaction you should have around a horse, Dr. Howard.”
My eyes widen as I realize my mouth is gaping and my heart rate has peaked. And he’s right. This is the feeling that I once had with horses. I thought I had lost it forever. But somehow, this grump of a man knew where to find it.
There’s no turning back now. . .
Maybe I can do this.