Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
HUDSON
I send the colt around the yard again. Harry hangs over the rail, barking orders. But all I can think about is Addy. The pain in her voice, in her eyes when she told me about Jewls. And how she blames herself for it. It was like someone had sucked the oxygen from the room and replaced it with electrified concrete. I had expected some kind of trauma related to horses, but not that. Not losing her champion partner to something like a snake in a hedge jump. That’s beyond belief.
“Hudson!” Harry snaps.
I shake my head and realize I have let go of the lariat. The colt is standing near the rail, facing me. Fuck. The last thing I need is the old man getting it in his head that I can’t do my job. Sweet Jesus. I snatch up the lariat and send the colt around.
“I want him under saddle in the next month,” Harry says.
“Yep.”
“Also, how is Addy coming along with her lessons? She needs to be on that roundup.”
“Good. Back on the horse, just need to get her moving out.” A slight exaggeration. But we have extra lessons now, so she won’t be far off from riding out in the fields.
“Nice work, son. I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Yup.”
He stands there for a moment, studying me, as if what I’m not saying is written on my face and in my body language. The same way I look at a horse. Reading body language. But he shakes his head and wanders back to the homestead, and I cluck my tongue to send the horse into a lope.
When he handles the basic commands at all gaits, I bring him to a halt and throw a blanket over his back. He shuffles on his feet, nickering, but doesn’t shy away. Good start. I rub his face and talk softly to him before sliding the blanket off and back on again. After a few rounds of blanket treatment, when he is calm with the new weight, I call it a day and walk him back to his pasture.
I saddle up my own dark gelding, Rocket, and lope down the laneway. Charlie trots beside me. Time to check on my mares in foal. I will have to schedule another visit for them with Addy. It’s been almost a month since their last checkup. I make good time to the mares’ paddock and ride between them.
Everything appears fine. Their bellies grow bigger with every week that passes. I make a mental note to bring Addy down on Saturday after her lesson. Twelve foals will make for a fine little herd to sell, either broken or green. And it will be a boost for the ranch’s finances nonetheless.
I ride home and put the horse and tack away, making a beeline for the homestead. There is one last section of fence line to be done. Reed can help me. I walk through the front door. “Reed?”
“Kitchen.” His voice is flat. Probably trying to think of a way to weasel out of the fencing. I have news for you, little brother. I file through the foyer and into the kitchen. He is reading a sheet of paper at the kitchen table.
“We have that last section of fence left. You’re it , lover boy, let’s go.”
He folds the page in half and places it on the table.
“What ya readin’?”
“Nothing, some instructions for the post-factory gadget for my truck.” But his gaze is stuck on the sheet of paper, not meeting mine. Liar. I lunge for the paper. He dives for it, but he’s too slow. I leap over the sofa, and he groans, stopping before the chair, his face screwed up with something like regret, arms limp by his side.
With a frown, I open the paper. It’s a printout of a news article. The title in bold print is like a slap to the face. Talented Almost Olympian, Adeline Howard, Survives Freak Accident at Qualifiers.
Reed’s face turns pleading. “Huddo, sorry man, Ma found it. We only wanted to know what happened.”
I stare at the article. The image of a younger version of Addy. Her horse, Jewls, stands beside her. They make a stunning pair. And my gut sinks like a rock. Because I know exactly how this story went. And how much that mare meant to her. Absentmindedly, I hand the paper back to Reed over the sofa. He takes it tentatively. “She didn’t tell you?”
“She told me yesterday.”
“Fuck bro, sorry. I know what she means to you.”
With that, I snap my head up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know, like she’s your captain.”
As if some imaginary force slapped me hard on the back, the air in my lungs disappears. “Don’t be fucking stupid,” I finally rasp.
My little brother tilts his head. “Seriously, Huddo, you must be the only one who can’t see it. Even the dog can see it.”
“Howard is my client. She is our vet. That’s it.”
“Yup.” His eyebrows are raised and pinched.
“Fence line, Reed, now!”
I turn on my heel and stalk out the door and to the truck. I have no idea why I am angry at my family. If anyone deserves wrath, it’s me. For being so goddamn stupid. For letting my heart get involved when I am in no position to give it away. Not after last time.
Reed makes quick work of the fencing while I haphazardly help, lost in thought. How did things change so much in a month? I crank the lever on the strainers and make one last adjustment to the bottom wire.
“How’s the house coming along?” Reed interrupts my tortured thoughts.
“Fine.”
“You know, when you take over this place, you’re gonna regret building so far away from the homestead. All that drive time, Huddo.”
“I’ll live.”
I’ll live. The same thing Addy said to me after she told me about her accident. I push the thought out of my mind. The most we can be is friends. Captain or no captain, Addy isn’t interested in commandeering this ship. For fuck’s sake, she’s leaving after her six months is up. It’s a wasted effort thinking about it.
I huff a laugh at myself.
Reed raises an eyebrow at my muttering self-talk.
Don’t think about Adeline Howard. Tell that to my gut, my aching chest. To every hardened inch in my pants when she’s around. You may as well tell me don’t breathe .
The tantalizing scent of pot roast wafts from the kitchen to the dining table. Harry and Reed are already sitting down when I wander in. Ma rushes down the hall toward me, muttering something about burning veggies. I take a seat at the table. “What’s with Ma?”
“She’s been like this all day. In and out of the study, like a woman possessed.”
“Still digging up things she should leave well enough alone?” I ask.
“What’s she digging up?” Harry chimes in, putting his paper on the table.
“Ma found an article about Addy this morning,” Reed says.
I flick the knife on the table around on its weighted handle. It spins easily on the polished wood.
“That so? What did it say?”
“A write-up about her losing her horse in the accident.”
“Oh, how did that happen?” Harry asks.
I flick the knife harder.
“Snake bite on a show jumping course.” Reed’s answer is short but accurate. As if he can sense my growing annoyance at the both of them talking about Addy.
“Show jumper, hey,” Harry says, as if imagining Addy sailing over a jump.
“At the Olympic qualifiers, too. She must have been really something, Harry,” Reed adds.
I slam the knife on the table. Both men snap their gazes to where I sit, knife still under my hand. “Stop talking about her like she’s some topic of gossip!”
Reed throws both hands up over his shoulders. “Take it easy, Huddo. I’m only telling Harry her story.”
“If she wanted you all to know, she would have told you.” I push up out of the chair and storm to the study. The laptop is still on. I don’t dare look at the tabs Ma has open. I don’t want to see or hear or imagine anything else about Addy hurt or scared or in pain.
Fucking sweet Jesus.
I run both hands through my hair and my shortened breaths steel my steady footing. I slump on the reading chair in the corner before I sink to the ground. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose. Thinking of taxes, shoveling horseshit, and anything that will get that picture of young Addy and her beloved horse out of my head. And when her broken face from yesterday stops flipping through my mind on replay, I sigh and open my eyes.
Ma stands in the doorway.
“She told you?”
I don’t trust my words. Anger, frustration, and something like helplessness are still coursing through my veins. So, I simply nod.
“We wanted to understand, Huddy. It wasn’t meant to be intrusive.”
“Great job, Ma.”
She swallows, and I know I hurt her feelings. And when I am sure I won’t say something even stupider, I stand and walk to where she leans on the doorframe. “Sorry, Ma. I don’t know why this is riling me up so much.”
She pulls an incredulous face and tilts her head before patting my chest. “My love, I am one hundred percent certain you’ll figure it out.”
Dinner is quiet. Only the sounds of cutlery clinking make it past the guilt-ridden murmurs of my family.
“Oh, I forgot to say, Mackinlay is coming home this weekend. He got off tour early.” Ma’s face lights up.
“Awesome, I could use some better company than king grumpy over here.” Reed points his fork at me.
I throw him a scowl, and he huffs a laugh.
“How long does he have off?” Harry asks.
“A few months, possibly three if the other team can fill in for his unit. He won’t be here for Thanksgiving.” Ma’s expression deflates. She misses him and worries like nothing else for Mack. Having a son in the army wasn’t part of her plan for us boys. But Mack has always done what Mack wants. And when he enlisted, she supported him the only way she knew how—with unconditional love and a shit ton of baked goods.
“Speaking of family business,” Harry starts. Reed puts his fork down and steeples his fingers. I slump back in my chair. “We should go over the last quarter for the ranch and the company holdings.”
“Fire away,” I say, waving my hand in the air.
Harry sits up in his chair and picks up a small manilla folder from the table by his plate. “This will be the last roundup I’m on. You will take point this roundup, Hudson. And when we get back, the money from these cattle will go towards our off-ranch investments, namely the clinic. Justin wants out. So, we will be buying him out. Along with the clinic, we have half shares over in Great Falls. And with the equity that brings, we will start looking at other ranches. Adding another two into the business is smart. However, all this is to say that the outcome of the roundup will be your testing point. It’s high time you called the shots. If you are to take over the ranch at the end of the year, I want to see some leadership. The ranch doesn’t need a yes-man, son.”
Reed’s gaze is firmly fixed to the plate in front of him. Harry’s burns into mine.
So, this is it. This is how my old man makes me step up and take the reins. I knew it was coming. In all honesty, I thought he would have had this conversation with me four years ago. And I have spent the last four years trying to give him whatever he wants, thinking that was what it would take. And I couldn’t have been more fucking wrong. Yes-man, Pa’s version of a pushover. No wonder he waited. Goddamn.
“Yes—” I shift on my seat. “Alright, I’ll make it happen.”
“Good. You will need to have Addy ready. I won’t lose any animals because of a lack of a willing ride-along vet. And the foals, half of those will need to be sold after the roundup. It will take every last penny to buy out that hack, Justin. God knows he has had long enough to run the clinic into the ground. And besides, we will need that equity for further growth.”
“On it.”
“Good. Now, onto more pleasant business. Where you planning on takin’ Addy for her camping trip? It would be good for her to see how the ranch operates and the pure scale of this all.”
My eyes widen, how the hell does he know about that?
“Um, she loved the hill under the new fence line on the north end. Probably there.”
Reed clears his throat.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I dunno, Huddo, why don’t you take her to the vista? It’s much nicer. Unless you’re worried she’ll notice that half-built house of yours...”
“I’ve already taken her up to the house,” I grunt and slouch in my chair, folding my arms. Why is everyone in this house so damn invested in a simple camping trip? Reed drops his fork, his eyes widening.
“You have?” Ma pipes up. Her face is lit up with excitement. Now I get it. They all think Addy and I are a thing. Sorry to disappoint. “Yup, I had to get her out of here when Harry couldn’t mind his own business during Sunday lunch. Was a quick visit, don’t read into it, Ma.”
“Oh, I definitely won’t.”
Reed sniggers and runs a hand through his hair. I glare at him until the stupid expression on his face slips.
But it’s Harry’s face of stone that sees us all quiet. “Don’t want to get involved with her, son. In a few months, you will practically be her boss. One of them, at least. She’s off-limits.” His brows are pulled down, eyes studying me deep. And then it dawns on me: if things don’t go well with the clinic, or if it’s a mess when Harry takes over completely, Addy’s job might not be safe. And I will be part of the decisions around what happens to the clinic and the employees.
No pressure, Hudson. You only need to ensure twelve healthy, salable purebred foals, pull off the biggest roundup of the year with a vet who can’t get out of the round yard on a horse, bring in every last head of cattle to make sure the business side of our—what did Justin call it... dynasty, or was it empire—can thrive and not sink like the fucking Titanic.
Not be romantically involved with the most incredible woman I have ever met. And finally, prove to my old man that I have what it takes to run a ranch and not follow orders like some idiot. Nah, no pressure at all.
Oh, and all before Thanksgiving.
Fuck my life.