Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
ADDY
T he descent down the mountain has been vastly and utterly understated. It’s rugged, hard riding, and the cattle have to be continually pushed back to stop them from racing down the side of it. Foam drips from Rocket’s mouth around the bit as Hudson spins him back to steady the mob for what seems like the thousandth time since we broke camp this morning.
Sergeant is faring a little better with us bringing up the tail like the previous days. But I can feel his steps shake a little every so often. My heart would break if something happened to him. So, I hold him back, take it even slower, and thank the heavens I’m the tail today.
Rocket is strung out. Hudson more so. Ned is trying to be helpful, shouting advice over the ruckus of the bellows, hooves, and branches snapping. Everything echoes through the mountain timber forest around us, amplifying the hustle, ratcheting up the tension all around.
Hudson is incredible.
Whoever says cowboys have laid-back lives is grossly naive. I am stressed for him. The herd is huge. The mountain is too steep.
When we finally come to a flatter spot on the mountainside, Hudson calls us to a stop. Rocket is sucking in huge breaths. His sides flare with every forced gulp of air. He needs a break, badly. I dismount, ignoring the pain that lances through my hips.
I make my way to where Hudson is walking him in a small circle, trying to get the horse’s breathing under control as he wipes sweat from his forehead with his arm, hat in hand. It’s freezing, and this man is sweating up a storm.
“You need to swap him out, Huddy.”
His gaze snaps to mine.
“Let me take Rocket for the next few hours. You take Sergeant.”
“You sure that’s gonna be okay?”
“I’m more worried about Rocket than anything else.”
“Sure, we’ll break for a bit.”
“Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do?”
“No, this is what it is. The descent is always the hardest part. We’ll make it.”
But his words aren’t reflected in his worry-filled eyes. I know he is under pressure to bring every beast home. Harry’s orders. And the ranch needs the income. Nobody talks about it, but it is evident in everything that they do, every penny counts. Especially when they are in business with other people, such as Justin Morley.
I hope Harry knows what he’s doing with that one. Morley is not what I would call a stand-up guy in any field. But Harry is nobody’s fool. He’s probably been waiting for the day he can afford to buy that shithead out. Wouldn’t that be something .
Ned and his mare appear by my side. “She’s doing good today. You have the magic touch, Miss Addy.”
“Actually, I didn’t find a stone bruise. Maybe it was a small rock or something under one of her shoes, but it worked its way out. Either way, there was no damage I could see.”
Ned gives my arm a squeeze and walks off to sit on a log. It must be a hard job for the older men.
I pluck the canteen from the side of my saddle and suck down a few mouthfuls. I hold my water out to Hudson. “Drink.”
He takes it and guzzles it, letting water spill and run down his throat, eyes closed. Butterflies take flight in my belly, and I can’t keep my lips from turning up into a smile. God, this man. When he swallows, he wipes his jaw and hands me back the canteen. I touch his jaw and dot a kiss to his lips. “Relax, Huddy, you’re brilliant at this.”
He huffs a strangled laugh and shakes his head. “Tell that to Harry.”
“Hudson,” I whisper but he walks away, taking Sergeant’s reins from my hands. I wrap my fingers around Rocket’s reins where he let them swing and rub a hand up the gelding’s face. “You’re amazing, you know that, Rocket? Look at you two go.” His breathing is a little slower. Walking him in another small circle, I wet his muzzle with my canteen. He laps at the water, and I drop my forehead to his cheek. “We’ll take it steady for a while.”
When Mick whistles, we are off again. With the stirrups adjusted to my length, I swing into Rocket’s saddle. It’s softer than mine. Worn to Hudson’s seat. The gelding walks on as we follow the rear of the herd. I secure Mira’s reins around the pommel, and she falls in beside Rocket. I make a point of rubbing his neck as we go, talking tenderly to him, hoping he settles from the pent-up state he was in before.
When a smaller beast straggles behind and wanders off to the west, I trot through the trees and head it back. Rocket negotiates the forest well and Mira is all but glued to his side. “Hup, hup.” I wave my hand to the side, pushing it back into the mob. An ache settles in my hips.
Keeping a keen eye on the animals at the back of the herd, I’m always looking for stragglers. This roundup means everything to Hudson. Every beast makes it down this mountain. Period. Only another night until we are back to the rendezvous point. And I am looking forward to seeing Mack and Reed. Not to mention Louisa. And her cooking. It’s worlds better than the rations we have been on.
But I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. It has me wondering if it would be plausible to take my vacation time and come and help on the ranch every roundup time. And then the thought that if I was visiting once a year, that would mean Hudson and I were no longer a thing. Are we even now? He is... His life is here.
Mine isn’t.
At least, it isn’t what I planned for myself. For my career. Working on cats and dogs day in, day out isn’t where I wanted to be. And it’s definitely not where my specialization lies. Another few head straggle over the timbered forest floor, and I push them back into the mob with Rocket’s help. “What do you think, Rocket? What would you do, hey, boy?” I lean forward but pain shoots through my left hip and I sit back with a hiss.
His head dips with every steady, grueling step down the mountain, putting a whole new meaning to the word workhorse. I search the front of the mob to find that white Stetson bobbing in front of the cattle. It stills before sliding sideways and I watch in utter fascination as Sergeant works, cutting back and forth, holding the hairy cattle back every time one of them gets the idea to run ahead. He is precise and so quick. God, he must be so damn bored with my quaint riding sessions. Patience in spades, that sweet horse. Like his owner.
Stifling the ache in my chest, I search the timbers on either side of me, making sure no herd member has been left behind. It will not be for lack of focus on my part that Hudson loses a single head of this mob.
Mick is yelling to Ned when I glance back to the noisy herd. A beast breaks away on Ned’s side.
He flies off after it, weaving between the trees ’til he rounds it and herds it back. His mare is agile and alert. These working horses are as in their element as their riders. It’s brilliant to witness. And I can tell, this life is something that would suck you in and hold you hostage. And men like Harry and Hudson wouldn’t have it any other way.
Or maybe they never stood a chance.
The sun has reached her apex when we clear the tree line of the world’s hardest mountainside and the rest of the mob, horses, and cowboys come into view. Ned whoops, throwing a hand up. Mick growls something that sounds like “about fucking time.” One hand on my stiff, painful hip, I sway with Sergeant as he takes us down the last steep section. When we finally reach the flat, I sigh. Ned halts his horse as the mob reaches the bigger one and waits for me. “How you holding up, Miss Addy? Sergeant taking good care of you?”
I swallow, hoping he doesn’t notice the heat in my cheeks from the pain in my lower back and both hips now.
“Your mare is doing so well. You’re an amazing team, Ned.”
He tilts his head, smiling. Apparently not missing the fact that I deflected his question at all. “We have been together a long time. When you spend this much time with someone, you can practically read each other’s minds.”
I smile back. I know that relationship between horse and rider, the intimate connection that time affords you both, well. I had it with Jewls. Hudson dismounts and hands Rocket over to Mack. He spins back and walks my way. I shift and my hips are locked up. Stiff beyond movement without pain.
Shit.
“Ready for a hot meal and a turn in the camp tub, Addy?” he says, beaming up at me. He takes his hat off and runs a hand through his hair. If I wasn’t in pain, that alone would have me off this horse in a heartbeat. But I can’t even lift my leg over. My joints are frozen. When I don’t move from the saddle, he searches my face, his slackening with concern. “Addy?”
“Addy! I need you over by the main tent; Reed’s horse needs seein’ to,” Harry barks.
We both flinch and snap our gazes to where he is striding toward us, all business.
“I—” I clench my teeth and try my right leg. Blinding pain shoots up my hip and through my side. “Fuck.” Tears burn behind my eyes.
“Now, please.” But his tone is no less demanding.
Hudson takes a step forward, as if putting himself between Harry and me.
“What’s going on?” Harry snaps.
“She will be there in a moment,” Hudson says, but his voice lacks conviction. Will I be able to walk in a moment? Dismount? Oh god. This is beyond mortifying, painful, and plain fucking stupid.
“You have three minutes.” Harry turns back and walks to where Louisa waits, arms folded over her chest, watching her husband. He stalks into the tent. Clearly, Harry is stressed out from the roundup. He has never spoken to me like that. His boys, sure, but never me. I don’t have time to mull over it as Hudson turns back and comes to a halt at Sergeant’s shoulder. “You can’t get down, can you?”
I shake my head, and a tear streaks down my cheek.
“Jesus, Addy. How long have you been in pain?”
“Since yesterday morning. But it wasn’t that bad. Not like it is now.”
“Can I help you down? Would that work?”
I drop the reins and lean forward. Hudson grips my waist, lifting me from the saddle. I can’t stop the cry that leaves my lips. His face contorts, worry turning to fear and desperation. He takes my hands. “Dammit, Addy.”
I huff a strangled laugh and wipe my face with the back of my hands. “It’s not your fault.”
Reed and Mack walk from the tent to where I sit astride Sergeant. “Adds, what’s going on?” Reed’s face crinkles when his gaze meets Hudson’s. “Oh shit.”
“If you can’t come down, Sergeant will have to do it for you, okay?” Hudson says softly.
Mack and Reed exchange a wide-eyed glance.
“Okay?” I whisper.
“You trust him, right?”
I nod. “Yes, of course.”
“Good, hold onto the pommel. He’s gonna sway a little but then you will be down, and I will lift you off, okay?”
“Alright.” But my chin wobbles.
Mack appears at my side by Sergeant’s other shoulder and holds up a hand. “Hold my hand, Addy, Hudson will need to hold the horse.”
I take his hand, and he offers a small, warm smile. I feel tears burn again. Harry comes over, standing by Reed. The youngest of the brothers throws a warning glare the old man’s way. If I wasn’t in pain, I would have a chuckle at that. Hudson moves to Sergeant’s head and takes the reins at the side of the bit. He drops to one knee and guides the horse’s head down.
“Down, buddy,” he says.
The gelding moves forward a little and he rocks as he drops, folding one front leg until his knee hits the grass, then the other. I whimper as the movement tenses the muscles in my core. Mack rests a hand on my leg. My grip around his hand tightens.
“Easy, boy.” Hudson holds his head as the gelding lowers his haunches, coming to rest on the ground.
When the rocking stops, Mack drops his gaze to me. “You alright, Adds?”
I nod.
Hudson stands and moves to where I still sit, immobile. “I’m gonna lift you off, okay?
You tell me if you want to be carried or to be let down, once you’re off.”
“Uh-huh.” I scramble for a deep breath. Trying to mentally prepare myself for what comes next. Hudson hugs me and leans his head against mine. “I’ve got you, sweet girl.”
“I know,” I breathe out on ragged breaths.
He wraps his arms around me, and he whispers, “Three, two, one...”
The moment my butt leaves the saddle I grind out a cry through gritted teeth as fire streaks through my stiffened joints. “Keep going,” I choke out.
He pulls me up from the saddle, and my legs drag over the saddle and swing into his. I hold onto him for dear life. His throat works as he steps back from Sergeant. Mack clicks his tongue and Sergeant pushes back up and onto his feet, nickering and shaking his head, mane tossing about his neck.
“Down or carried, Addy?” Hudson asks.
“Down, I think.”
He lowers me to the ground. Louisa walks over, wrapping an arm around Reed’s shoulders, her face pulled with concern. When my feet hit the ground, my hips clunk, aching something fierce. I take a step and whimper.
“Nope.” Hudson’s arms have my feet off the ground and me huddled against him a heartbeat later. I rest my head on his coat, breathing through every lungful, desperate not to cry in front of Harry.
“There are animals that need tending to, vet care required.” Harry steps forward despite the warning written all over Louisa’s face.
Hudson grinds to a halt and turns back to face his father. “Fucking drop it, Harry.”
“The whole point of her riding along was to tend to the needs of the horses and cattle. You have ten minutes to sort yourself out, Addy.”
Hudson growls, then... “I’m sorry about this, sweet girl.”
I glance between Harry and Hudson. Hudson lowers me to the ground and strides to where Harry stands. “Screw your fucking animals. Everything is about the bottom line with you!”
“Someone has to make sure this family is taken care of.”
“Really? ’Cause from where I’m standin’, you’re more worried about your cattle and workhorses than an actual person right now,” Hudson growls.
“You decide, then. Make a decision, Hudson. Because right now, you’re not taking the reins on anything, just following orders, as always.”
Always.
That word is always followed by never with Huddy and me.
“You know what? Here is a decision for you, Harry. Addy comes before your precious fucking herd.”
Louisa fights to hold back a smile. Reed and Mack fist pump like absolute kids.
Harry’s eyes narrow before he turns on his heel and walks away. Hudson stands, watching him leave, hands balled to fists, shoulders shaking.
God, Huddy.
Louisa moves to where I stand. “Hon, I have a hot bath that will fix those sore muscles and stiff joints of yours right up. Can you walk?”
Desperate to see Hudson’s face, I nod, waiting for him to turn around. And when he finally turns back and closes the space between us, he is shaking. Hands cupping his face, I plant a kiss over his lips. “I’m so damn proud of you, Hudson Andrew Rawlins.”
He groans and drops his forehead to mine, closing his eyes. “Then why do I feel like a complete ass?”
I chuckle and cup his jaw. His eyes find mine. “Nobody said decisions were easy, Huddy.”
He forces a small smile and traces a finger over my cheek. “Bath time, smelly.”
“Hey!” I slap his shoulder, and he picks me up and walks into the tent. Over his shoulders, I glance at Louisa. She winks at me before turning back to her husband who now stands, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
What is going through your mind, Harry Rawlins?
I guess, in time, we will know.