Chapter 5 #2
Moving quickly, I made my way across the property while my boots crunched against the frost-hardened dirt. The wind nipped at whatever exposed skin it could, making my eyes water. Thankfully, the stables were just up ahead and blissfully heated, keeping everything inside nice and toasty warm.
I was stubborn this morning when leaving the bunkhouse after refusing to grab my extra jacket to layer over top of the rest of my clothes, despite Laken giving me that knowing look of his that I was coming to understand was the telltale sign of his bemusement over my soon-to-be misfortune.
A few of the horses poked their heads over their stall doors at the sound of my arrival, ears flicking forward while they eyed me curiously. The latch clicked back into place when I rolled the door closed again, cutting off the chill wafting in from outside.
The soft hum of the overhead fans filled the quiet space, their steady rotations helping to circulate the warm air and keep the barn from feeling too stuffy. Scents of hay, leather, and the faintest traces of grain lingered in the air, familiar and grounding.
I absolutely loved being here.
Out of everything on this ranch, this place was by far my favorite.
Pelly’s stall was fourth from the back. She had her face buried deep in her rack by the time I reached her, pieces of hay clinging to the front of her mane while she chewed slowly.
I’d learned early on how food-motivated she was, used it countless times while working with her to get her to trust me long enough to start building some kind of relationship with her.
The dull, sunken look she’d carried when she first arrived was gone now, as were the prominent ribs and hollowed-out sides, which were now filled in with thick, ropey layers of lean muscle. She was strong—not just her body, but in her blooming personality, too.
“Hey girl,” I said, pulling the latch up from her stall door, stepping inside of it.
Her tail swatted the air in response, head perking up when she spotted me.
I brought my hands up instinctively, running them along her face the moment she presented it to me, still chewing lazily. I traced the velvety softness of her muzzle with my fingers, brushing over the fine golden hairs that always seemed to catch the light just right.
“Miss me?” I murmured, my voice quiet.
She let out a warm breath, a soft huff that tickled against my skin, before pressing her nose firmly into my chest. It was a simple gesture, one we’d fallen into over time, but it never failed to stir something deep in my chest.
“I know,” I sighed, moving my hand to smooth over her cheek. “Sucks we can’t go outside today.”
Her ears flicked slightly, like she was listening; understanding in that way only horses seemed to.
Realistically, I could throw a blanket over her and take her out for a walk around the pasture. It wasn’t like we were buried in snow or dealing with freezing rain. The sky was clear—just cold, crisp in that miserable way that had most of us hunkering down indoors.
The question was: would Wilder kick my ass for doing it?
Even before the thought finished, I knew the answer.
Hell, I could already feel the exasperation that would settle in his eyes if he caught me, the kind of look that was torn between lecturing me and letting me go on my merry way. It would be coupled with that familiar sharp pull to his mouth while he fought the frown threatening to settle there.
He wouldn’t yell. Wilder wasn’t the type by a long shot. But that wouldn’t stop him from fixing me with a look—half resigned—and say something in that low, unimpressed southern drawl of his like, Really?
I glanced toward the heavy doors leading out to the pasture, chewing the inside of my cheek as my fingers absentmindedly traced over Pelly’s jaw.
Still... it wouldn’t be that bad, right?
It wouldn’t be a full-blown workout. Just a walk. A simple few minutes up to the back paddock and back, enough to stretch her legs and let her breathe in something other than recycled stable air.
Pelly had been stuck inside all day just like the rest of us. If I was antsy, I could only imagine how restless she was.
And Wilder hadn’t explicitly said I couldn’t take her out after we’d packed everyone away for the day...
Before I could step away to head out of her stall and grab her lead, something in my pocket vibrated against my leg.
My brows knitted as I fished my phone out, my other hand still absently running along Pelly’s muzzle.
She gave a slow blink, unconcerned, as I thumbed the screen to check the caller ID.
Greyson.
My brow arched higher.
That was unexpected.
Noon meant he should still be knee-deep in AIT, stuck in classes or drills, not calling to chat. His breaks didn’t usually come until well after the sun set, much like mine. He and I had that in common these days, schedules filled to the brim with work and built with no time for leisure.
Which meant something was wrong...
A flicker of concern sparked in my chest as I swiped across the screen quickly and pressed the phone to my ear. “Tell me no one’s dying.”
There was a brief pause before his voice came through. “Uh—what?”
“It’s noon, Grey.”
“Okay? Congratulations, you know time zones.”
The tension in my shoulders eased just a fraction at the sarcasm in his voice.
If he had enough energy to throw quips right back with no subtle change to his tone or sharp intake of breath that told me he was in the middle of trying not to break down about something, then this wasn’t as serious of a call as I thought.
Relief flooded through me.
“So, what then?” I asked, shifting my weight back when Pelly moved to swing around to her rack again to pull out more hay. I pressed my back into the wall next to the stall door. “You just calling to bug me?”
There was a grin in his voice when he shot back, “Aw, I missed you, too, Ash! Thanks for finally picking up the phone for once. It’s nice to hear you weren’t eaten by alligators.”
“That’s Florida, you idiot. I’m in Texas.”
“Whatever. Same thing.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, smothering my own grin. Honestly, it really was nice to hear my brother’s voice. Too much time had gone by since we last shot the shit. “You gonna tell me what this is actually about or were you just feeling sentimental all of a sudden because you missed me?”
“Funny.” There was a beat of silence. Then, with far too much enthusiasm, he said, “Don’t worry, I definitely have a reason for calling.”
Undeniably up to something, no doubt.
But what did I expect from my brother who was the grandmaster of pranks. “Let me guess, you were struck by a sudden stroke of genius.”
“You know me so well.”
That I did. Probably better than I knew myself.
But wasn’t that how it always worked with twins?
We had the uncanny nature of reading each other like open books.
Even through the phone and even after months spent apart.
It didn’t matter that we were living in completely different states with lives that we were both strangers to.
Greyson buried in the grind of A-school and me here at the ranch, knee-deep in my own version of structured chaos.
Our connection had never once faded.
Which was exactly why I knew he was up to something ridiculous.
I exhaled slowly, bracing myself. “All right, let’s hear it. What dumbass plan have you cooked up this time?”
He laughed. “Why do you always assume the worst?”
“Because you’re calling me in the middle of the day while I know damn well you don’t have a break right now. Which means either something’s gone horribly wrong, or you’re scheming. And since you’re not calling me from a hospital bed—”
“Yet,” he interjected playfully.
I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Grey.”
His laughter rang through the speaker again. “Relax, Ash. I’m fine. No missing limbs, no broken bones. No official reprimands—”
“That you know of.”
He ignored me. “But! I did come bearing news of a wonderful idea I had involving Gage.”
Oh, boy. Here we go.
I lifted my hand the second Pelly swung her head back around to watch me, absently stroking her mane as she nosed at my shoulder again, completely unbothered by my growing dread. “Do I even want to know?”
“That depends,” he replied. “Do you want to hear about my brilliant plan that’s going to make Gage pass out from joy or do you want to keep being an asshole?”
I snorted. “So is this the part where I ask what the catch is and you pretend there isn’t one?”
“Oh, there’s a catch. But don’t worry—it’s totally manageable.” He sounded way too pleased with himself.
That statement alone had alarm bells going off in my head. “Define manageable.”
“You know what I heard come out of your mouth? I heard: trust in your twin brother’s superior intellect.”
I groaned. “Greyson—”
He cut me off. “Too late, I’m already explaining. So you know how you’re always talking about how you never get to take a break and you’re always stuck doing chores until after dinnertime? And have no time for family?”
“I never said that.” Not to mention it was hardly true.
Sure, some days we were all stuck raking the stalls well past the sun setting, or taking down top stock to ease the next morning’s burdens but that was never a usual deal. Wilder worked us well and good but not to the bone.
“Well, that’s what I hear when you complain,” he corrected. “Which is why I’ve taken the liberty of fixing that little problem for you.”
Huh?
“Fixing how, exactly?” I asked.
Greyson didn’t answer right away. Instead, there was a long pause—too long—before he finally said, far too casually, “So, you might be getting something in your email soon.”
I blinked, pulling my phone away from my ear. “...What?”
His soft, “Surprise!” was only faintly heard as I unlocked my phone and went into my email.
Sure enough, sent exactly one minute ago, was an email from a commercial airline with the subject line bold and impossible to miss: ‘ROUNDTRIP: BATON ROUGE’.
My mouth dropped open.
No way.