Six #3
I scurry after him. “I thought you said cowboy was off the table in terms of a nickname.”
“I did say that,” he mutters as I stare at his back.
The barn stands tall, beige siding accented by white trim across the door Wes drags open.
“The cowboy hat is really saying otherwise,” I tease, and he grunts.
When he glances back at me, I don’t miss the slight tilt to his mouth—the one that says he’s amused and trying to suppress it. I’d rather have him amused at one of my jokes than the sight of me falling into mud out in the field.
Through the iron bars, I spot a lean bay mare. She whinnies to greet us, tossing her head once. When she paws at the ground, my stomach flips.
So far, I haven’t done much save for leading a few horses out. Wesley hasn’t seen my horsemanship, so there’s a lot riding on this moment.
“She’s usually pretty good,” he informs. “Though she’d like to make you believe otherwise. Just wants out, I guess.”
He unlatches the stall door and grabs a halter from the hook.
Once set up, I stand in the stall holding the mare while he pulls a long glove on at the back of the horse. She nuzzles my arm gently, testing on the second go and shoving a bit harder. I keep my balance, putting pressure on the lead to get her to stop. Luckily, she does.
“This is all very clinical,” I say, finally breaking the silence when Wesley places a bucket and rag off to the side.
He sighs, opening the white box on the ground and pulling out a syringe. “It’d be weird if it weren’t.”
Good point.
Rocking on my heels, I look up at the rafters as a barn swallow swoops in one end of the barn and out the other. I’m failing at making conversation, and my mind suddenly goes empty as my boss goes elbow deep.
I wince, fighting to fill the uncomfortable silence.
“I saw your sister’s boobs this morning.”
Wesley pauses, leaning around the horse's flank to look at me where I stand by her head. “What did you just say to me?” he questions, and my cheeks go pink.
“I just—” Struggle to find words, apparently.
“I don’t know,” I start, feeling those words start to build up in my chest. Nerves skitter down my spine as I commence the longest rambling non-explanation to ever occur.
“I felt really weird. I followed your directions and came in and fed Mud. The thought was that you’d be down at the barn.
” Wesley returns to his task, pulling his elbow out of the Mare, and grabbing a bucket of water used to clean her up. He makes a noncommittal sound.
I don’t take the hint and continue anyway.
“I was just standing there, I guess. Then she comes in full boobs out. I thought maybe she was your girlfriend at first.” I chuckle.
“And then you said sister, and my assumptions got real weird for a second—like taboo romance novel weird. Thank God you guys aren’t that weird.
” I pause. “Unless you are. I don’t know if you are, really.
The point is, Rosemary—Roe—came into the kitchen tits out, and I just feel like you needed to know that happened. ”
“I’ll talk to her,” he grumbles. “She’s a bit of a… free spirit.”
He tosses the discarded glove in a pile of trash on the ground. “This girl’s all done,” he says. “Bring her round, and we can let her out. The walking will be good.”
I follow his directions, suddenly silent as we walk to the gate. The mare gets a bit strong, testing my gumption by trying to nudge me and walk faster. I use pressure on the lead to slow her down, doing my best to make her mind me.
Once we are in the field and the halter comes off, though, it’s hopeless.
I step back as she trots out into the field, knickering happily. When I get back to the gate, I can feel Wesley’s eyes on me.
“Planning on sticking around?” he asks, breaking the silence as I latch the gate closed.
“What?” I question, glancing up.
One of those half smiles tugs at his mouth, and I realize I really like seeing those.
It’s like happiness is buried there somewhere—just waiting to be dug up and let out.
“Thought my sister’s boobs might have scared you off, is all,” he says.
“I know I’d be terrified. Hoping you won’t go and quit the job on me. ”
I laugh—a robust sound as bright as the spring skies and vibrant grass. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Your sister’s boobs did not scare me off.”
“Good,” he smiles fully, letting a comfortable pause ripple between us like the fields beyond. “The key to the house is in an envelope in the office. We can stop and get it before you leave.”
Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I ignore the text messages from my group chat with Lennon and Ellis, and briefly glance at Gus’s text inviting me to eat takeout and watch our favorite show tonight.
“Wow,” I say, reading the time. “That went by quickly! I’d love to stop and get the key. My lease is over next month, but I would sure love to not drive forty minutes to work.”
“Alright,” he says, nodding toward the golf cart. “C’mon.”
We drive the cart back up to the lesson barn, where Wesley hands me a key to my new home, and something about it feels right.
All of it feels right.