11. brooks
eleven
brooks
. . .
Think I’m In Love With You - Chris Stapleton
For the next week, everything on the ranch is just the way it always is.
I get up before dawn. I muck out stables.
I rotate cattle. I fix fence posts. I shower, I eat, I sleep.
I make time to see my sister and her family.
I make time for my parents. Ashton and I watch another two movies: one at her place, and one with Everett and Ruth at theirs.
I make time to shoot the shit with Ev and Jody, even if it’s ten minutes texting while I eat a sandwich.
And I spend several hours each day working on breaking Jagger, with Ashton at my side.
Since learning that she’s been working with him alone, I’ve taken it upon myself to make sure she’s always accompanied.
Sometimes it’s one of the other ranch hands with her, but most of the time, it’s me.
And it’s not because I don’t trust them.
It’s more that Jagger is an unknown; he’s wild as hell, and he’s the one I don’t trust.
It’s causing tension between me and Ashton. She thinks I’m babying her, like I don’t trust her, but I’m just trying to protect her. And I don’t know how to make her see that.
Our history slaps me in the face every time I look at her.
Damn near two and a half decades of constant friendship, and my friendship with her brother that’s almost three decades strong.
We grew up knowing everything about each other, seeing each other every which way under the sun.
Running around the ranch in bathing suits, and probably a whole lot less, as little kids.
Getting up to all kinds of teenage mischief as we got older.
For as long as I can remember, Ashton Tanner has been as much my best friend as her brother is, but somehow, now that she’s home from New York and looking like that—like the grown woman I’d never stopped to notice her becoming—I can’t help but want her. And want to protect her.
“Would you stop?” Ashton whirls around to face me, the brim of her ball cap shadowing the crease in her brow. She’s mad, and it’s terrifying, but it’s also sexy as all hell. I must have a death wish.
“Stop what?” Yup. Definitely don’t value my life at all.
“You know damn well what,” she hisses. Jagger grunts, jerking his body away from me as I tighten my pull on his reins.
Instinctively, Ashton reaches out a hand to the side of his neck.
He accepts her tentative touch and stops pulling away from me, but he doesn’t come closer.
“You been on me like a fly on shit for the last week. I can’t even take a piss without you knowing about it. ”
“So? We work together, Ash. Of course we’re spending actual time together.”
“You know goddamn well what I mean, Brooks Hart. You’re supervisin’ me like I’m Emmy’s age, not a grown ass woman.”
“Just helpin’ you with the horses,” I say smoothly, quietly. I don’t want to agitate Jagger any more. I can see from the expression on Ashton’s face she’s trying to restrain herself for the same reason.
“No, you ain’t,” she spits venomously. “I don’t need you babyin’ me, Brooks, I need you pullin’ your weight or gettin’ out of my damn face so I can do my job.”
By the time she’s finished, her voice is raised. Gordy and Solly, two of the ranch hands, pause at the edge of the paddock, on the other side of the gate.
“Y’all okay in there?” Gordy dismounts his horse and pushes the gate open slightly, just enough to slip through. “Y’all gonna terrify the cattle if you keep on.”
He’s friendly about it, but I know what he’s really saying.
I’ve worked with Gordy for a long time now.
I know that pointed look he’s giving me.
He’s telling me to lay off of Ashton, that whatever she’s complaining about, I need to stop.
Ashton is beloved on this ranch, and not a single person—me included—will stand for anyone pissing her off.
So why can’t I stop doing it?
Ashton waves at Gordy. “We’re good, Kitch,” she calls. Most people on the ranch just have one name that everybody uses, but Gordy is one of the few who has two: he goes either by Gordy, or Kitch, for his last name, Kitchener. “Just a disagreement over how to break Jagger. I got it handled.”
“I know you do, Little Tanner.” Gordy grins at Ashton, his words bright and encouraging, then presses his lips together in a tight smile when he turns to me and offers a nod in lieu of goodbye. He waves as he climbs back on his horse, and he and Solly trot away.
“You satisfied now?” Ashton growls. She whirls around to face me, her sudden movement startling Jagger, who neighs and rears back a little in response. I reach out a hand to calm him. “The whole damn ranch is gonna hear about this. Just let me be. I can handle myself.”
“I ain’t gonna stand by and let you get hurt, Ashton,” I say. I raise my own voice without realizing it. Just thinking about the idea that breaking Jagger could lead to Ashton getting hurt has my chest tightening in an uncomfortable way, and I feel lightheaded and anxious.
“You ain’t gonna!” Ashton raises her voice to match mine. “‘Cause I know what I’m doing! And I don’t need you babying me!”
I should walk away before I say something I’ll regret.
Something I don’t mean, something that could destroy decades of friendship.
But I can’t leave her alone with a horse who could hurt her and not even think twice about it.
So I do what any other idiot would do: I press my lips together, tug lightly on Jagger’s reins, and work in stony silence for the rest of the afternoon.
It shouldn’t need two of us to return Jagger to his stall when we unanimously agree that we’re done for the day, but I’ve doubled down on my refusal to leave Ashton alone with him.
Especially after hearing how he bucked her last week, and seeing not only the amount of mud she had coating her skin, but the bruises that bloomed beneath it, too.
Even though we no longer use the violent breaking techniques of the past, horses like Jagger are inherently fearful of humans, and they don’t understand what we’re trying to do.
It can take a long time for them to feel safe and comfortable with us, especially when we let them dictate the pace.
And it can be dangerous for us, because their fear and distrust can manifest in behaviors that can injure a rider. Like rearing and bucking.
I can tell it’s taking everything in Ashton to stay calm and not slam the door to Jagger’s stall when she settles him in with a fresh hay ball and a sugar lump from the basket by the door.
She whispers something to him as she rubs a line along the side of his neck and he nickers quietly, almost like they’ve come to an understanding.
Then, she pushes past me, deliberately knocking into me with her shoulder, and storms off in the direction of her cabin.
With a sigh, I rub a hand over my face. I’ve definitely screwed this up.
And the sympathetic way Mom looks at me and clicks her tongue as I let myself into the Tanners’ kitchen confirms it.
They’ve definitely heard about this. Mom and Mama Tanner are sat on opposite sides of the long dining table, papers and laptops spread out between them.
Mom is wearing her wire-rimmed glasses. There are some crayons at one end of the table, and a small stack of paper scraps that have been scribbled on, but no sign of Emmy.
“She’s in the living room, honey,” Mom says, answering the question I haven’t yet voiced. Her eyes follow mine to the crayons and then around the rest of the room. “Harriet’s at the doctor’s office.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. It’s a routine check-up, but EJ’s been a handful today, so I offered to keep her. She’s finally napping. You have a good day?”
“Good enough,” I answer carefully. “Made some progress.” Not quite as much as yesterday’s minor breakthrough, but Jagger is coming along. Slower than I’d like, and slower than I’ve seen in a while, but I’m not losing faith yet. Mama Tanner glances up at me.
“You think he’ll be ready soon?”
I press my lips together, holding a breath for a brief moment before exhaling loudly. “You’ll have to speak to Ash on that one,” I concede. “She’s spent more time with him.”
“She seems confident,” Mama Tanner says. “If anyone can break him, the two of you can.”
I smile at that, pulling open one of the fridge doors and leaning into the cold air that blasts my face. I wrap a hand around a cold bottle of water.
“Y’all want anything?”
“Oh, water, please,” Mom says. I toss one to her, and grab a second which I slide across the table to Mama Tanner as I head toward the door.
“See you ladies tomorrow night?” I ask. Wednesdays on the ranch are free-for-all days.
Most of the week, Harriet and Mama Tanner provide breakfast and lunch for whoever is working, on an open-kitchen basis.
Come in when you’re ready. But on Wednesdays, the door is open for dinner in the evening, too.
Bring your family. There’s always enough for a small army, with plenty of leftovers to box up and take home.
“Of course, honey,” Mama Tanner says. She looks up at me properly this time, a grateful smile on her face as she twists the cap off the water bottle. “Get some rest. See you tomorrow.”
Mom blows me a kiss as I leave, and I pretend to catch it and tuck it in my pocket. She laughs, and then Mama Tanner laughs, and I let that laughter float along with me as I walk the long way back to my cabin.
The following day, Everett pulls me onto cattle rotation duty, and we ride alongside several herds of cows and bulls as we move them around from one pasture to the next.
It’s a long day, with work beginning shortly before sunrise, and we ride all through lunch and into the afternoon.
By the time I finally settle Periwinkle back into her stall, my stomach is growling.
“Y’all brawlin’ with my sister in the paddock, huh?
” Ev asks as he closes the door on Grover’s stall and pokes his head in to see Della, his personal horse.
He clicks his tongue and she ambles over, nosing at his pocket for a treat.
Even though we’ve worked side by side since sunrise, and it’s now mid-afternoon, this is the first moment we’ve been able to talk all day.
“Naw,” I say with a light chuckle. “Just a disagreement over how to work with Jagger is all.” Don’t think I got the balls to tell my best friend I’m fighting with his little sister because I’m crazy about her and I’m terrified she’s gonna get hurt by a wild horse.
“Ain’t how Gordy told it,” Everett says evenly. If I didn’t know him quite so well, I’d think maybe he was mad at me. But this isn’t Everett mad. He’s just tryin’ to figure out whether he should be mad or not. “Y’all okay?”
“We’re fine,” I lie smoothly. I haven’t seen or spoken to Ashton since she stormed off last night, and I won’t pretend I ain’t a little anxious about seeing her tonight. Ranch Wednesday is one of her favorite nights of the week too, and when she’s here, she always shows up. “You know Ash.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Everett closes Della’s stall door and turns to me, looking up at me.
At five-foot-ten, he’s a whole seven inches shorter than me.
Regardless of my height advantage, the scowl on his face right now is intimidating as hell.
Maybe he chose to be mad after all. I duck around him, reaching for a sugar cube from the hanging box on the wall and holding it over the door to Periwinkle, who accepts it gratefully. Then, I look back at my best friend.
“She’s headstrong. Opinionated. We disagreed, and she don’t back down. She’s probably right anyway,” I say. Everett stares at me for another quiet moment, then nods once.
“She’s usually right,” he agrees. “And she don’t let you forget it, neither.”
I throw my head back and laugh at that. He ain’t wrong.
“You comin’ for Ranch Wednesday?” I ask. Everett heads straight for his truck as we fall into step outside the stables. He shakes his head.
“Naw,” he answers. “Ruth ain’t feelin’ too great. Think she’s homesick, missin’ her family, you know? We’re gonna stay home tonight.”
I nod, clapping him on the shoulder before he ducks into his truck. “Give her my love,” I call as he rolls the window down and starts the engine. I watch as he rolls away, wheels crunching on gravel, then spin on my heel and jog up the front porch steps to the main house.