Chapter 3 #2
Benji could see her fighting her need to touch the horse again.
The tension, the restraint, radiated from her, in the taut line of her jaw and the flinty chill that emptied her eyes of emotion.
As much as he wanted to push her, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He forced a smile instead. ‘We both know you’d rather bathe in mud than eat crow, so I appreciate the apology.
’ He cleared his throat. ‘I hate that me being here makes things harder for you, Si. And I’m trying to keep my distance.
But it’s hard, you know … This is the only home I’ve ever really had. And Mav and you—’
‘I know.’ She shook her head, blinked rapidly. ‘I know. That’s why I said what I did. And that’s why I’m apologizing for it.’
‘Okay.’ Gripping Diablo’s halter by the tie ring beneath the horse’s throat, he gently nudged the horse back from the fence, giving Sierra space. But he had to add, ‘You know if you want to start slow, we could take Diablo and Ty out, maybe overnight at Wrangler’s Clearing. Just talk—’
Her eyes snapped to his. ‘No.’
‘Okay.’ He started backtracking. ‘If you don’t want to—’
‘Want?’ Sierra stared at him from eyes heavy with dread and shock. ‘Want has nothing to do with it,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t.’
Benji frowned. ‘Sierra, you’re the best horsewoman I know. You can—’
‘I have to go.’
Before he could delay her further, before he could let himself out of the pen and chase after her, she was moving across the dirt road, never breaking stride despite her pretty, break-neck heels.
He watched as she drove off in a cloud of dust without looking back.
‘Well’ – he turned back to Diablo – ‘that went well.’
The horse sighed, clearly pissed that he hadn’t gotten his sugar cube.
Benji stroked the horse’s thick neck. But all he could do was agree with the animal’s frustration. ‘I know, buddy. I know.’
He meandered back to the barn, Diablo following without a lead rope. Benji took his time putting the horse back in his stall, gave him an extra handful of sunflower seeds in lieu of the sugar cube he’d been deprived of.
At ten in the morning, most of the barn staff’s work was done for the day. Horses that would be taken out on trail rides with guests had been brought in from pasture, groomed, and fed. The stalls had been mucked, the water troughs cleaned.
Soon, the resort day would begin. Guests would filter down for their scheduled lessons or rides. Benji would assign horses and teach those lessons, just as he would chat and smile and take pictures for any folks who asked.
It might not have been his dream job of breeding and training cow horses for the rodeo circuit, but it included enough of the essential components – namely, horses – that Benji enjoyed it. Hell, he loved it.
There was routine and stability even though no day was the same.
‘He’s looking good.’
Benji turned to acknowledge Skye, the wrangler who’d replaced him when he’d left Hunt Ranch before Mav’s injury had pulled him back to help. ‘He’s looking perfect,’ Benji countered because the one thing he was proud of was his horse.
Although relatively new to the horse world, Skye’s arrival at Hunt Ranch had been preceded by a call from one of Mav and Benji’s friends from their Junior Rodeo Days.
Jesse James Jones, or ‘Triple J’, as he was called in the world of professional bull riding, may have paved the way for her, but Skye had held her own from day one.
She worked like a dog, she rode like a cowboy, and she only had to be shown how to do something once before she mastered it.
If Benji occasionally wondered why she jumped at shadows and always kept her duffel bag packed and ready to go in the wranglers’ cabin, he didn’t ask her about it.
Some things, he knew, hurt too much to talk about and if Skye had wanted any of them to know about it, she would have told them.
She moved forward to stroke Diablo’s neck, her typically frenetic movements pointedly slowing when she came close to the horse. Her dog, a blue heeler mix named Bandit, sat at her feet, always perfectly behaved. ‘Do you think you could give me some lessons?’
‘Barrels?’
‘Yeah. Smokey’s not quite soft yet, but she wants to go. It’s taken me months just to get across that we don’t need to break into a gallop the moment I’m in the saddle.’
Benji thought about it. Skye and her Grulla Quarter Horse, Smokey, were an athletic pair. Skye was a good horsewoman, if a little green. But barrel racing was deceptively difficult.
The total distance run on a standard cloverleaf pattern was relatively short, but it required a horse and rider to reach speeds of up to thirty-five miles an hour on the straights and then make quick stops or ‘checks’ before turning each barrel.
If the sanded arena conditions were too wet or too dry, if a horse took a barrel without perfect form, or a rider lost their seat, terrible accidents could occur.
Horses could slip and hurt themselves, or tragically, fall onto their riders.
‘You plan on competing?’
‘I’m thinking about it. I would have said no even a few months ago.’ She shrugged. ‘But Smokey’s so athletic. It feels like a crime to deprive her of the chance to show off a bit.’
Benji nodded, considering. ‘I’m not the best at barrels. But Sierra …’ He trailed off as the beginnings of an idea took hold.
‘Sierra?’ Skye asked incredulously. ‘Sierra Hunt? The woman who just left in a business suit and a pair of shoes that cost more than I make in a month?’
‘That girl could whip both our asses while in those heels,’ he affirmed.
‘Nah.’
‘Oh yeah. Last time we did a barrel run for time, she beat me by a full two seconds.’ Two seconds didn’t sound like a lot to anyone who wasn’t a horseman, but it may as well have been two minutes in barrel racing, which was timed to the hundredth second.
Skye’s blue eyes widened. ‘Okay, I’m impressed. But I don’t think I’ve ever even seen Sierra in the barn before.’
‘Yeah, she …’ She what? he thought. ‘She doesn’t ride anymore. But I’ll make a deal with you. Ask Sierra first. If she says no, I’ll give you the lessons.’
Skye eyed him sceptically. ‘Why do I get the feeling that you’re setting me up?’
‘Look.’ Benji turned, giving her his full attention. ‘I’ve been trying to get her back on a horse for over a year now,’ he said, sharing just enough. ‘She won’t hear it from me. But maybe if it was coming from someone else, someone who genuinely needs the help …’
Skye pursed her lips, considering. ‘What’s in it for you? No offence or anything, but Sierra doesn’t need the cash for giving lessons.’
‘None taken.’ Benji knew what people saw when they looked at him.
It didn’t matter that he had hoarded every penny, forgoing vacations and expensive clothes and new cars so that he had had a decent pile of savings.
His jeans were faded, his boots were scuffed, and he preferred it that way because when people looked at his clothes, they knew exactly who he was on the inside too.
‘What’s in it for me?’ he repeated. ‘Well, I’d get to see my girl on a horse again.
’ Sierra wouldn’t have appreciated the sentiment, but that was exactly why he had to keep trying.
Because maybe then the distance wouldn’t burn a hole in his stomach anymore.
If he knew that Sierra had Ty to comfort her once he’d left again …
‘Oh.’ Skye ran one hand through her short, blonde hair. ‘I didn’t realize you two were an item …’
He didn’t explain, didn’t correct her. He said, ‘Honestly, Skye, if you get Sierra to agree to help you, I’ll add another two lessons a week until Mav’s on his feet and I have to leave. Free of charge.’
Skye cocked one hip. Her blue eyes narrowed in determination even as she said, ‘I’m getting the sense that convincing her isn’t going to be easy.’
Benji only smiled.