Chapter 1 #2
I nodded, filing that information away. There was clearly more to Becken’s story, but I’d already pushed enough boundaries for one day. “What do I owe you?”
“It’s on the house.”
“Oh, no, I should pay.”
Holly shook her head. “Just make Becken smile, and you’ll pay more than the cost of a few pastries and tea.”
“Thank you.” My cheeks ached from smiling. “Both of you. This is really kind.”
“That’s what neighbors do,” Max said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
With a nod, I left, striding down the boardwalk and past a pottery barn with a sign announcing upcoming classes.
The rodeo arena sat beyond, at the edge of town, a sprawling complex of corrals and outbuildings that looked both rustic and professional. My breath made small puffs in the cold air as I approached the main arena, hoping Becken would be somewhere nearby.
I didn’t have to worry. He was already there, because apparently, the male started work before dawn.
He stood near the center of the arena, examining a section of fencing, his big frame moving smoothly as he tested joints and checked for stability.
Even from a distance, he was imposing, with the kind of presence that commanded attention.
Yesterday I’d been so focused on proving my expertise that I’d barely noticed how attractive he was.
Today, watching him work with obvious skill and care, I definitely noticed.
The way his shoulders moved under his work coat, the careful way he made notes on a clipboard. The man clearly knew what he was doing.
I took a steadying breath and walked closer. “Good morning.”
He looked up, his dark eyes guarded but polite. “Morning.”
“I brought tea.” I held up his cup like a white flag. “And Max recommended maple bars, so I picked up a few for you as well.”
Surprise might have flickered in his expression. “That’s thoughtful.”
“It’s an apology.” I placed the box and container with two teas on a low table holding tools. “I was out of line yesterday. You were trying to explain something important, and I kept interrupting with assumptions based on completely different animals.”
He straightened, studying me with intelligent dark eyes. “You were doing your job.”
“My job is to help you establish a successful program, not to come in and change everything that’s already working.” I wrapped my hands around my tea cup, grateful for the warmth. “I’ve never worked with sorhoxes before. I should’ve started by asking questions instead of making recommendations.”
Becken was quiet for a moment before he reached for his tea. “They’re nothing like horses.”
“So I gathered.” I couldn’t help smiling a little. “Want to tell me what they are?”
He almost smiled back. Almost. “Bigger. Stronger bone density, different muscle structure. They respond to pressure differently, and their flight responses aren’t the same.”
“Which means standard rodeo protocols won’t work.”
“Right.” He took a sip of tea, and I caught the first hint of approval in his voice. “They’re also more intelligent than horses. They form strong bonds with their handlers.”
“That could actually be an advantage for exhibition events.” My mind was already running through possibilities. “If they’re more trainable, we could potentially develop some unique activities that would really set this program apart.”
Becken nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”
We stood there for a moment, sipping our drinks in the crisp morning air. It felt like progress even if it was small and much too tentative.
I nudged my head toward the area in general. “Want to show me what I’m working with?”
The sorhox corrals were behind the main arena, and as we approached, I heard them before I saw them, a low rumbling that seemed to vibrate through the ground. Then I got my first real look at one, and my breath caught.
“Holy shit.”
“Language,” Becken said, but there was definite amusement in his voice now.
The creature in the nearest corral was unlike anything I’d ever imagined.
The size of a minivan, the sorhox had medium green hide and darker green eyes that held an unsettling intelligence.
What really caught my attention were the curved horns spiking out from behind its ears, curling broadly around to the front and ending in lethal-looking points.
Below those impressive horns, I caught a glimpse of fangs when it snorted, and its hooves were cloven with three wicked claws.
“That’s Thrakul,” Becken said. “He’s one of our calmer beasts.”
“Calmer,” I repeated faintly. Thrakul’s long tail, tipped with a spike, swished as he continued to watch us. “Right. Okay. They’re nothing like horses.”
“Definitely not.”
I pulled my tablet from my shoulder bag but stopped before turning it on. “May I take some notes and ask some questions that might sound stupid?”
“Go ahead.”
For the next hour, Becken walked me through the basics of sorhox care and handling.
How they communicated with each other and the people who worked with them.
Their social structure. Their particular quirks and needs.
I took notes frantically, asking questions about everything from their diet to their response to different weather conditions.
“They’re really beautiful.” I watched a group of younger sorhoxes play in the far corral. Their movements were graceful despite their size, and there was something almost dance-like about the way they interacted.
“They are.” Pride shone in Becken’s voice.
“How long have you been working with them?”
“All my life, back where I come from. I came to the surface about six months ago to help establish this program.”
There was something about his carefully neutral tone that suggested there was more to his story, but I wouldn’t ask. I’d already pushed enough boundaries for one morning with my questions.
A sharp wind picked up, carrying the scent of snow and making me pull my coat tighter. One of the corral gates rattled against its latch, the metal clanging in a way that made Thrakul toss his head.
“That latch is loose.” I pointed to the gate. “Want me to grab some tools and fix it?”
Becken looked surprised. “You don’t mind getting your hands dirty?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been fixing broken things for years.” I was already heading toward the table where I’d left the bakery box.
Twenty minutes later, we had the gate secured, and I’d spotted two other potential issues, including a loose bolt on the water trough that could cause flooding, and a fence post that was starting to lean in a way that would compromise the whole section within a month.
Years of managing facilities had taught me to see problems before they became disasters.
My hands were definitely dirty by the time I’d finished, some of my carefully styled hair had escaped its arrangement, and I’d managed to get grease on my coat. But I felt more like myself than I had since arriving.
“You’re handy.” From Becken, it sounded like a compliment.
“Ten years of managing rodeo facilities where the emergency repair budget was a joke. You learn to fix everything yourself when you’re trying to keep a program running on next to nothing.
” I wiped grease off my hands on a rag. “I’ve rebuilt entire arena drainage systems, rigged temporary lighting for night events, even welded broken chutes back together between competitions.
When you’re the kid nobody really planned for, you learn to make yourself useful.
” The latter slipped out, revealing more than I’d intended.
He gave me a sharp look, but before he could respond, my phone buzzed with a text. I glanced at it and winced.
“Problem?”
“Just my next appointment.” I checked the time and sighed. “I’m supposed to meet with a town council at ten to go over budget projections. For a future job.” One I’d head to when I left Lonesome Creek. Funny how I liked it here so much already that I didn’t want to leave.
“Better you than me,” he said.
I laughed. “Not a fan of budget meetings?”
“Not a fan of explaining what things cost to people who’ve never done the work.”
“Tell me about it. I’ve had clients say, ‘Can’t you scale back the safety requirements? Insurance is so expensive.’” I mimicked a dismissive tone, then caught myself. “Sorry, that probably sounds—”
“Accurate.” There was definitely a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth now. He had tusks. I liked them. Liked everything about this male, actually, though I’d never admit it out loud.
I gathered my tablet and tea cup, reluctant to leave this easy companionship we’d found. “When would you like me to come to work tomorrow? I’d like to observe some actual training sessions if that’s okay.”
“Seven will be fine.”
“And Becken?” I paused at the gate. “Thank you for being patient with me. I know I came on way too strong yesterday.”
He nodded, already turning back to his work. “Tomorrow.”
I walked back toward the hotel with something that might be hope bubbling in my chest. Maybe I hadn’t completely destroyed this opportunity after all. I could prove myself here and build something important.
The Christmas decorations strewn around this quaint little tourist town looked even more magical in the morning sunlight, and for the first time since I’d arrived, I let myself imagine what it might be like to actually belong in a place like this, to be part of a community instead of just passing through.
To have a place where someone expected me to show up tomorrow.
The thought scared me almost as much as it thrilled me, but I held onto it anyway.