CHAPTER NINETEEN
B renda jabs her heels into Leita’s sides again. The roan jolts forward, trying to fulfill her rider’s request. A harsh yank on the reins suggests she did the opposite. Frustration bubbles as I watch my horse fight to understand what this woman wants.
“I think she needs a bit in her mouth.” Brenda rattles the hackamore shanks as if useless.
I swallow a scream, reminding myself this is a business. “That’s not necessary. She responds very well.”
“Not to me,” the blonde retorts.
A sour gurgle twists my gut when her mixed signals almost steer Leita into the fence. “She only needs gentle pressure from your legs. Just take it easy. Try being softer with your hands too.”
“We’ll reach an understanding,” Brenda insists.
The tight circle she forces Leita into suggests that point will be met with the mare sour and ruined. The wind whips to stir the upset on my horse’s behalf. She’s trying her best to please and adapt to these unfamiliar cues but she only receives more backlash.
Paisley cringes, done being the silent bystander. “Cass—”
A painful ache cramps my chest. “Not yet.”
“It’s obvious they’re not a good fit.”
“She just got in the saddle,” I argue. “We need to give her more than three minutes.”
“Why bother?”
“This is business,” I state. It’s a reminder I’ve had to repeat to myself too often when it comes to the roan mare.
“But there’s a limit.”
I follow my cousin’s gaze to where Brenda flops in the saddle like a rag doll while sending Leita mixed signals. “She’s supposed to be an experienced rider.”
My cousin snorts. “According to her?”
“Not just anybody looks for a barrel prospect in this price range.”
“If they want to win. She probably has a money tree in her backyard.” Paisley mimics plucking bills from branches.
Which would explain why she didn’t blink at the amount I’m asking for Leita. I even upped it to top dollar, in no rush to sell her. When that had no impact, I tried to hold off setting a date to avoid this disaster. The eager beaver’s patience only lasted a week.
The sentimental value I’ve tried to ignore is mocking me. Not attached, huh? Brenda treating Leita this roughly turns my stomach and proves I’ll have to find a different buyer. But letting her go is going to hurt no matter what.
“She’ll live her best life at Greener Pastures,” my cousin cuts into my thoughts.
“I refuse to let her go to waste,” I mumble absently.
“You should call the whole thing off.” Her chin lifts to my phone.
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Yet I palm the device.
The loud roar of an engine slices into our country quiet. An unmistakable black truck barrels up my driveway as if there’s an emergency. Dust plumes in thick clouds from the speed. Brenda pauses her attempts to ride Leita, bringing the horse to a stop near us. We watch the interruption approach and slam to a halt next to the arena.
Drake flings open his door, waving erratically while stomping our way. “Stop the sale!”
My mouth drops. “What…? How did you know when she was coming?”
I hadn’t told him, especially after his reaction at the baseball field. As if I needed another voice of reason against selling. But the days have passed without mention. Drake seemed to have forgotten, or he didn’t care. A huff escapes me. I’m clearly missing something.
Paisley’s smile is too smug. “I texted him.”
My gaze rips off Drake to glare at my cousin. “When did you get his number?”
“Easy there, death stare. I used your phone.” Her grin tips higher.
“No, I would’ve—” But a glance at my screen confirms her method of deception.
“I can’t let you do this, beauty.” Drake is beside me, cradling my cheek in his hand. “That horse is meant for you.”
A sharp refusal shakes my head. “We’ve been over this. Please don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Fine.” He straightens. “I want to buy her.”
“Gonna have to get in line.” The saddle creaks as Brenda leans forward, most likely offering a juicy shot of her boob job. “Unless you’d like to make a deal.”
The sultry purr in Brenda’s voice solidifies my newfound dislike for her. Whatever delusions she’s under must be potent for her to believe this situation is hers to control. My shoulders tremble with silent laughter.
“There’s nothing to negotiate.” My statement is meant for both of them.
“I beg to differ,” Drake tells me before flicking a dismissive glance at the woman still astride my horse. “Listen, Barbie—”
The blonde giggles while curling a lock of hair around her fingers. “It’s actually Brenda.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he drawls. “This horse is very special to my girlfriend, which makes her important to me. I’m going to need you to step aside and let me have her.”
“What’s in it for me?” Her coy tone makes me want to gag.
Drake doesn’t miss a beat. “You get to find your next barrel racing champion elsewhere.”
“That’s not going to satisfy me,” she deadpans.
“Want to play high stakes? I can spin that roulette wheel.”
The blonde’s expression goes blank. “Don’t you mean hardball?”
“Whatever blows your boots off. I’m willing to pay…” He dangles the pretense of an offer until I’m ready to jump out of my skin. “Ten thousand dollars.”
Silence thick enough to suffocate greets the amount. His smile is triumphant, thinking he’s shocked us. Brenda’s cackle bursts his bubble.
She wags a finger. “You’ll need to do better than that, pretty boy. The asking price is twenty.”
“Grand?” His eyes bulge, swinging to me. “Does that horse poop golden apples or what?”
“She has fantastic breeding and incentives,” I tell him, fully aware he doesn’t have a clue what that means.
But the cocky haggler nods. “In that case, let’s make it thirty.”
Brenda’s eyebrows disappear into her bleached bangs. “You’re not very subtle, huh?”
“Like a noisy fart in the library,” he boasts.
“I can’t even with you,” I mumble.
“Does that mean I win?” He rubs his palms together.
The blonde clucks her tongue while dismounting, the conflicting signals a final farewell to Leita. “Too rich for my blood.”
Drake snatches the mare’s reins when Brenda carelessly discards them. Leita is quick to sniff his pockets, nuzzling the left side. A collective sigh comes from his adoring audience—me very much included—when he whips out several carrot pieces for her.
“Such a good girl,” he croons.
“You packed treats?” Tears spring to my eyes and I fan at the burn. “What are you doing to me, trouble?”
“I could ask you the same question, beauty.” His smirk slides my way. “All I did was bring a snack in case someone got nosy at my britches. You made me buy a horse.”
My hands lift. “Oh, no. I had nothing to do with this.”
Drake chuckles. “You have everything to do with every decision I make. I’m always thinking about you.”
“Damn, that’s a great line,” Brenda breathes. Why she hasn’t left yet is beyond me. “If you need riding lessons—”
“My cowgirl has me covered,” he interrupts her potentially crude suggestion.
But I stiffen at what she’s implying. The urge to claim my man has me lunging forward. A grip on my arm stops me from getting far.
“Remember this is business.” Paisley echoes my earlier thought. “There’s no need for a pissin’ match.”
“But there’s a line, right?” I can repeat phrases too.
“Not in this case. Drake hasn’t taken his eyes off you.”
And he hasn’t. His stare blazes into a smolder that strikes a match to my arousal. I squirm at the heat flooding me. Our chemistry doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Gotta get me one of them.” Brenda grumblesabout a former sugar daddy under her breath. Gravel spits at us as she storms to her car in a huff.
“Bye!” I wiggle my fingers. “Thanks for stopping by. Better luck next time.”
She returns my wave while driving away. It’s only then I realize she didn’t bring a trailer. That’s a universal sign in this industry. Maybe she wasn’t that interested after all. But somebody else swooped in regardless, which reminds me…
“Drake,” I exhale. Exasperation heaves my chest. “Why did you do that?”
“Grand gesture, beauty.”
“Not this again.” But my belly flutters to spite me. “You can’t be serious about buying her.”
“I’d never joke about that.”
“What’re you gonna do with this very expensive horse?”
His baby blues twinkle. “Give her to you as a pre-engagement gift.”
“That’s not…” My brain stumbles. “I’m not even sure how to respond, but… you can’t just say that as a reason.”
“Just did,” he grumbles. “But fine, she’s a regular present then.”
“I don’t accept. She’s yours.”
“How convenient.” His wink is paired with a flash from his dimples. “What’s mine is yours.”
I flail my arms between us. “We aren’t married.”
“Yet,” he amends.
My laughter borders on hysterical. “You’re very presumptuous.”
Drake dips to kiss me. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t meant as…” The fight abandons me, and I sag into him. “Oh, forget it.”
“You’ll keep her?” Hope brightens his tone.
“But she deserves to be more than a pasture ornament,” I mutter.
“What if she’s like Pago? You won’t know unless you try.”
There’s a lurch in my belly. “But they’re nothing alike.”
“Their connection to you,” he murmurs.
“You’re reaching.”
“Am I?” His fingers tug on my beltloop, pulling me against him. “Don’t deny your passion.”
“I have a simple solution,” Paisley interjects. “Leita can join my rotation. I won’t mind winning every competition we enter.”
My eyes roll. “Of course you won’t.”
“Somebody has to ride her for you to be satisfied. Might as well be me in the saddle. Unless you have a better idea.” My cousin stares at me, waiting for the reaction she’s aiming for.
I gulp as a familiar pang spreads in my chest. The pain accompanies a flood of memories. It hurts to imagine Pago as my past. He’s gone but never forgotten. Much like my competitive spirit.
But then I look at Leita. The mare catches me staring and whinnies. My heart melts like it did the day I first saw her. The ache fades. Guilt doesn’t slam into me. Instead, a lightness fills my entire body as if the weights holding me down suddenly vanish.
She can’t replace him. That’s never been her purpose. I’ve just been too stubborn to consider other options.
Drake saved me from making a huge mistake. I snuggle into his side while stroking Leita’s velvety nose. My very thoughtful boyfriend feeds her another carrot, which she happily crunches on.
“She’s a reminder of how sacred a bond between horse and rider can be,” I whisper. “Thank you for buying her, but I won’t take your money.”
He tucks me flush against him, bending to press his lips to my forehead. “How about a compromise?”
I lift my face to study his expression. “Such as?”
“You take her to a show. Just to see how it feels.” His thumb brushes along my cheek. “But no pressure. I’ll gladly pay thirty thousand to make sure she’s yours.”
My mind wanders to the steady thump of his pulse. Paisley takes Leita’s reins from Drake and walks her to the barn, already anticipating my response. The persistent pressure rooted deep inside of me loosens as a possibility appears. Maybe returning to this path is the right direction.
“I’ll consider a trial run.”