Chapter 6
6
Essie
T wo weeks after Pirate joined Lodestar Ranch, the thrush in his hooves had been vanquished and he was fully sound. He had also put on enough weight that he was no longer a sack of dirty bones. And that spark in his eyes that had told me his spirit hadn’t been entirely broken had brightened to full mischief. I was nearly vibrating with excitement, because today would be his first lesson under saddle—if I could catch him, that was.
Pirate, it turned out, was a goddamn clown.
I stood in the small pasture near the gate, a carrot in one hand and a lead rope in my other. Pirate stood in the center of the field. We stared each other down, each waiting for the other to make the first move. We’d been through this three times already. He’d trot toward me, amiable as you please, only to pull out of reach before I could clip the rope to his halter. Then he’d bolt around the fence line, kicking up his heels like a fool, so damn proud of himself.
I had the feeling he didn’t actually hate the idea of coming with me, even though he had no clue what was in store for him today. It was more like he thought this was a game, and he was winning.
Which he was.
Damn his pretty hide.
I wasn’t fool enough to chase after him. There was no way my two legs could outrun his four. Dogs, fathers, horses—they were all the same. You chased them, they’d run. So I responded the only way I knew how: I turned my back and pretended I didn’t care.
And found myself staring straight into Braxton’s amused face.
“Is the sweet baby giving you problems, hellion?” he drawled.
Lord, deliver me from this smug man. I did not have time for assault charges today.
“This isn’t stallion behavior,” I informed him, my tone dripping with false patience, like he hadn’t spent his life around the animals. “He’s not dropping dick or vocalizing. He’s just got high energy now that he has food in his belly and hasn’t figured out how to manage it yet.”
Brax’s gaze flicked behind me and his lips tilted up before he met my eyes again. “Is that so? ”
I resisted rolling my eyes. If he thought I didn’t know Pirate was sneaking up behind me, he was mistaken, and so was Pirate. A nine-hundred-pound animal wasn’t exactly subtle. “Yes, that’s so,” I snapped.
I listened to the muffled clomp of hooves against the damp ground. Pirate was almost close enough. When I heard his soft snuffle, I pivoted slowly, opening my hand to offer the carrot on my flat palm. He lipped it up and I cautiously lifted my other hand to his halter. “Easy, baby,” I murmured.
But before I made contact, he snorted and pressed his forehead to my chest, and with a big nod sent me reeling. I took a step back to regain my balance, but the water trough hit me behind the knee and my leg buckled. I went down, splashing ass-first into the cool water.
“Brat!” I shrieked.
Pirate was already halfway across the field, pleased as fuck with himself. Judging from Brax’s loud laughter, he wasn’t the only one.
Ever the gentleman, Brax extended a hand. “Here, let me help you.”
“I’ve got it.” I glared and hoisted myself out. It wasn’t pretty and involved a bit of twisting and sloshing, but I got the job done. Soaked from my knees to my armpits, I said, “See? I’m fine.”
His gaze raked down my body, taking in my wet clothing. My yellow tee shirt had probably gone fully transparent, and he could likely see my nipples, rock hard from cold, poking through my sports bra, but I kept my chin up, refusing to verify this for myself. What I didn’t know couldn’t humiliate me.
He jerked his face away, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “You always were too proud to accept help.”
His words infuriated me. I wasn’t too proud to accept help. I just hated help being foisted on me against my will.
“Am I? Because I could use a little help drying off.”
“Wha—” His eyes widened as I lunged for him.
Even though it was exactly what I intended, I still felt a bolt of surprise when my body made contact with his. Brax had never been slow on his feet and I had half expected him to dodge. But instead, he caught me instinctively, his arms banding around my waist. I wiggled my dripping torso against his broad chest and firm abs, making him as wet as possible, using his body like he was my own personal towel.
“Jesus, hellion. You trying to kill me?” he muttered against my forehead.
“Just accepting your help, that’s all,” I said, my voice dripping with sugar.
I had meant to piss him off, nothing more, but I had miscalculated how good it would feel to be wrapped up in all that hard-bodied warmth. An embarrassing sound of contentment escaped me and I rolled my lips together to keep it from happening again.
“Cold?” he asked gruffly. He didn’t wait for me to answer—my peaked nipples pressing against his ribcage probably told him everything he needed to know—before he briskly rubbed his large hands up and down my back.
A memory surfaced of the last time we had held each other like this. The day he almost died, fifteen years ago. It had been adrenaline then rather than cold that had made my body shake, and I had pressed my ear to his chest and let the sound of his heartbeat calm me. His arms had wrapped me up so tightly, like he was afraid I would disappear if he let go.
But he did let go.
I remembered that, too.
“I’m good now.” I pushed away from him, then smirked like my mind wasn’t all tangled in the past as I took in his gray shirt. Soaked. “Thanks for the help.”
He rubbed his chest, like something bothered him there. Maybe we had collided a little too hard. “I’ll get Pirate and give you time to change. You can’t ride like that. Your thighs will chafe in those wet jeans.”
“I’m not riding.”
“You’re not? Isn’t today supposed to be Pirate’s first lesson under saddle?”
“Yeah, but not with me. James is doing it.” I hoped he didn’t hear the sour note in my voice.
That was because James was taking the lead on Pirate’s training. I tried not to feel some kind of way about that. When it came to training horses for reining and fence work, she was one of the best there was, and there was no doubt in my mind that in a few more years, she would be the best. Hell, I’d even hired her last year to work with a horse of mine before I retired from barrel racing. Pirate was in good hands with her.
But I wanted it to be me.
It was better for Pirate this way. I knew that. I was two years older than James, but I didn’t have her decades of experience training horses. I had been riding since I was five and competing since I was eight, and my junior world championship barrel racing record still stood—in fact, I had broken James’s record to get it, and I had been younger than her when I did it. As a barrel racer, there were maybe three women in the whole wide world who could claim to be better than me on a bad day. But as a trainer? I was just an apprentice.
Still. There was a little voice in my heart whispering that the bond between me and Pirate was special, and by working together we could push each other to greatness. Was that silly? Sentimental? I wanted it to be me. It would have been me if Brax hadn’t stolen Pirate out from under me.
I knew I should be grateful that he had found a legal way to keep Pirate safe and healthy, and I was. It was just that my gratitude ran a little feral around the edges.
“Right.” Brax frowned. “You okay with that?”
I didn’t want to admit how childish I was feeling about the whole thing. Not to anyone, really, but especially not to him. “Why wouldn’t I be?” I challenged.
“Well, if I had to guess, I’d say you have strong feelings about this horse and how things should be done with him, and you’d like to be the one to have final say in his training and care.” He moved to the fence, picked up the length of rope draped over the top rail, and studied it. Ben must have been out here earlier practicing his roping tricks. “But I also know that you want what’s best for Pirate and you also know, even if it stings your pride a little, that James has a skill set you haven’t mastered yet. I figure that means you’ll tell people you’re okay with it until you find a way to actually be okay with it. You’ll push aside whatever jealousy you feel to do what’s best for Pirate.”
I hated that he could still read me so well, all these years later. “Well, I’d say that’s about right.”
He cocked a brow. “Of course I’m right. That’s who you are. You allow yourself to feel your feelings. What you don’t allow is for your feelings to run you.”
That almost sounded like a compliment. I swallowed hard and looked away, occupying myself with wringing as much of the water from the hem of my tee shirt as I could. The bright Colorado sunshine would do the rest.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you be in a windowless office, gussied up in a suit and tie and confusing people out of their money?”
He snickered. “I don’t wear a suit, and if people are confused when I’m done with them, then I didn’t do my job right. I’m my own damn boss and I decide how I spend my time. Today, there wasn’t anything more important than seeing Pirate’s first lesson under saddle.”
“Yeah, well, you should call first.” It couldn’t be denied that I sounded a little sulky about it. That might have something to do with the fact that he had witnessed my interactions with Pirate.
I doubted he was surprised at all. Falling into a water trough was probably exactly what he expected from me. Incompetence.
“Who would I call?” He cocked a brow. “It’s my horse and my family’s ranch. I’ll come and go as I please.”
Me. So I can leave .
“I’m just saying, a heads up would be nice. So we can have Pirate ready for you. Otherwise…” I gestured to the colt, who appeared to have lost all interest in us and was moseying through the pasture, nibbling grass. He’d be easy to get now.
Brax squinted. “Hm. I might be able to do something about that.”
With the rope in hand, he walked toward Pirate, coming at him from an angle to avoid arousing the horse’s suspicions. As he got closer, he twirled the rope above his head, faster and faster, opening the large loop at the end. I held my breath as I watched. Brax was ridiculously good with a lasso—maybe even better than Zack, and Zack was a professional .
At the exact moment Pirate gave into his curiosity and lifted his head, Brax sent the loop sailing. It fell neatly over Pirate’s head. With a quick tug, the lasso tightened around his neck. Pirate was caught.
Brax clucked his tongue and Pirate ambled forward without a fuss. He seemed to have forgotten all about his earlier game.
I bit back an annoyed groan. Once again, Brax had swept in to save my ass. Fucking cowboy. There would be no living with him after this.
But holy hell, was it hot.