Chapter 9
That Damn Stetson
Sawyer
The sun dips below the horizon as I finish the evening chores. It had been a warm October day, but the warmth went with the sun, the autumn chill slowly creeping into the twilight hour. I inhale the crispness of fall mixed with the more prominent smell of horses.
Wes had surprised me yet again. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have thought he was one of us by the end of the day, especially in those Levi's and that Stetson.
Seeing Wes fully clad in cowboy attire had my body and brain at odds with one another.
I was not proud of how much seeing him roping had turned me on.
A simple hat and tight jeans should not have affected my body as much as they had, especially when I knew he was only here for one reason: to get Pops to sell the ranch.
And then there was my brain. I couldn’t stand Wes, despite the way I’d been ogling him today.
From his know-it-all attitude to his derisive remarks about Cottonwood Creek.
But he’d be out of here soon enough, so thinking of the way those Levi’s hugged his butt or how he’d known exactly how to let the horses greet him or his biceps flexing as he roped in the cows that strayed too far was senseless.
It was a good thing they didn’t need me or the horses for any more work at Dawson Ranch this week. I was beat from pulling double duty between the ranch and training the horses.
As a matter of fact, I’d neglected working with the young, temperamental gelding I recently rescued.
The rescue I’d gotten him from had named him Lucifer and the name sure did suit.
I was hoping to have him ready to ride by the end of fall, but we’d made little progress with each other these past few weeks.
I put Cash, June, Willie, and Dolly in the stable for the night and walk down to greet the rest of the crew.
Clover and Poppy knicker softly and come right up to the stall door for attention.
But when I move a few stalls down, Lucifer huffs out an agitated neigh and stomps his hooves.
I talk softly to him for a few minutes, waiting for him to calm down.
His ears still twitch, but he quiets and lets me take a step toward him.
I grab a sugar cube from my pocket to entice him to come closer.
His nose twitches as he sniffs the air. He takes one tentative step toward me and then another.
My patience is rewarded when he takes the sugar cube from my hand.
He munches gingerly as I reach out to stroke his neck.
He doesn’t flinch under my touch like he did when I first got him, and I’m grateful he’s learning to trust me.
There’s a lot more work that will need to be done with him, but I like taking on a challenge, and this horse is definitely a challenge.
The rescue said he was neglected and likely abused as a young horse. I saved him from being euthanized, but now it’s up to me to help him reach his full potential. He’s a beautiful horse, all black with dark, soulful eyes and a spirit to match his monicker.
Once Lucifer finishes the sugar cubes I've used as a bribe, he backs away.
"We'll get there, bud," I promise. I count it as a win and wipe my hands off on my jeans before shoveling some hay into the feeders and refilling the water buckets for the night.
Once I finish with the horses, I check on the goat enclosure again, making sure that Roscoe hasn’t been working on putting another hole in the fence before I feed and water them and close them into the small barn.
I sigh as I enter the house, flipping the lights on as the blaring silence surrounds me. Being perpetually single has led to lots of lonely nights in this house, but I’m more content now than I ever was when I was married.
I’m happy running my business on my own, having a couple of close friends and hobby animals that keep me busy.
But that doesn’t stop loneliness from creeping in from time to time, especially as the nights grow longer, colder and quieter.
The difference between this and the loud and boisterous day I had at Dawson Ranch is stark.
I already ate supper with the guys out by the fire pit, and I grilled everything up in tin foil so there are no dishes for me to do.
I kick off my boots and ignore the ache in my hands from holding onto the reins for hours. It’s a sign that my lupus might be flaring, something that is sure to put a wrench in my training plans for Lucifer.
Sometimes I can ride all day without any problems, and other times my symptoms flare up, and I need to make an excuse to get out of the saddle. If Wes hadn’t been here, it would have been much more difficult to leave Pops and Tripp to finish vaccinating.
Lucky for me, Wes was here.
I hope the pain in my hands doesn’t indicate a major flare-up coming. There’s too much work to be done around here for me to be down for weeks at a time. A problem horse that needs training and a problem city boy who needs put in his place.
I massage my knuckles, deciding it’s time for some anti-inflammatories for the incessant ache. The silence eats at me, little anxieties sneaking through the quiet to worry away at my wellbeing. I need a distraction.
I snag my phone out of my pocket, wincing a little when my stiff fingers don’t want to do what I’m asking them to. My body is a hot mess today. Good thing Allie is on speed dial.
The phone rings twice before she picks up, her voice bright and cheery. “Hey. I was just going to call you and see how your day with the boys went. Any bodies you need help disposing of?”
I’d called Allie yesterday to tell her I might need help burying a body since I had to work with Wes a second day in a row.
“He wore his old Stetson today.”
“Lord have mercy. Was he as beautiful as I remember him being with that thing on?”
I scoff. “Nothing to write home about.”
Liar.
“Guess I’ll have to swing by Dawson Ranch and see for myself, then.”
“You’re not interested in Wes,” I say, willing it to be true because for some reason the idea of my best friend being with him doesn’t sit right with me.
“I’m not sure. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him in a Stetson,” she ponders aloud.
“Wouldn’t it be weird since he and Tripp are like besties?”
“Hmm. Could be fun. Sneaking around. Getting dirty in the back of the pickup truck.”
“Allison Nicole Matthews.”
She laughs through the line. “Are you calling dibs on him, then? It’s been a while since you’ve gotten your rocks off on something other than that vibrator in the top drawer of your nightstand. It’d be a waste to let a man like that in a Stetson go. Save a horse, ride Wes Dawson,” she jokes.
“Oh, for the love, Allie. Stop snooping through my damn drawers when I’m not home.”
“You were home.” There’s a beat of silence. “You were in the shower, and I was bored. There’s no shame in the sex toy game. It’s just more fun to play the game with a partner.”
I groan, the tips of my ears burning from embarrassment. “Can we not talk about this?”
“About your vibrator or about your lack of a sex life?”
“Both. Please.” I sprawl out on my bed, eyeing my nightstand with disdain.
“A good friend would know when her bestie needs a little push.”
“A little push into Wes Dawson?” I question.
“I don’t know. Maybe. You’re in a rut. He’s not planning on staying. Sounds like some good ol’ no-strings-attached fun to me.”
I roll the idea over in my mind briefly before discarding it. “No way. I hate Wes, remember?”
“Hate is a powerful emotion. Some of the best sex I’ve ever had was hate sex.”
“With who?”
She went quiet over the line.
“Who, Allie?” Although her silence was answer enough. There were few people Allie hated and only one that she wouldn’t want to tell me about. “Not him. Please tell me you didn’t have sex with Chase after you caught him texting another woman.”
She and Chase had been in an on again off again relationship since high school. But this last time I’d thought she’d meant it when she’d sworn she was done with him.
She lets out a breathy laugh. “Okay. I won’t tell you.”
“Allie,” I chide. “You swore you were done with him.”
“I am done with him. I’m just not done with his dick.”
“What happened to the dating apps?”
“Did you forget the fiasco with the guy who was married? I’m so over meeting these losers. At least I know what I’m getting with Chase. It’s just sex.”
I can hear the apathetic tone to her voice, and I want to shake her. Allie is one of the best people I know. She deserves more than anything her ex can ever give her.
Her heart is as big as Texas, and I can’t believe the men in her life have taken advantage of her because of it. It makes me want to knee them directly in the balls, and maybe do something immature and stupid like slash their tires or key their truck.
“That’s how it starts. Next thing you know, you’ll be making him dinner every night and ditching girls’ nights because he doesn’t trust you to go out without him,” I whine.
“I promise not to cancel a single girls’ night because of him.”
“Mm-hmm,” I reply, unconvinced.
“This conversation took a turn. We were supposed to be talking about you and Wes,” she says, trying to steer the conversation away from her own dating problems.
“That is not what we were supposed to be talking about. That’s just what you’ve fixated on this entire conversation,” I point out, covering my face with my arm to block out the light filtering into my room from the hallway.
“Wes is a good guy,” she says.
I put my tongue between my lips and blow a raspberry in response to her take on Wes Dawson.
“You might not agree with him wanting Pops to sell the ranch, but he’s not a bad person. You know Tripp wouldn’t put up with him if he was. Speaking of which, under no circumstances are you to tell Tripp that I’m still hooking up with Chase.”
“What do I get for keeping my mouth shut?”
“My eternal friendship and undying gratitude.”
“Ha! I already have that. Try again,” I press.
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone about Wes.”
“Deal!”
I don’t need Allie putting silly ideas in my head about Wes Dawson and no-strings-attached fun. I didn’t have time to worry about sex.
Or the lack thereof.
There were a million things I needed to get done, and the way my body felt like I’d been hit by a truck after a day in the saddle, made me think there was a flare-up coming and who knew how long that would keep me away from working with the horses the way I needed to?
I’d get as much done tomorrow as I could. Until my muscles were weak and every bone in my body ached and I was too exhausted to think about Wes Dawson and how he’d looked in that damn Stetson and those Levi’s today.