Chapter Twenty
November, fourteen years ago
Mitch
“You need to put your back into it. Shovel that shit like you mean it,” Ali barked, not bothering to look over her shoulder at him as she spoke.
Mitch lifted the shovel and dumped its contents onto the wheelbarrow nearby. “And you do this every day?”
Ali rested her elbow on her pitchfork, her laughter echoing in the otherwise empty barn. “Stalls should always be mucked daily. So yes, we do it every day. All year round.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Jacks said you want to be a vet. You should know these things.”
Mitch pushed the fork into another patch of dirty hay. “I do but that’s years away.”
Ali shrugged. “Never too early to start. Especially if you want Brenda to give you a summer job.”
“You’ve heard about that too, I see.” He glanced around the barn. They’d cleaned five out of the ten stalls so far. “How long does it normally take you to do the whole barn?”
“Well, when it’s Colt and me, it ain’t bad.
He has this quick way of doing things. He sort of stands in the center and divides the stall into four parts, then starts with one quadrant, pulls all the bedding and manure to the center, and sifts and chucks into the wheelbarrow.
” She gestured around them. “I’m still learnin’ it, and I’m much slower. Though not as slow as you.”
Mitch chuckled, shaking his head. It had taken Jackie a lot of making big puppy eyes at Dustin before he reluctantly grunted that he wouldn’t tell Brenda she’d brought Mitch round.
Jackie whispered into his ear at breakfast, when Dustin was grumbling about the coffee machine having too many settings, that if he stepped in to help with chores today, while she trained on Ricochet, Dustin might be more likely to look the other way later, when she had “plans”.
That one small word—plans—played on repeat in his mind. A never-ending loop of butterflies filled his stomach, turning into nervous bats. Damn, he wanted her so much.
Mitch had very valiantly—or very stupidly—told Dustin he’d help Ali muck the stalls, so Dustin didn’t have to. Dustin’s moustache twitched with so much suppressed laughter that Mitch should’ve suspected it was a much harder job than he thought.
It wasn’t too bad, but it was hard. There was no other word for it. If he wasn’t in such good physical shape, his back would be killing him by now.
“Why didn’t we do it the Colt way?” He grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow and pushed it out of the stall, toward the gate of the opposite one. “Sounds like a good idea.”
Ali reached his side and wiped her forehead with a swatch of material she pulled from her pocket.
“Because I’ve only been here four months or so, and I haven’t gotten the hang of the Colt way, as you’ve called it, yet.
At the previous ranch I worked on, the way I showed you was the way we’ve always done it.
Seven years and all the stalls have always been clean and tidy.
Colt’s goin’ to love it, by the way. Get right cocky about it. ”
“The Colt way?”
She nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “Damn right. I know he’s not been particularly welcomin’ to you …”
“You mean, outright hostile?”
Ali groaned. “You ain’t seen Colt bein’ hostile.
Trust me, you don’t wanna see that. He ain’t a bad guy, just protective of his people.
” She looked right into his eye. “Jacks is important to us all. I don’t know her that well yet, but if you hear people talk about her …
Colt pretty much grew up on the ranch. Dustin took him in as a scrappy teenager.
He didn’t have an easy life with his family. ”
“I’m sorry,” Mitch said automatically but Ali waved him off.
“Don’t be, he’s over all that crap now. I’m sayin’ that, to him, Jacks is a bit like a little sister. So, he won’t like you on principle.”
Mitch nodded mechanically. He could respect that. “I really like her, you know. I would never hurt her, not on purpose.”
Ali clapped her hand on his back. “I have eyes. I can see how much you like her. Anyone can.” She lowered her voice. “Can see the same when she looks at you, too, you know.”
Mitch gave her a wide smile. “Thanks, Ali.”
Ali cleared her throat, awkwardly grabbing the pitchfork again. “Now, enough with all this sentimental bullshit. Let’s keep goin’. Kit and Dustin will be bringin’ the horses back in for the night.”
A mild breeze cooled the sheen of sweat covering his cheeks. He straightened his hat, pushing his hands in his pockets.
Mid-afternoon had snuck up on the ranch while he was busy with Ali in the barn.
When he shot her a triumphant grin after the last stall was all tidied up, she snorted and told him to empty the wheelbarrow and move on to the next barn.
Mitch’s smile had crashed to the ground.
Ali waited a beat before she roared with laughter, saying she got him.
Apparently, local ranch hands took care of that.
He hadn’t realized there were more people working here.
Mitch didn’t look back at Ali as he walked out of the barn, but he hoped that maybe he’d gained one ally at the ranch.
Now, he was watching Jackie’s training. He hadn’t had a chance yet to see her compete at a rodeo—the dates clashed with his swimming schedule—but this, seeing her guide Ricochet through the cloverleaf pattern of barrels, was something else. She was hypnotic. Her finesse, her speed …
He leaned in, resting his elbows over the wooden fence.
Just her.
Jackie must’ve spotted him as she raised her gaze to meet his, shooting him a blinding smile. She loosened her grip on the reins.
Ricochet neighed, and one of the barrels tipped over.
Jackie grimaced, regaining control of the reins. “I’m sorry!” she shouted to Colt, who let out an annoyed growl from inside the paddock.
Colt waved his phone, a timer ticking away on the screen. “Focus, Jacks. That’d be a five-second penalty.” He glared at Mitch. “You’re distracting her. Go see if you’re not needed elsewhere.”
Mitch swallowed and gave a wooden nod. He wasn’t Colt’s biggest fan, but he didn’t want to pull Jackie’s focus away either.
“Colt, stop being a dick,” Jackie shot back, leading Ricochet to what Mitch assumed was the starting position. “I’ve been at this for ages, I’m all stiff and cranky. Mimi never makes me practice for this long.”
Colt stomped up to her, putting his palm against Ricochet’s neck. “Brenda ain’t here now and you’ve asked for my help. You know yourself that the indoor winter rodeos are tough. Don’t you want to pass the qualifier in Stephenville?”
Mitch tilted his head, straining his ears to hear Jackie’s response.
“You know I do,” she said in a low voice. “But I’m tired. Ricochet’s tired. Being in a saddle all day won’t make up for the fact I don’t practice during the week.”
Colt stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. “That it won’t.”
They were quiet for a moment, the only sound reaching Mitch coming from Ricochet’s hooves moving back and forth in the dirt.
He didn’t want to walk away but he also didn’t want to interrupt them.
Barrel racing was important to Jackie. She’d shared her frustrations with how out of shape she’d been feeling lately, how she didn’t think she’d make the cut for any of the winter indoor qualifiers.
Every time she brought it up, Mitch heard the unspoken doubt in her voice: should I quit?
Maybe he was projecting something that had been slowly forming in his own mind.
How much longer would he be able to pull off swimming?
Would he be able to keep up with the strict training schedule in later years, as the classes got more difficult?
How about vet school? He supposed if he wanted to stay at UT, he needed to keep swimming, and do well, to keep his scholarship.
His father had made his feelings about paying for it very clear.
So, Mitch guessed he was stuck, at least until he graduated.
He’d find another way to fund the vet school.
Colt’s sigh pulled Mitch from his musings. “Fine. We’re done for today. Same time tomorrow?”
Jackie smiled at him. “Thanks, Colt.” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “What was my average time today?”
Colt didn’t bother looking at his phone to check the latest time. “17.54 seconds.”
Jackie swore so loudly, she spooked Ricochet. She leaned over and whispered something into the horse’s ear that Mitch couldn’t make out.
Colt’s expression softened. “You can do it, Jacks. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry? That’s like grandmas’ league time. I bet Mimi could beat that.” She took her foot from the stirrup and swung it over Ricochet, jumping down. Dust rose up as her boots hit the ground. She wiped her hands onto her trousers. “I shouldn’t even bother.”
“Get some rest, sleep on it. We can talk tomorrow,” Colt said. “Do you want me to take Ricochet back?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.” She sniffed. “Thanks, Colt, I appreciate you. I mean it.”
Colt smiled, touched the brim of his hat and tipped it toward her. He then looked to Mitch, who was still standing behind the fence. “We’re all hitting the bar later tonight. Even Dustin.”
Mitch furrowed his brow. “Is that an invitation?”
Jackie laughed, reaching the fence with Ricochet trotting by her side. “He was saying we’ll be alone for a bit.”
Colt walked out of the paddock, shaking his head at Mitch. “You’re not very quick-witted, are ya?” He looked to Jackie. “Just sayin’. In case it was of interest.” He winked at them, pushed his hands into his pockets and walked away, a surprisingly good whistling accompanying him.
Jackie stood in front of Mitch, casting her gaze to the ground. “I’m sorry you had to see me fumble that last round. It wasn’t so bad earlier.”
Mitch reached out to her, hooking his thumb under her chin. He tipped it back, forcing her gaze to lock on his. “You’re a natural in the saddle. The time doesn’t take away from it.”