Chapter 12
Bailey
Brett mentioned he’s not been around horses in over a year, and I didn’t want to put him on the spot with the trail-ride, but he seemed up for it when we talked about him getting back in the saddle last night.
It’s true he was up for most things the few hours we spent together, but maybe he still isn’t ready.
I have to tread carefully, but subtly isn’t my strong suit.
The horses clearly love him, so he has nothing to worry about there. Some people are natural animal lovers, and he’s in that category.
It still prompts me to ask, “Are you sure you’re up for this?” We’re saddling up Pepper and Spirit—I went back to get her earlier—when I turn my head and see he’s stroking Pepper gently over her mane, talking to her softly.
He eyes me and clears his throat. “There might be something I, um—”
He palms the back of his neck with his hand and takes a breath.
My eyes scan him over quickly, trying to interpret from the look on his face what he’s about to say.
The crease between his eyebrows is new, and his demeanor seems to shift somehow.
Maybe I’m just picking up on the vibes, but…
is he anxious? Does he not want to do this?
“Take your time,” I say, patting Spirit on her side as she waits for me to mount. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We’re all good over here.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not that… I just haven’t ridden for a long time.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” I say, remembering everything he said about his horse, Clyde, who thought he was a dog.
It was the sweetest story because horses are exactly like that.
“But if you do give it a try, I’m sure it will all come back to you in no time.
You’re good at most things I’ve seen so far. ”
“Most things?” He quirks a brow and gives me a playful smile that seems to soften the concerned look that shone in his eyes just moments ago.
“Fine. Everything,” I mutter. This only makes him spread that roguish grin. “I’m sure horseback riding will be no different. But it’s optional. I know Spirit loves a ride before we set off for the day on the trails.”
He nods, swallowing hard, and surprises me by saying: “I sort of haven’t ridden since—” He stops short again and lets out another breath. “Fuck,” he mumbles, lifting his hat for a moment and raking his hand over his hair.
Shit! Of course. He did mention he hasn’t been around horses after losing his baby.
His eyes flick up at me and I hold his gaze. In return, he holds mine with the same amount of intensity as I’m giving. “I haven’t ridden at all since I lost—um—Clyde.” The words confirm it, even though the last part is barely audible and my heart thrums a little stronger hearing it.
Of course, it makes total sense now about his apprehension.
I feel my throat tighten and it runs dry in an instant. Suddenly I feel like I’m standing out in the desert without water, not saddling up the horses for an afternoon adventure. “I’m so sorry,” I say. “It’s not easy. I’ve been there… with Pony. I feel like she just got me, ya know?”
He nods. “I lost something when I lost Clyde. And so far, I just haven’t been able to get it back.”
Talk about throat contractions getting tighter with every word he speaks.
I feel terrible for him. The one thing that gets me to my core is when you lose an animal—Pony springs to mind again—and then the suffering that ensues when you try to go on with life without them.
Soul mate I called her, and it wasn’t untrue.
They understand you in ways that humans can’t comprehend.
Maybe that’s why I’ve had better relationships with my horses than I have with men.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I tell him quietly, hoping to God that I didn’t just push him into this when he’s not ready.
That totally wasn’t what I was trying to do.
I just know how much he loves horses and how his face lit up last night when he met my three.
Today he’s been a hit with all of them, even King Zeus on his royal throne hasn’t given us a lick of trouble.
“The thing is,” he says, placing his hat back down on his head and kicking the dirt with his boot. His eyes cast down, his face somber like he’s deep in thought. “It’s something I know I’ve needed to do for a long time. I just haven’t had the opportunity, or the guts, before now.”
“Are you sure I’m not being a pushy bitch? My friends say I can be a little that way sometimes.”
He chuckles lightly, thankfully, though he shakes his head. “You’re not being pushy. You invited me on a trail ride, and I’d love to go. I just need a minute to see if I can still do this.”
“Take all the time you need,” I say. “Pepper isn’t in a hurry. She’s a darling.”
He strokes her again, and doesn’t she just love it. Her tail swipes side to side, her dark eyes shining bright. She’s the perfect horse to help him with his apprehension.
And though my philosophy is that jumping back in the saddle can ease all ailments, fears, and worries—I realize it’s not everyone’s way of thinking. Despite my sometimes tough exterior, I do understand we’re not all the same. I have patience.
And Brett is struggling. From what he’s told me, and how he’s acting, he’s been at this crossroads for a while now.
I may not know him much at all, but I can sense that he wants to give it a try. He strikes me as the kind of guy who would back away if it wasn’t something he wanted to do.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he says as he takes the reins.
I don’t even get another word out before his foot is in the stirrup and he hoists himself up onto Pepper, slinging his leg over the other side of her body.
It’s clear in those few seconds of watching the swift efficiency in which he moves, and now seated in the saddle, that he’s a natural. A cowboy at heart.
Hell, it’s also becoming plainly obvious that he’s a natural at most things I’ve seen him do so far. He didn’t balk at shoveling shit, hauling bay bales from the far side of the barn, or cleaning out the stables and filling the water troughs. He just gets on with it without any fuss.
Of course my mind was on all of his other attributes while he was working up a sweat with the stable jobs.
I wasn’t standing around watching him by any means—I did my fair share of hauling and shoveling, but it’s not like I couldn’t notice the way his arm muscles flexed with each movement.
I’d be blind to not see how strong he is and how he lifted those bails like they weighed nothing.
Try as I might to keep my vivid thoughts at bay—my mind frequently wanders back to his other very talented attributes, and I cannot stop thinking about last night and also how sweet and somewhat vulnerable he is.
The more I think about it, the more I want to get to know more about him.
Every moment I spend with him, I realize I don’t just want to have another romp in the hay; I find myself wanting to know about his life.
Shit! It was supposed to be just a one-night of fun with a sexy cowboy.
That was it. Just me letting my hair down for a change, with no strings attached.
Damn him! No, it isn’t his fault. It’s mine.
Yes, he’s a distraction, and I’m not upset he’s here, I just thought I was done with men after the last time.
Now I’m having all these… feelings. Feelings are what got me into the messes I found myself in before.
The past, Bailey. Something I didn’t want to repeat.
A part of me is shocked and surprised at just how much I’m drawn to him, and I don’t know what to make of it.
I don’t fall hard. I mean, I didn’t even know I was capable of that, or that there was a chance I’d let myself again.
But Brett is someone I can see myself falling for, if I let myself.
A very big if. And besides, it’s stupid to think that he would even want that.
He’s a sexy, rogue cowboy from Tennessee who works in the music industry.
He probably meets his fair share of women every day, and could have anyone he wanted.
I’m a simple country gal who loves her horses just as much as I love Wyoming and Cedar Hollow.
I thrive on the work I do and I don’t even mind all the horse manure. I live for it.
But Brett, he’s a mystery, and each passing second I’m more and more curious about what brought him here.
Not just to see Jed, but Wyoming in general.
He didn’t seem to have any idea I’d be here when he walked in with Zane—his expression was just as shocked as mine.
I’ve got Jed to blame for having absolutely no warning I was about to see my sexy cowboy again, and judging by the smirky look on his face when he left the barn, he knew something was going on between us.
“You’re going to be fine,” I say as he blows out a breath.
Something about the way he’s not afraid to be a little vulnerable around me, even though he doesn’t know me very well, stirs inside my veins.
I see him take a few deep breaths, and somehow I know he’s going to be okay. “You’re already doing it, Brett.”
He swallows, shifting his transfixed gaze back to me. “Thank you, Bailey.”
I blink a couple of times, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice and the glisten in his eyes as I look right into them.
They cloud over for just a moment, enough to make me shift my eyes to my boots while I internally wrestle with my composure.
What is it about him that seems to touch me right to my very foundation?
It seems to happen so easily, and just with a few words or a glance. “For what?” I dare ask.
“For this,” he says simply.