5. ATLAS
Chapter five
ATLAS
WHAT THE HORSES SEE
Was it mean not to tell Matthew about the Sherpa? Probably, but guys like him don’t belong out here. He’ll see that soon enough and head back to the city where he belongs. They always do.
Skye is on grooming duty today, so I can start scouting for the new horse trail.
The ranch sits on only a small portion of the land that the Beaker Brothers actually own.
Gramps sold off a section years ago, when he moved to Savannah, and they let the Fletchers use the back four acres to feed their flock when they couldn’t afford the increase in feed prices.
Thankfully, after a good year and that little bit of help, they’re doing okay.
Well, okay enough to no longer need the four acres, but we have them still grazing it anyway.
The sheep do a good job keeping the grass under control, so Dean and Nial have basically given them an open invitation.
That’s the type of people they are. Always looking for a way to help others.
“So, what’s the plan today?” Matthew asks, and I turn and get a shock.
Instead of being all buttoned up in a suit shirt and pants, he’s wearing what are clearly brand-new jeans, a blue flannel shirt, and boots.
His hair is swept back, still wet from his morning shower, I’m guessing, and his face is clean-shaven.
I don’t think I’ve seen a shadow on him yet, but looking at him now, like this, I’m actually wondering what that might look like.
I turn back to Clint’s stall, opening the door and ushering him out.
“I’m headed around the grounds to scout for the new trail. You can help Skye with the grooming if you like,” I tell him as I move down to the next stall. Loki steps forward when he sees me and nudges my hand with his head as I give him a good pet.
“I can help you. I know the land pretty well. I studied the maps.”
I roll my eyes. Typical city slicker thinking a map can tell him about this land. I open Loki’s door and he trots out, but instead of making his way to the paddocks, he turns and walks to Matthew.
“Good morning, Loki,” Matthew says, holding his hand out toward him.
“You know he’s deaf, right?”
“He can see my mouth move.”
“That doesn’t mean he knows what you’re saying,” I reply, and Loki bypasses Matthew’s hand to nudge his chin with his head.
It’s actually pretty adorable, and a smile teases at my lips.
“But he seems pretty happy to see you. Can you lead him out to the paddocks before he spots a guest walking by and ends up flat on his back?”
“Come on, Loki, let’s get you outside,” he says, stepping forward.
“Still deaf,” I say, and Matthew laughs.
“But he knows what I said anyway,” he replies as he and Loki walk past me like it’s no big deal. It’s a very big deal.
What is it about Matthew that Loki likes so much? A soft vanilla and soap scent lingers behind them as Matthew leads Loki out onto the grass. Maybe it’s his cologne.
“Meet me at the road in five,” I say, and he tosses a wave above his head and keeps walking.
I stop in at the house to grab one of the tablets.
The Beakers have been using new sensors for the herd, and as part of the program, the property was mapped by drone.
I haven’t been through the unused acres in forever, but it won’t have changed all that much, and while Matthew thinks he knows this place after studying a few maps, there’s a lot that a map can’t show you.
I can note the trail over the digital map to show the guys later, jotting down any specific excavation needs too, before we put a real plan in place to make it happen.
I find him waiting at the edge of the paddocks. Loki is with him, and he’s scratching behind his ears.
“You sure you wouldn’t rather stay here?” I ask, and he shakes his head without looking my way.
“Why don’t you want to take a couple of horses?” Matthew asks.
“You thinking of getting up on Loki?”
“Not yet, but that one there looks pretty sure-footed. What’s his name, then?” he asks, gesturing to the large black beauty under a nearby tree.
“Lucifer,” I reply, and he frowns.
“Okay, maybe not one that’s named after the devil. How about Gordon? Is he good for riding?”
“That donkey will kick you off and stomp on you in a second. Lucy is actually pretty sweet. He was named that because of the small, horn-shaped white patches on his head.”
Gordon’s the ranch donkey that thinks it’s a dairy cow and refuses to leave the herd when they’re being milked. Gramps created a harness for him to wear, so he can keep them company and pretend he’s actually being milked along with them.
“Oh, right. Okay. So why aren’t we taking horses?” he asks again, and I sigh.
“We don’t know what condition the ground is going to be in, or what path we’ll be taking through the trees, if we can get through at all in some sections.
The grass is long, making it easy for snakes to hide in, and the last thing I want is to be calling the vet to rush over with antivenom, or worse, with something to put them down. ”
“Oh, right. I didn’t think of that.”
“Wasn’t in your books, then?” I ask.
“Nope. So where do we start?” Wow, this guy just keeps on.
“Where else, but at the beginning. Once it’s completed, we’ll saddle the horses back at the stables, and then we’d have to bring the guests up the drive and along the front of the property, so we need to decide first, do we want the trail to start on the right or the left?”
“Well, probably best to start on the horse paddock side, right?”
“Why’s that?”
“Because guest parking is on the other side, so there are cars and possibly people not riding coming in or out of the ranch. It would be safer, wouldn’t it? Less likely to spook them too.”
I pause, taking in his reply. I half expected him not to have a reason. Okay, I wholly expected him not to have one. But he actually thought about the horses.
“Yeah, that’s true. Okay, so, we’ll start on this side. Let’s go.”
There is a pathway that runs all around Beaker Brothers Ranch, used for checking the outer fences, but it has gates sectioning off portions all the way around, and it isn’t great for larger groups.
We start right between it and the fence for the Royals’ property next door.
They don’t have as much land as the Beakers, and are pretty much surrounded by it on two sides, but the border line moves at an angle, meaning we’ve got plenty of room for our horse trail.
We step into the thick grass, and I’m grateful I’m wearing my tall boots and jeans.
While clothing is usually the last thing I want against my skin, having some protection from the brush and possible snakes we’ll encounter is, in this case, a good thing.
“The maps show the land rises up a little on this side, which could be good to do at the start while the horses have more energy,” Matthew says from behind me.
“I’m more worried about how many trees we’d need to clear to make the path. Let’s focus on looking for the most open pathway through that’s at least twelve to sixteen feet across.”
“Connor has already told me to spare no expense with this trail, so he won’t mind paying to clear whatever we need to.”
I turn and look at him deadpan.
“These trees are more a part of this land than you or even me, so if we can avoid cutting down something that’s been here for generations, that’s something money can’t buy, don’t you think?”
“I was just saying—“
“I know what you were saying, but having the means to do something doesn’t mean you should be doing it, does it?”
“You’re right.”
“What was that?” I ask, cupping one ear and leaning toward him. A smile creeps onto his lips.
“I said you’re right.”
“I just had to be sure I wasn’t hearing things,” I chuckle.
“Okay, okay. Can we move on now?”
“As long as for the rest of today—no, for the rest of your time here—you agree to remember just that.”
He scoffs.
“I’m serious,” I say, folding my arms over my chest.
He smirks, the corners of his hazel eyes crinkling.
“Okay, I’ll agree to remember that out here, you’re right.”
“It’s not exactly what I wanted, but I’ll take it. Come on, I’d like to have at least this side mapped out before lunch.”
I shove up the sleeves of my shirt and pull out the tablet from where I’d tucked it into the back of my jeans to bring up the map. Matthew moves to stand beside me, looking over my shoulder as I zoom in and mark the starting place and the ten feet we’ve moved through so far.
“Okay, let’s go deeper. The trees seem to grow a bit further apart up this way.
We could probably have the ground cover cleared out in no time through here,” I say, as I wander up between two larger Eastern White Pine trees that have to be older than I am.
It would be a shame to cut any of them down, but with how thick the trees get through the next section, we won’t really have a choice.
“I can mark this part in the map if you like,” Matthew says, and I turn to pass him the tablet.
He reaches out for it, his gaze lingering on the scars that peek out from the bunched-up sleeves of my shirt.
Is he going to ask what happened, or does he already know that too, like he seems to know so much about everyone else here?
The company he works for, the Richmont Group, the one Connor now owns and operates, used to be run by Connor’s grandfather, and while Connor thought he had kept his identity hidden from the world, they always knew where he was and who he was working for.
“So, we’ll have to take out maybe that tree there, and the one beside it, do you think?” Matthew asks, drawing his attention from my scars and turning it to the map on the tablet.
“Yeah, I don’t think we can avoid it, really.”
“Maybe we can plant new trees in other areas of the ranch to make up for the ones we have to cut down,” he suggests, and I can’t believe I didn’t think of that first.
“Yeah, that’s a great idea,” I reply, and his smile spreads wide, a warm flush to his lightly freckled cheeks. The scattered beams of the sun through the canopy illuminate them like a fine glitter. Shit, am I staring?