11. ATLAS
Chapter eleven
ATLAS
ALL IN A DAY’S WORK
I have to admit I was impressed by the way Matthew handled himself earlier.
Hearing him being so forceful with whoever he was on the phone with, the confidence in his voice, it had me transfixed.
It was the same take-charge energy that had him jumping headfirst into the pool to save me last night. Not that I actually needed saving.
I lead the new mare, Dorris, into the stables.
“So, where do you want to call home, Dorris?” I ask as I let the lead rope go slack. She walks me all the way to the end before turning and making a start back in the other direction. Then she pauses at a stall midway and walks right in.
“Okay, here it is,” I say, unclipping the lead rope and hanging it on the hook by the gate as I close it and leave Dorris to settle herself into her new home.
I spot the stallion Matthew was bringing in before I see him.
This one has a dominant personality, I can tell already.
He walks tall with his neck stretched long, elevating his stature as high as he can.
He trots on through the doorway and immediately walks into the first stall.
“That was easy,” Matthew says, unclipping his lead rope and closing the gate behind the horse.
“Let’s hope they’re all this eager to settle in,” I say, and he fumbles then drops the lead rope as he tries to hang it on the hook by the gate.
I bend to pick it up for him, but he bends too, and then a pang shoots through my head as we clash together.
He stumbles sideways, holding his head as he falls to the ground.
I manage to stay on my feet, but the throbbing in my skull makes my vision a little blurry.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says as I blink away the tiny stars.
“Are you okay?” I ask, reaching out my hand.
“That depends, were there always two of you?” he asks with a chuckle.
“You wish.”
“Could be fun, if you’re into that sort of thing,” he replies, and then his cheeks turn a bright shade of pink, and he covers his mouth as if he can somehow shove the words back in. “I didn’t, I mean, I…” he stammers.
“Wow. How concussed are you?” I ask with a small laugh that hopefully settles his nerves.
“Not as much as I’d like, to be honest,” he replies, finally taking my hand, warmth immediately spreading through his touch and up my arm. “Good thing Nial hasn’t set up any cameras out here yet.”
“Yeah, I expect he’d have that posted online in a heartbeat.
So, you think you can manage bringing in a few more?
” I ask, acutely aware that I’m still holding his hand, but I can’t convince my fingers to uncurl and release him.
It’s like whatever warm energy’s being traded between us has fused his hand to mine.
Is that even possible? Like with magnetic pulls and stuff?
“Yeah, I can help with the rest of them. Maybe if we get done in time, we can start plotting out some more of the trail after?”
“We can do that,” I say, and then Skye’s voice breaks whatever magnetic force was holding us together, and he rips his hand away and bends down to grab the lead again. I stay where I am and save us both the repeated headache.
“You guys okay in here?” Skye asks as he leads one of the smallest horses in from the trailer. “I was starting to think maybe you got lost on your way to the stables.”
“Funny, kid. Could you have chosen a smaller horse to bring in?” I ask, and he laughs.
“Nope. I checked. This guy is the littlest one of the them all. His name’s Flop.
I think it’s because of his ears,” Skye says, and I focus on the horse he’s leading in.
While most horses have ears that stick right up and twitch every which way as they focus on their surroundings, this fella’s ears are bent over like a puppy dog’s. “Do you think he’s okay?”
“Probably a birth defect. The previous owners were good to their horses, and none of the paperwork mentioned any trauma. Welcome home, Flop,” I said on my way past, giving him a scratch behind his floppy ears.
“So, handsome, which stall do you want to call home?” Matthew asks the horse, and I can’t help but smile at the way he calls this odd-looking fella handsome.
Skye laughs.
“I think he should go in next to the big guy,” Skye says, and before I can say anything, Matthew interjects.
“How about you lead him down the row and let him pick for himself. He’ll tell you where he wants to be if you let him.”
Skye shrugs and starts to lead Flop down past the stalls.
Matthew looks my way with a glint in his eye that sends a shiver through me, and I turn on my heel and make my way back out to the horses.
I have work to do. We both do. That’s what I need to stay focused on.
The work. Not Matthew, and the way his lips pick up on one side in a sort of half smile when he looks at me.
Urgh. What is this? I don’t think about the way a guy smiles.
Or how deep and throaty his voice gets when he’s being all take-charge guy.
No. Stop. This is not how you think. You need to focus.
There are horses that need to be rehomed.
Just do that. The sooner we do that, the better.
The sooner we get the horses put away, the sooner I go on a walk through the woods, mapping out the new trail alone with Matthew.
That thought sends a flurry of butterflies swirling through my gut.
There is seriously something wrong with me.
I grab the next horse from the truck, hoping that if I just focus on the task ahead of me, I’ll be able to shake the intrusive thoughts of Matthew, but every time I walk past him, he throws me that smirk, and I’m spiraling all over again.
Urgh, why did I have to go and kiss him last night?
Everything was fine before I went and did that.
I’m lying to myself, and it’s not helping at all.
But the truth was that Matthew had gotten under my skin from the first day he rolled onto the ranch in his fancy suit and shiny black shoes.
Never had a guy looked so out of place here.
I thought for sure we’d seen the last of him when he rolled on out only an hour later, but he was back before I knew it, and I couldn’t understand why.
Guys like him don’t last out here; they come to visit, they try a few activities for kicks, then they go back to their cushy life in the city with their tall glass towers and the constant buzz of traffic to put them to sleep each night.
I need the feel of the clean, cool breeze on my skin, the only hum coming from the crickets that sing into the bright, clear sky on Beaker Brothers.
“You good?” Matthew asks, and I startle out of whatever haze I’d slipped into.
“Fine. I’m good. Just grabbing this guy,” I say, and he laughs.
“Pretty sure that one’s a girl,” he says, and I look back. Fuck, he’s right.
“That’s what I meant. Come on, Holly, it’s time to get you home.”
***
“That’s all of them.” Mathew beams as he closes the final stall gate and hangs the lead rope up for Quincy. “I’ll come back and add their name plates tomorrow.”
Matthew got the names of these new additions before he placed the order for the plates.
He’ll have to place another order once the second foal due is born, but until then, I painted a small scrap of wood with the name Pluto on it and popped it up next to his Momma’s on her stall.
“You still want to check out the trail?” he asks, grabbing the shovel and scooping up the few piles of dung dropped as we brought them through, and tossing it into the wheelbarrow to take out later.
“If you’ve got other stuff you need to do, I can just go,” I say.
“Nope, I’m all yours for as long as you want me,” he says, and I love the way his cheeks blush a little pink when he says it. No. Stop. Stay professional here. This is work.
“Umm, I’ll meet you by the start. I’ll just grab the tablet from the house.”
“Sure thing, boss,” he says, jogging out of the stables, and I watch his ass pick up in perfect rounds with every step. Fuck, for a city guy, he sure does look great in a pair of stone-washed jeans.
I grab the tablet and I’m surprised to find he’s holding the two scythes when I meet him.
“I thought you might want to just plot the way this afternoon,” I say, and he scrunches up his nose.
“No way. The sooner we get this thing cleared, the sooner you can teach me how to ride on it.”
“You never give up, do you?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“My father always says, the only way you fail is if you quit trying.”
“Sounds like a smart man,” I reply as we set out along the freshly cleared path.
Perry’s made a start, cutting down one of the trees we couldn’t work around, and he’s had the mini dozer out here this morning too.
While we were putting the horses away, he was digging out the top layer of grass, following along where we’d cut the day prior.
He’s done a good job of it, turning the soil over and leveling it out with the wheels and scoop where he could.
With a good layer of gravel on it, tapped down, we might actually end up with a half-decent trail before long.
“If we continue up this way, we’ll come out just on the other side of your trailer,” Matthew says as he starts cutting the long grass down in that direction.
“Not sure Dean wants the trail running too close to my neck of the woods,” I reply, and he stops and turns, a fresh glow on his cheeks.
“Right, ’cause you… like your freedom,” he says with that cheeky grin.
“I like being naked, if that’s what you mean,” I say, somehow finding the confidence I lacked earlier. “You should try it sometime. You might like it.”
“I’ll think about it,” he says, then turns back and starts cutting the other way. “How about we go up this way for another five minutes, then we’ll start cutting around? That should give you enough clearance to make sure you’re not spotted by the guests in nothing but your birthday suit.”
“I’ll be the one leading them most of the time, but just in case one of the other guys is, you might want to make it ten minutes before we turn in.”
“You got it, boss,” he replies, and I mark the direction of the trail we’re taking on the tablet and then start cutting in on the other side behind him. After almost ten minutes of cutting up the hill, Matthew stops at the top where the trees seem to clear out.
“Wow,” he says, staring ahead, his scythe propped beside him like a flag of victory at the top of the hill. “You gotta come see this.”
I cut down a few more feet to catch up and lower my scythe to the ground before taking those last few steps up to him.
Stretched out before us, the land dips into Beaker Valley, one of the most beautiful sights you will ever see.
And while we had to weave through scattered trees to get up this hill, this side drops off more sharply than I remember it and is covered in thick grass with tiny yellow flowers spotted throughout.
“You don’t get a view like that in the city,” I say, and Matthew turns toward me, only he turns the scythe in his hand at the same time, and I duck as it narrowly misses the top of my head.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he gasps, lowering the scythe slowly as if it’s a bomb that might explode in his hand. My heart is beating a million miles a minute, but then I notice his hands shaking and the almost green tint to his complexion.
“I’m okay, you gotta be quicker than that to take me out,” I laugh, trying to ease his mind.
“That was too close. I can’t believe I was that stupid. I could have killed you,” he says, wringing his fingers in front of him, his hazel eyes glistening like fine glitter as they look everywhere but at me.
“Really, I’m fine,” I say, reaching out and closing my hands over his. “Those things aren’t sharp enough to take my head off. I would probably have needed a few stitches, but it’s okay, I’m fine.” I’m lying. They might look rusty, but they are super fucking sharp.
His desperate gaze finally settles on mine.
“Breathe,” I tell him, giving his hands a light squeeze.
He takes a long breath in and blows it out slowly.
The sun throws rays of warm light across his face, illuminating the spattering of tiny freckles across his nose and cheeks.
I’m so close I could almost count them. The breeze kicks up, swirling the sweet scent of the flowers around us, and I feel myself leaning toward him.
My gaze dips to his pink lips, and as though right on cue, his tongue peeks out, sweeping over his lower lip, making it look even more delicious.
If I closed the gap between us and kissed him again, would he pull away?
Would he kiss me back? Would my body recoil under his touch as it has under every other guy I’ve tried to be with, or would it be different, warm, right?
“Thank you. I think I’m okay now.” He sighs, and I’m jolted out of my thoughts. I let him go and turn to face the valley. The sky is starting to turn a soft pink as the sun sets, threatening to steal the bright light away.
“I think this ridge is the perfect direction to take the trail. It’s amazing, don’t you think?” I ask.
“Yeah, it is,” he replies, but when I catch sight of him out of the corner of my eye, he isn’t looking at the valley or the sky ahead, he’s looking at me.