5. Holden
HOLDEN
The moment I step outside, I breathe deeply. Feels like the first time I’ve been able to since walking into the kitchen. “This way,” I say, already moving.
I don’t want to be stuck looking after Sage, but I can’t argue with Dad’s logic. He’s right. I haven’t been around much. They can spare me.
I’m twenty yards from the house before I realize I’m alone. In my rush to get this over with, my rapid strides have left Sage behind.
As tempting as it is to just keep going, I can’t bring myself to do it. Slowing my pace, I allow her to catch up.
“Before I forget,” she says a little breathlessly, “can you give me the phone number for the mechanic so I can check on my car?”
Maybe she’s hoping to get out of this situation as much as I am.
“I left a message for him last night. He’ll let me know once he’s had a chance to check it out.” Before she can respond, I point out our destination. “Down here are the barns and training corrals.”
Her huff is barely audible.
Glad I’m annoying her as much as she’s annoying me.
She bounces back quickly. “So that’s where you keep the horses?”
I tilt my head toward the distant meadows where the main herd is grazing. “Most of them are kept out at pasture.”
I keep walking, but I know the second she lifts her camera. Something about the quiet pause. Like when she took that photo from the front of the house. The stillness about her as she looked through the viewfinder drew me in.
For a moment, she seemed grounded in this place in a way I hadn’t felt for a long time.
Even now, the loose tendrils of hair fluttering in the slight breeze are the only things about her that move.
The click of the shutter breaks the spell, and she’s moving again.
“How many horses do you have?” she asks as she catches up.
“Around a hundred and fifty.”
“Is that a lot?”
I shrug. “We’ve got breeding stock as well as horses we’re training for the new riding program. We also board up to ten at a time. Their owners leave them with us for breaking and training.”
We come to a stop at the fence of the nearest round pen, where my second-oldest brother, Chance, is working one of the new colts on a long line.
“Pretty,” she says.
I’m not sure whether she’s talking about the glossy chestnut trotting in steady circles or my brother.
When she raises her camera again, I barely refrain from rolling my eyes. Chance would be more than happy to have his photo taken. Hell, not too long ago, I wouldn’t have minded either. I’ve had more photos taken of me during my career than I can count.
It’s those last ones that are stuck in my head.
So yeah, I have no interest in having her lens pointed at me.
She lets the camera drop against her chest and tucks her hair behind her ear. “You said breeding stock. What sort of horses do you breed?”
“Are you a photographer or a reporter?”
She angles her head to the side and gives me a too-bright smile. “A curious photographer.”
That pretty smile. It pricks at me. I know it’s at my expense, but it’s still damn hard to look away from.
I rest an arm on the top of the fence. “Wild Ember breeds Quarter Horses. Our program is getting up there with the best in the nation.”
She tilts her head. “Really? That’s impressive.”
I nod. There’s no denying it; my family has been doing great things with the ranch.
“And you have cows too, right?”
Cows? I swear I twitch. “You mean cattle.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Cows are females that have had at least one calf. Heifers are young females that haven’t had a calf yet. Steers are castrated males. I’m sure you know what a bull is.”
She props her shoulder against the fence and crosses her arms. “Why, yes, Holden. I do know what a bull is.”
Her tart tone has me swallowing an unexpected chuckle. To hide it, I gesture in the direction of the far pasture. “To answer your original question, we run a mixed herd of Angus-cross cattle.”
She looks that way, but from here, there’s nothing to see.
“Will guests get to go on a roundup?” she asks.
The idea still rubs me the wrong way, but there’s no point bringing that up with her. “Yeah. In the summer, when they bring the herd up into the high country for grazing. And in the fall, when they round them up and bring them back down again.”
Unwilling to continue talking about the expansion, I call out to my brother. “Got a minute, Chance?”
His attention shifts to us and he nods. “Yep. Grady, come take over for me.”
Grady, one of our wranglers, hops the fence and jogs to the middle of the corral. Once he’s taken hold of the long line, Chance saunters over.
When he reaches us, he takes off his hat and wipes the sweat from his brow with his forearm. His lips are curved in the smile he reserves for pretty women, full of the easy confidence of a man who’s never had much reason to doubt his appeal.
It makes me grit my teeth. “This is Sage.”
“Howdy there, ma’am,” he drawls.
“Cut it out,” I grumble. “She’s not a tourist for you to charm. She’ll be working here for the next few months.”
His gaze flicks to me, amusement deepening his grin. “Lucky us.”
He’s enjoying this far too much.
Sage’s smile is sunny and open as she holds out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Chance keeps hold of her a little longer than necessary, only releasing her when I clear my throat.
“Chance is my brother. He runs the equestrian side of the operation.”
“If you call the best damn horse breeding and training facility in the state of Colorado the equestrian side of the operation.” With that comment, he gives Sage a wink.
I glower at him. Am I really gonna have to warn him against making a move? We have rules in place about that.
Or if we don’t, we should.
“Don’t want to keep you,” I tell him. “Just wanted you to meet Sage. I need to show her around the rest of the place.”
He nods and tips his hat at her, then saunters back to the center of the ring.
I don’t particularly like the way Sage’s smile lingers.
“Let’s keep going,” I growl, leading the way toward the main barn.
“How many McBride brothers and sisters are there, anyway?” she asks.
“Six. Taryn’s the only girl.”
“Wow. I can’t imagine what it’s like having that many siblings running around.”
I glance at her. “How many do you have?”
She shrugs. “It’s just me.”
I digest that in silence. While she can’t imagine what it’s like to be one of six siblings, I can’t imagine not having any. What the hell did she do at home all day when she was growing up?
As we enter the barn, the shade inside is a welcome relief from the already warm sun.
Sage wrinkles her nose. Our barns are fastidiously clean, but there’s no escaping the smell of horses. It’s a scent I’ve lived with all my life, so I barely notice it. She’s probably regretting taking this job already.
Not sure that thought is supposed to cheer me up.
I lead her along the aisle that runs down the middle of the barn. On either side are red-and-white-painted half-doors, each leading to a stall, and most have horse heads poking out over them.
Soft nickers greet us. As usual, the sound relaxes me.
“They’re all so pretty.”
I grimace. “Don’t let Chance hear you call them that.”
At the sound of my voice, a familiar brown head with a wide white blaze appears above a stall door a few strides away. I stop and scratch the crest of her neck. “Hi there, beautiful.”
“Is this your horse?” Sage asks.
“Used to be, before I outgrew her.”
Cozy stretches her head out, pink nose wrinkling.
Sage edges away, her arm brushing mine.
I stop, my hand still up, and examine her. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of horses.”
She freezes, pulling her shoulders back. “Of course not.”
The way she’s eyeing the mare tells me she’s not exactly being honest.
Without stopping to think, I place my hand on her back to steady her the way I would a nervous yearling. Leaning close, I murmur, “Don’t worry, Cozy’s friendly.”
The sweet scent of honeysuckle tickles my senses, and I linger a little longer than I should. When I pull back, Sage takes a shallow breath, and I’m not sure if it’s from nerves or my proximity.
“The closest I came to horses in New York was the police horses and the ones pulling carriages near Central Park.”
A sarcastic comment jumps to the tip of my tongue, but I let it die, my curiosity stronger. “You’ve never been on a horse at all? Patted one?”
She glances my way, but instead of the sassy smile or stubborn defiance I’ve started to expect, there’s an uncertain tilt to her lips. Is this the first time she’s questioned why she thought this job would be a good fit for her?
Stepping behind her, I slide my hand down her arm until I grasp her wrist. Then I guide it toward Cozy. “Hold your hand out flat.”
She does as I say.
“Now let her smell you.”
We hold still like that, and Cozy stretches her nose out again, whiffling it over Sage’s palm.
She twitches against me and lets out a startled giggle. “It tickles.”
I smile for a moment, but it’s gone just as quickly. This isn’t how the tour is supposed to go. Clearing my throat, I release her wrist and step back. “Okay. Let’s keep going.”
She doesn’t move straight away, keeping her hand up for Cozy’s inspection. After a few more seconds, she turns, her expression soft.
It tugs at me, and I don’t like that it does.
I stalk past the rest of the stalls and out the other side of the barn. From here, there’s a prime view of the lower end of the valley.
“The ATV trails for guests will head into those hills.” I point toward the ridgeline. “Hiking and riding trails start just beyond the pony paddock.”
“Okay.” She raises her camera and snaps a few images.
When she lowers it and studies the small display screen, those loose tendrils of hair drift around her cheeks, touched by the breeze.
Irritated with myself for noticing, I head off, determined to wrap up this tour as soon as possible.
There are fences damaged by the storm that I should be out fixing.
“Most of the horse facilities are concentrated down here.” I gesture toward the cluster of barns and corrals. “The foaling barn is farther back, and the indoor arena’s behind that.”