SEBASTIAN #2
My brother smiles. “Yeah, better than the one down in Florida. Don’t tell them I said this, but I think Ryan and Antony are right, I need to keep my head in the game.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “Wow. That’s a turn around.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too excited, I’m not about to stop partying or anything like that, but I do see the benefits of keeping a clear head for a contest. Afterwards is another matter though. Turns out, chicks love it when you win a surfing contest. I had them lining up to give me their numbers.”
I suppress an eyeroll. “As long as you’re being safe.”
Tucker snorts. “What do you take me for? I’m not as stupid as Ryan or Antony.”
After lunch, we head to the ranch to view potential horses. While I talk to the owner, Tucker wanders around.
“How come you’re selling?” I ask the guy named Eric.
He smiles back sadly. “Business isn’t as good as it used to be. Not a lot of folks want to go riding these days.”
I glance around. The ranch isn’t bad. It’s run down and needs some T.L.C, but it’s in a good area. I could make things work here. But, when I checked out the place online before coming, I saw the prices were higher than typical, and he doesn’t offer anything special that other ranches don’t.
“I’d hate to see a hard-working guy go out of business. I could give you some pointers, if you like?”
Eric scoffs at my offer. “I’ve been in this business for twenty years; I don’t need advice from some Yankee kid who's probably never even ridden a horse. Are you interested in buying or not?”
I don’t rise to his taunts, and instead ask, “I’d like to look around first, please?”
He leads me to the stable, and as I pass Tucker, my younger brother gives me a meaningful glance. I nod subtly and follow Eric into the building.
Inside the stable is as run down as the rest of the ranch, and it smells terrible. As I take a closer look at one of the horses, I see it’s got the tell-tale raised, mottled lumps of equine skin disease.
“Sir, have these animals seen a vet?”
“I studied equine health. I know how to look after them.”
Knowing I won’t get anywhere with this guy, I say, “My apologies. My mistake. I just need to quickly speak to my brother. I’ll be back shortly.”
I leave the stable before Eric can argue and make a beeline for Tucker.
“Seb, I know I haven’t got your experience with horses, but I get bad vibes from this place. The stable stank, and the horses didn't look well. Plus, there’s some suspicious black liquid oozing from that shed over there.”
I glance in the direction Tucker is pointing, and sure enough, a tar-like substance is leaking from under the shed door, and onto the floor.
I’ve seen enough.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I say, turning towards Tucker’s car, just as Eric comes out of the shed.
“So, are you interested?” he calls.
“Sorry, there’s been a family emergency. I’ll be back later,” I reply, then get into Tucker’s car. “Drive,” I tell my brother.
“Why did you tell him you’ll be back later?” Tucker asks, as we leave the ranch.
“Because I don’t want that guy realizing we’re onto him and hiding any evidence before animal welfare gets here. You’re right, something was wrong here.”
I pull out my phone and call animal welfare, giving them all my details and ranch registration number, so they know I'm legitimate and experienced. They promise to send an officer to Eric’s ranch immediately.
“I hope they get those animals out of there, and get them the help they need,” I say, as I slide my phone back into my pants pocket.
“Yeah, that guy was as dodgy as anything,” Tucker agrees as we make our way back to the hotel.
“Well, at least I won’t have to figure out how to bring a horse back,” I say, when we get to the hotel and head up to Tucker’s room.
“What are you going to do about a replacement for Shadowfax?” my brother asks, sitting down on his King Size bed.
I drop into the chair in front of the desk. “I saw a promising five-year-old roan gelding called Chester at a ranch in Southampton. I’m going to give the owner a call now and let him know I’ll take the horse when I get back.”
I call Corey from the ranch in Southampton, and he’s more than happy to sell Chester to me when I arrive back in the Hamptons in a few days.
After I hang up, Tucker asks, “So, what do we do now? Feel like hitting a bar or something?”
“Actually, I was thinking we could get on the road. The sooner we leave, the sooner we’re home.”
Tucker groans. “Party pooper.”
“Unlike you, I have a business to run. And I promised I’d be back in time for Lana’s gallery opening.”
My brother rolls his eyes. “God, you sound like Ryan and Antony. When did you get so old?”
I know Tucker’s game. He’s bored and frustrated, so he’s trying to bait me into an argument. Years ago, it would have worked, too, but I’ve grown up since then.
Instead of giving into his taunts, I say, “I’m sure Josh will go drinking with you when we get home.”
While I try to keep the peace between Ryan and Antony, and Tucker, my younger brother Joshua tends to lean more towards Tucker’s size.
It makes sense, they’re the closest in age, with only two years between them.
And, unlike Ryan and Antony who remember how our parents struggled to make ends meet when they were trying to get the resort off the ground, all me, Joshua and Tucker remember is living comfortably, and our parents indulging our passions.
It’s just a shame they died when Tucker was sixteen, so they weren’t around to see him graduate High School and keep him on the straight and narrow afterwards like they had done with me and Joshua.
Knowing I'm not going to give in, Tucker backs down, and we check out of the hotel. Before leaving Charlotte, we stock up on snacks, energy drinks and coffee to prepare us for the long drive ahead.
The journey is over eleven hours, so we’ve agreed to take it in turns driving, while the other rests. Tucker offers to drive first, so I grab a travel pillow, and try to get some sleep, but I can’t turn off my thoughts.
What if Lana does have a secret estranged husband or something? I wonder. It would explain why she keeps rushing off, and why she hasn’t told me about her time in New York. But then I ask myself, would Lana really start something with me again while she was still married?
The old Lana wouldn’t, but it’s been five years, and now I’m not as sure anymore.