6. Beau
Beau
Colt, our fishing and trail guide, wasn’t a fan of offices. Or the indoors, really. Which was why our planning meeting for this group’s trail ride was taking place on the banks of Snow Creek at five fucking a.m.
Excuse my French, I only had the one cup of coffee.
Thankfully, Jake and our youngest hand, Miguel, were there, suffering with me.
I really shouldn’t complain. After all, I was standing here with a fishing pole in hand, hanging out with people I genuinely enjoyed, planning one of my favorite events.
I loved going on the trail rides. Even though we always kept to more or less the same route, it was the people who made the ride, and they were always different.
The fact that Clark and River were going to be on this trail ride with us made it even more intriguing.
“Beau? Did you hear me?” Colt asked. Maybe not for the first time.
“Yeah. Uh…”
“I’ll be carrying one of the new satellite phones on this trip,” he repeated, raising his brow at me.
“Sorry. Got it. Satellite phone.” I blinked and yawned at the same time, which is more difficult than it sounds. “Maybe I’ll take some more of that coffee of yours.”
Like any trail guide worth his salt, Colt always had a thermos of coffee that could double as paint stripper.
“Sure, but first … who would be going over the footbridge this time of morning?”
I turned and saw a figure in black making his way over the bridge, the early morning fog swirling around him like a romance novel. The big family with all the children had arrived last night, but this wasn’t any of them. I recognized that uneven gait.
Shoving my pole into the bank, I elbowed Miguel. “Hey, I’m gonna check on that guy over there. Can you watch my rod?”
Miguel snickered, pulling his long, sun-bronzed hair into a messy ponytail. He had a laid-back style and a wicked sense of humor and had quickly become my right-hand guy in his year or so on the ranch.
“My fishing rod, you perv.”
“Sure,” Miguel tossed back. He lifted his chin. “Who’s that?”
“Pretty sure that’s River,” Jake answered. “The depressed son of that CEO guy from Chicago Beau’s been mooning over.”
I sent a laser-beam glare to my good friend.
“You’re especially sassy this morning,” I hissed. “And ‘that CEO guy’ is Clark.”
Jake winked. “Tell your new stepson we said hi,” he said, laughing at his own joke.
“Jackass.”
“You love me.”
I waved him off with my middle finger.
River made good time with his walking stick and was already crossing the main road to the barn by the time I jogged over.
He hadn’t yet seen me in the pre-dawn darkness, so I watched for a moment, just to see what he would do.
He reached for the door and jiggled it, then seemed disappointed that it was locked.
“Wanna hang out with the horses?” I asked.
River stumbled back, clutching his chest like I’d given him a heart attack. I probably could’ve done a better job of announcing myself.
“Jesus, Beau. You scared the shit out of me!” he snapped.
I held up my hands. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You’re like that guy who killed Pedro Pascal in Game of Thrones,” he complained, shaking out his arms. “They need to put a bell on you.”
Not the first time someone had compared me to The Mountain.
“Again, apologies. We don’t normally let the guests wander the property before business hours.”
“Sorry,” he said, not sorry at all.
“Besides, I figured you for the type to sleep in.”
He ruffled his dark hair; the set of his shoulders stiff. “Yeah, me too. But I slept for shit last night and the Wi-Fi in our cabin sucks.”
“Oh no. A tragedy,” I said, leaning into the snark. “Whatever will you do without access to social media?”
He managed to look offended. “I don’t do social media. I run a Twitch stream. I could’ve been playing online with my friends.”
Sounded like social media to me, but what did I know?
“I don’t know what any of that means, but I’ll have one of our guys get out and check the Wi-Fi router at your place.”
He curled his lip. “I’ve already restarted it. Twice.”
Poor little prince. I bet Daddy’s condo in Chicago never has Wi-Fi problems.
Instead of that uncaffeinated and ungenerous sentiment, I went with a gentle reminder. “Our Wi-Fi isn’t the best, but we do try to encourage our guests to disconnect and enjoy the natural beauty of the area.”
River gestured to the darkness around us with his stick. “Which I’m happy to do in the daylight.”
Dramatic.
Honestly, I kinda liked that he was giving me lip. He’d been through a lot but still managed to find his spleen.
“I’ll see if we can find someone to take a look.”
“Thanks,” he said, running the tip of his stick through the dirt.
Rather than agitate him further, I figured I should encourage his curiosity.
“Do you want to check on the horses with me?” I asked, swinging the keychain around my finger.
He shrugged, still looking at the ground, acting like he didn’t care either way. “Sure. Why not?”
I unlocked the barn door and led us inside, where the safety lights provided enough illumination for walking around. Betty was up early, so I went to her first. River followed.
“Hi, Betty,” he said, leaning on his stick as he carefully held out his hand.
She sniffed at his palm.
“Tickles,” he murmured.
I went to our stash of apples. Pulling my folding knife from my front pocket, I cut one into quarters.
“Here,” I said, giving him a slice. “Put it flat on your palm and offer it to her.”
Taking the piece of apple, he did just as I instructed, holding it out to her on a flat palm. She took the apple carefully from him and crunched it with her big teeth. His smile widened.
“She’s so gentle,” he noted.
“She’s a good one, Ms. Betty is. A little sassy, but never mean.”
“Like me,” he said, then seemed surprised that he had made a joke.
“Exactly like you.”
He sent me a dark scowl, but I didn’t believe him. I gave him the rest of the apple, and he slowly fed the sections to her, enjoying the moment.
“You mind keeping her company while I go check the other stalls?”
“Sure.”
We had hands who took care of the stalls, and I knew they would be clean, and that all the horses would be comfortable and happy. But something told me that River needed space as much as anything else. Just a place to simply … be.
By the time I made my way around to all the horses, morning light was starting to filter through. God rays bouncing around the place.
When I went to check on Betty and River, I stopped in my tracks.
River was hugging Betty. And crying, I think.
I slipped my phone out of my back pocket and took a picture. I didn’t quite know why, but it felt like I should, with the lighting and the beauty of the moment, capture it somehow.
I pulled up Clark’s phone number and texted the photograph to him. Then grimaced. River might not have liked getting photographed in a vulnerable moment.
Clark: Is that River?
Me: Yeah. I think he’s made a friend.
Clark sent me the emoji that has the crying eyes and the smiling mouth, which I was pretty sure was a good thing. It was probably fine that I’d sent that over. I put my phone away as I went to the entrance of the stall.
“You wanna help me and Miguel set up the rope swing for the river today?”
River startled and pulled back from Betty, surreptitiously wiping his tears. “We really do need to put a bell on you.”
Shit.
“Sorry. Never thought of myself as stealthy,” I said, gesturing at myself.
He refocused on Betty, running his hand down her mane. “I kinda like this horse.”
“She’s pretty cool. If you don’t mind, though, I’ll probably have your dad on her for the trail ride.”
He made a sound almost like a laugh. “Yeah, we need a beginner horse for him.”
Grateful that I hadn’t run him off by startling him twice this morning, I repeated my question from earlier. “We’re gonna replace the rope swing after everyone’s breakfast settles this morning. Are you down for that?”
“Sure. You said you needed help?”
I nodded. “Miguel will be doing the climbing, thank God, but we need a few brave testers.”
River’s mouth seemed not to know whether it wanted to smile or frown. “Who says I’m brave?”
“You don’t hafta be brave. Stupid works just fine.”
He shot me the bird. “Meet you after breakfast?”
“Yep.”
I felt responsible for what was happening right in front of me.
It wasn’t anything bad.
But it was something.
After breakfast, which Clark skipped, River, Miguel, and I went out to the tree that sat above the one area of the creek deep enough for a rope swing.
River had been his usual wordless self over breakfast, while Miguel had been going a mile a minute about all the preparations he and Colt were making for the trail ride.
River seemed to be tuning out Miguel. That facade cracked the second Miguel began climbing the tree.
Now, Miguel was a real good-looking guy with a unique sense of style, and he could climb anything with the barest hint of a place to grip. He made his way up the tree in seconds and was out on the branch, untying the rope just a few moments later.
River was enthralled. I doubt he’d ever admit to it, but just about every thirty seconds, his eyes went to Miguel’s ass. Or the artfully messy hair piled on top of his head. Or his sun-kissed abs, once the T-shirt came off.
Sadly, this wasn’t a one-sided attraction.
Miguel was definitely interested. He seemed fascinated by River’s dark aesthetic and was eager to include him in everything. Asked him to hand him the rope, explained the kind of knot he was using, and told him about the one time I broke the rope.
“Do you want to be the first to test it out?” Miguel called down from the tree branch.
“Who, me?” River asked as though he didn’t understand what we were doing.
Oh my God. These boys were so cute.
“Sure. I’d like to test it out with somebody a little lighter before we have The Mountain give it the full test.”
“Don’t call me that,” I grumped.
Miguel ignored me, sending a worried glance to River. “Can you do the rope swing? Like, with your hip or whatever?”
“I can do anything.” River gripped his walking stick and bent over, untying his combat boots with a confident grin. “I just might do it with a limp.”
Was that… innuendo? Fuck me.
A few moments later, River was standing barefoot in his shorts, pale and beautiful, like some sort of fae prince. Miguel looked like he was about to fall out of that tree.
River tapped his stick, awkward. “Are we going to test this thing out or what?” he finally asked.
“Oh, right.”
Miguel shook his head as if to wake himself up and threw down the rope.
River grabbed it and then looked at me. “So … what am I supposed to do with this?”
I led him to the side of the creek, where it had a bit of a drop-off. “You grab the rope, hang on for dear life, and fling yourself off the side.” I took his stick from him. “Just make sure to let go before you start swinging back.”
“Got it,” he said, grabbing the rope and taking off at a loping run.
Dammit. Shoulda known he was gonna show off.
Thankfully, River had a good grip, and Miguel had done his job of tying the rope. But River seemed to have forgotten a pretty important detail.
He started swinging back to us, and his eyes went wide.
“Let go!” Miguel shouted.
River startled and let go of the rope, crashing down into the water. Normally, a kid’ll give some sort of whoop or something, but River was silent.
Miguel jumped from the branch into the water. He got his arms around River and hauled him to the bank.
“You okay, dude?” he asked, his wet hair stuck to his neck and chest.
River blinked a few times, then looked into Miguel’s eyes, his eyelashes spiky with water. “That was a lot of fun,” he said, leaning into Miguel’s hold.
Laying it on a little thick there, buddy.
“You sure about that?” Miguel asked, examining him. “You’re not hurt?”
River’s permanent smirk somehow widened into a broad smile. “I can’t wait to get my dad on this.”