Chapter Ten
Caine
I don’t know what to do. I’m irritated as fuck! Pissed off at the world. Maybe I’m just pissed at myself. God knows I am! I fucked up and don’t know what to do about it.
And to top off the shit-cream-cone I have in my hands, I really believe my new riders have no clue or no care for their own personal safety.
They are fucking everything up and are close to getting hurt in the process.
I don’t mean a bruise either; I mean someone is going to break their leg or arm, hand or worse, their neck!
“Get off your goddamn ass!” I yell at Jason for the fifth time today.
The fucker is so hungover, he can’t hold on to save his goddamn life! This time out of the chute, he was on Vixen for two fucking seconds before he fell on his ass.
“Sorry, Caine,” he sputters as he wipes off his butt, standing up.
“I want each of you to sit your asses down, now,” I tell the guys after I take a deep breath to calm down.
I wait as the four man-boys sit on the benches outside the barn.
I don’t know how to get them to take this shit seriously.
I really want to avoid having one of them hurt themselves just to get them to realize how dangerous this sport is.
But unfortunately, the once seriously promising bronc riders have been showing up smelling of booze.
“I don’t think you guys have an appreciation for how serious this sport is. It’s one of the most dangerous sports in a rodeo. And that’s when people are taking their shit seriously,” I warn as I pace in front of them.
Jason smirks, the cocky son of a bitch.
“You know what, you little shit, get the fuck off my ranch. You don’t have any respect for me or my horses; you can get your ass in your car and fuck right off!” I yell, pointing my finger at him.
Jason’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down in agitation. “You can’t be serious. I’m the best bronc rider here.”
“No, you were. And that’s what makes this so sad.
You were a promising student, but pussy and alcohol seem to have gone to your head.
But let me tell you something… if you lose and make a shit of yourself out of the chute, no one is gonna want to fuck you.
And if you end up breaking your legs, or worse, your neck because you’re being sloppy, I can guarantee everything will end,” I tell him, not pulling my punches.
“You wouldn’t cut me with Lone Star coming up.”
“And why wouldn’t I? You think my financial success, or that of my ranch depends on you?
Let me tell you, it doesn’t,” I explain plainly, my arms crossed over my chest. “Do you even want to win? You can’t even keep a grip on the reins,” I retort.
“And Jason isn’t the only one fucking up.
Weston is the only one that doesn’t smell like ass today. ”
Kevin scowls at me, his face covered in mud, his dirty blonde hair actually dirty from all the mud caked in his hair.
And Sawyer, Jason’s younger brother, is starting to learn his brother’s bad habits. But to my surprise, he lifts his chin and regards me with worried green eyes.
“I’m sorry, Caine. I’ll do better,” he says with a firm nod.
“Me too,” says Kevin.
“I’ll do better too,” says Jerod.
We all turn and look at Jason.
“I won’t have you drag them all down, Jason. This is your last warning. I won’t have you breaking your neck on my watch,” I warn him. My tone leaves no room for argument.
“Yes, sir. I understand,” he says. But the twist of his mouth leaves me feeling extremely distrustful.
“I expect you all here well rested and sober tomorrow,” I tell them. “Am I clear?”
I walk away, heading home for the day. I’ve been up since five AM, and I’m done. I’m just done. But I sigh heavily when I find my mother sitting on the porch swing at my house.
“Hi, Mama,” I say as I approach.
Yes, I’m wary. My mother, unlike my father, is adept at getting me to talk. And I was raised to respect my mother. Plus, the woman put up with so much of my shit as a kid, she’s earned my respect and trust.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she says as she stands and pulls me in for a hug. My mother isn’t exactly short, but she isn’t exactly tall either. I have to bend to hug her the way she expects. I’m a dirty, smelly mess, but Whitney Montgomery doesn’t seem to mind. She never has.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask as I walk to the porch-swing she just vacated. She pats my knee as she sits down beside me.
“You’re coming over for dinner,” she tells me.
“Am I?” I ask, raising a brow at her.
My mother just nods and smiles. “You are. And then you’re going to tell me about this girl that has you so sour.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t sass me. You aren’t this surly by nature. You’re certainly not my most joyful child, but not everyone can be as happy-go-lucky as Pat.”
“Mama, I promise it will eventually pass,” I tell her, hoping against hope that I’m not lying.
“What’s going on?” she asks, clearly not waiting until dinner.
Oh, I’m still expected to go, but she’s clearly impatient for information.
“I met a girl at a restaurant,” I explain.
“Look, Hugh, now he’s scandalizing our mother with his shenanigans,” my brother Lance says as he and my brother Hugh approach.
Lance and I look the most alike, though his hair is the same dark brown as Patrick’s.
Hugh, on the other hand, favors my mother. He has our black hair, but that’s pretty much where our resemblance ends.
“Who asked you for your opinion?” my mother asks my brothers, scowling at them.
“Sorry, Mama,” Lance says, frowning.
“Can we just talk about this later?” I ask. “I need to shower before heading over to the main house.”
My mother frowns, but nods. I can only hope she understands. “Fine, but this conversation is merely paused,” she warns me.
I kiss her temple after we both stand. She laces her arms through both my brothers’ and takes them with her.
My home is comfortable, built to last, and definitely has room to expand. I didn’t build more than I needed, and since it’s just me, I keep it simple, though my room is large, with floor to ceiling windows that face east. I love the morning light.
My bathroom has a large, jetted tub and a separate shower with a rainfall showerhead and a massager to help with my aches.
I’m not gonna lie. The years of bronc riding were a blast, but riding was hell on my body.
I’m not a young man anymore and my back and neck feel the pain the most by the end of the day.
I’m not exactly the kind of man who sits on his ass either.
My job is very labor-intensive. If my father’s appearance at seventy is any indication, ranching is hard work but keeps a man strong and lean.
I quickly shower and change before I make my way out the back to the main house.
“Look who decided to grace us with his presence,” my sister says as I walk into the kitchen.
Tiffany is… well, she’s my only sister, and therefore my brotherly instincts have always been high when it comes to her. Her dark brown hair is swept up in a messy bun; her face is clean of makeup, yet she’s glowing.
“Where’s Millie?” I ask before darting behind the kitchen island and hiding.
A giggle welcomes me as I crawl on the floor toward my niece. Millie is Tiffany at four years old. Bright, full of laughter and joy, my niece is special. And like her mama, the only female of an all-male lot.
Hugh has two boys with his wife Gretchen, and Tiffany has another child, a six-year-old named Jax, with her husband Randal.
I grunt when Millie jumps onto my back from behind and giggles when I try to buck her off.
“Look mommy! I’m a bronc rider!” she laughs as she holds on tight to the collar of my shirt.
“I’m not a horse! I’m the tickle monster!” I cry out as I turn around, grab her from my back and wrestle her to the ground and tickle her tummy.
“No!” she yells, her face turning red as she tries to wiggle away.
“Uncle Caine, tickle me!” yells Connor, Hugh’s youngest.
I grab him and begin tickling him as Jax and Millie jump on my back. I feign an injury and fall to the ground. “I’m down, you got me!” I croak.
After a few moments, the kids jump up and run to the playroom beside the kitchen. I kiss my sister and shake my brother-in-law’s hand.
“Mom warn you about dinner?” Tiffany asks when I open the fridge and grab a beer.
I quirk a brow. “Warn me?”
“I’ll take that as a no,” Tiffany says. Then she laughs.
I turn around at the sound of the doorbell, dread in my gut at what I’m now thinking is a setup.
I look at Lance, who hollers, “Not it!”
Fucker!
“Kendra,” my mom says when she answers the door. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
Well fuck!
My eyes narrow at my father. He chuckles as he walks past me to the dining room. The dining room is where my mother hosts guests; the kitchen table is where we have family dinners, but now that I’m looking around, I see that the kitchen table doesn’t have a single plate on it. I’ve been bulldozed!
A pretty, tall woman with shoulder-length blonde hair walks into the kitchen. Like I said, she’s pretty, but I find myself comparing her to the curvy little thing I met two months ago.
God dammit! Two months and I’m hung up on a woman I’ll never see again. But I can’t manufacture attraction, and while this woman is likely a lovely person, I can’t find an inch of desire when I look at her.
“This is my son, Caine,” my mother says by way of introduction.
“Hi,” I retort, not knowing what else to say.
“Caine, this is Kendra. She’s a teacher at Jackson High School, the private school in town,” my mother says.
I smile politely.
“How long have you been teaching?” my sister asks, saving me.
“Thank you,” I whisper to her as I walk away.
I see the frown on my mother’s face as I make my way into the dining room. My father is setting the table for dinner, placing glasses by everyone’s plates.
“Want some help?”
He chuckles. “That didn’t take long,” he says, still laughing. “Grab the water pitcher from the hutch.” He uses his chin to point to the China hutch against the far wall.
“You could have warned me,” I grumble with annoyance.
I walk to the wet bar and fill the pitcher with ice and water before placing it in the center of the table.
“And have you come up with a reason for not showing up? I like my place in my bed, thank you very much,” my dad says, shaking his head at me.
Well, that was gross. There are definitely things I don’t need to know about my parents, and that’s one of them.
Once the table is set, and everyone is seated, we begin to eat dinner.
“Caine, did you know that Kendra teaches AP Algebra?” my mom asks as I pass her the potatoes au gratin.
Why would I know that? I think to myself, but have the presence of mind not to say out loud.
My mother pulled out all the stops tonight, making all my favorites. Prime rib roast, gravy, green beans and homemade Caesar salad.
As my mom sings Kendra’s praises, the poor woman looks mortified. I feel bad for her, and she clearly feels bad for me.
“I didn’t know that,” I reply. “Do you like teaching high schoolers?” I can be polite. I’m not always an asshole… just most of the time.
“The AP classes tend to be more serious students. But high school is tough. Kids deal with a lot at that age,” she replies thoughtfully.
At one time I may have been interested in Kendra. She’s very eloquent and sweet. But there’s no spark between us.
“Caine teaches high schoolers too,” my mother adds, as though what I do is in any way similar to Kendra.
“Mama, how did you and Kendra meet?” I ask, trying to take the attention off me.
“We met at the grocery store about two months ago. I’ve been playing bridge with her mother for years but had never met Kendra. It was a happy coincidence to see her at the market today,” my mother says.
I don’t buy a word of what she’s saying. I’d bet my left nut Kendra’s mother called my mom and told her to go to the market. Coincidence, my ass.
After everyone finishes eating, I stand to help collect all the dishes and put them in the washer. As I scrape off the food into the trash, Kendra walks in with a few more dishes.
“Would it make this less weird if I told you I just broke up with my boyfriend and have no interest in dating right now?” she asks hurriedly. “Really, I thought this was just a dinner with your mom and sister,” Kendra adds.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her as I place the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. “I’m just in a weird place.”
“Caine, really, I’m serious. I really just broke up with my boyfriend last night. I’m not interested in you. I mean, I’m sure you’re great,” she says, holding her hands up.
“I’ve been single for a while,” I explain. “I think my parents think I’m gonna die alone.” I shrug my shoulder in resignation.
“I’m very familiar with that,” Kendra says with a half-smile.
“My ex and I were together for five years. I finally ended it because I knew he’d never propose.
Relationships are… well, they’re complicated.
And less than twenty-four hours single, my mother is already trying to find me someone new,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“I will say you probably should have dumped his ass four years ago. Five years is a long time to wait.”
Kendra’s eyes begin to mist, and I feel like an ass for saying anything.
“He’s the ass, not you.” I say, trying again.
“Thanks. I appreciate the sentiment,” she replies with a chuckle. She runs a hand through her hair and looks at me ruefully. “Would you mind letting your mom know I had to go? I think if I stay, she might continue to push this, and honestly, I’m not ready to date anyone right now.”
I nod and walk Kendra to the front door. Now that it’s established that neither one of us is interested in the other, I can relax and let my guard down.
“Have a good night,” I tell her as she walks out.
“What happened?” my mom asks when I walk back into the kitchen. Her mouth hangs open in shock as she regards me.
“She wanted to leave. Come on, Mama, you know I’m no good with setups and she just got out of a long-term thing—a five-year relationship. I’m no one’s rebound.” I raise a brow.
My mother walks over to me and grabs my hand, pulling me to the living room for privacy. We sit on the loveseat, and my mom turns and regards me with unbridled sadness.
“Tell me about her.” My mother pats my thigh.
“There’s nothing to tell. I met a woman, and well, I didn’t get her number,” I explain with frustration.
“So go back and get it.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “She isn’t from here; she was driving through town,” I explain. “I lost my chance,” I add. I sit back and cover my face. “I can’t shake it, Mama. I’m so annoyed with myself.”
“Oh, honey.”
But she doesn’t offer me any words. I just sit beside my mother, festering in my frustration.