Chapter 40
Chapter forty
Break My Bones
Maverick
Aunt Violet came around quicker than even I’d expected.
Not even two days passed before she was blowing up my phone with baby names and ideas for a shower. Almost a week later and I was convinced Cheyenne would go crazy from all the attention.
“God, your aunt’s relentless,” Cheyenne said, walking into the barn while sliding her phone into the side of her bra. Her spurs clinked against the dirt as she grabbed a halter and headed for the little red filly’s stall.
“What happened?” I asked.
Cheyenne tossed her hands up in the air in frustration, blowing out a loud breath.
The filly snorted, pacing at the back of her stall.
I eyed her for a long moment. Hopefully she calmed down.
The thought of Cheyenne working the baby still was admirable, but unnecessary, and it made me uneasy. So much could happen, none of it good.
Cheyenne didn’t have anything to prove. She didn’t need the money; I was more than capable of providing for all three of us. But she was set on doing this still, and some battles just weren’t worth fighting with her, I’d quickly come to realize.
“She really, really, really likes the name Hyacinth or however the fuck you say it, and no matter how many times I try to explain that I am absolutely not naming my child that, she just doesn’t get it.”
I grimaced as I brushed down my project colt, Blue Zeus. “That is a god-awful name.”
“Right?” Cheyenne pulled the latch on the stall door and slipped inside before closing it behind her. “And it’s not like she has horrible taste because there’s nothing wrong with Cash’s name. And what’s his brother’s name again?”
“True,” I replied, my hand stilling on Zeus’s back as I watched the filly pace some more.
“True. An interesting, unique name…not Hyacinth. And what’s worse?” She glanced at me. “She wants to call her Cinthy for short.”
Cheyenne made her way to the stall, struggling for only a moment to catch the nameless filly. And while the horse didn’t spook or rear or do anything wild and crazy, I didn’t like the tension in her muscles, the position of her ears.
If Cheyenne noticed the filly’s uneasiness, she didn’t let on. Which worried me. She had a way with animals, she really did. She was smart and intuitive and she and the horse seemed to do really well together. But something didn’t feel right.
“She seems a little flighty today. You sure you wanna work her?” I asked.
Cheyenne shrugged. “She seems fine to me.”
I frowned, but Cheyenne knew the horse more than I did at this point. She came out religiously every mid-morning and early evening to work with her. Saddling her, desensitizing her to sounds, materials, environments.
Maybe I was just being overprotective. I felt like I had good reason to, though.
Another week gone and her bump was becoming more pronounced.
I’d never been more attracted to her. But seeing how far along she was and knowing that what she was doing had the potential for disastrous consequences scared the hell out of me.
I bit my tongue. She’s gonna do what she wants to do.
She led the filly outside, disappearing through the barn doors. I heard the hinges creak open on the round pen before creaking closed once more.
I continued brushing Blue Zeus down, telling myself I wouldn’t go out and hover.
This was her deal, her horse. I wanted—no, needed to respect that.
But each moment I spent inside with the blue roan colt sent my heart rate pumping faster and faster.
By the time I put him in his stall, hung his halter, and walked out of the barn, I was pretty sure I might have a damn heart attack.
The dying sun cast the round pen in a sea of burning orange light, bright enough that I still had to shield my eyes even with my sunglasses on.
The filly loped around the arena, snorting and breathing heavily.
Her tail was erect, ears in a position I still wasn’t entirely too happy with, but I didn’t say anything as I took a seat on one of the mounting blocks and watched them.
the filly settled into her warm up, and some of the worry knotted tight in my chest loosened a bit.
Maybe I was just being paranoid. I noticed Cash rolling up the road in the old piece of shit ranch truck he demanded we bring from his parents’ house.
As much as I hated the thing, it had come in handy on numerous occasions—if you could get the thing running.
He seemed to notice us as well, angling the truck over toward the barn.
“Hey! Think you can help me with this damn thing. It’s makin’ some weird ass noises,” he called, leaning damn near half way out of the truck. As he lumbered to a stop, a loud popping noise erupted from it, echoing off the barn and making the plague of Grackles resting in the trees fly away.
The filly’s squeal drew my attention. She galloped around the pen, tossing her head, pinning her ears. Terror clenched me like a vice as she tore straight at Cheyenne. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Cheyenne dodged the horse, climbing up the pipe-stall with swift speed, but it was too close of a call for my taste.
“Get the hell out of the arena!” I bellowed, my heart a panicked staccato reverberating through my ears, my veins, my bones.
I felt the heat of her glare from where I stood. “Excuse me?”
“Get out,” I repeated, my tone unyielding.
To my surprise, she did. “What the fuck is the issue?” she spat, coming to stand before me with a hand on her hip, a defiant look shining in her turquoise gaze.
I couldn’t let her get hurt. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her. “You ain’t workin’ that filly anymore,” I replied, hoping she wouldn’t question the decision.
But that wasn’t the girl I was dating. She was wild and reckless, fury and flame. She was gasoline and the lighter. “Like fuckin’ hell I’m not.”
“Cheyenne, you damn near got trampled just now.” I whirled a hand toward the round pen where the horse still trotted around, snorting and swishing her tail.
She rolled her eyes. “I was fine. It was Cash’s stupid truck. If you’re gonna be mad at anyone, be mad at him.”
I wasn’t mad at either of them, but at the whole situation. At the lack of control I felt over the events that had just unfolded. With a sigh, I said, “I don’t want you workin’ with that horse.” It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Cheyenne, but the filly was a completely different story.
Her lips drew into a scowl, her brows furrowing together. “Why? She’s been fine up until just now.”
I shook my head. So, she hadn’t noticed the horse’s tension earlier. It told me all I needed to know. “The minute you grabbed that horse's halter, she started actin’ funny. Why’d you think I mentioned somethin’ in the barn?”
“Okay, so I missed that. I would hardly say that justifies takin’ my damn horse away.”
“It does when it’s my horse and your actions put you and that baby in danger.”
Her gaze on me narrowed, her eyes blue infernos that held the heat of a thousand suns. Well, shit. If I wanted to piss her off, I’d definitely accomplished that.
“Hey, now y’all. Let’s not fight.” Cash came between us, his voice holding a mocking calmness to it. I knew what he was trying to do, what he so often did with great success, but I wasn’t in the mood for his antics.
“Cash, not now.”
His hazel gaze widened a moment, a look of shock settling around him. With a nod, he walked back to the truck and sat himself in the driver’s seat. Thank fuck, I’d expected more of a fight.
“That’s bullshit,” she snarled at me. “I’ve been workin’ my ass off makin’ progress with this horse and you want me to just stop workin’ her?”
“It’s my horse, Chey.”
Even as I said the words, a part of me knew I was going too far.
But I didn’t know what to do to make her see how foolish this was.
If she was going to be careful, attentive, and smart then fine.
But she’d proven tonight she wasn’t paying enough attention, and all it took was one wrong move, one tiny, little misstep and she and the baby could end up hurt. It wasn’t a risk I was willing to take.
Downright fury blazed from her. “Fine, I’ll buy her from you,” she countered, crossing her arms over her chest.
“She ain’t for sale.”
Cheyenne growled in frustration, throwing her hands down at her sides.
“Fuckin’ hell, Maverick! You’re such a goddamn control freak!
” With that she stomped away. I took a step to follow.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare come after me right now.
If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave me the hell alone for a while,” she shouted, not even bothering to look back.
I watched her stalk towards the road to our place, her footfalls becoming quieter and quieter the further she got. With each step, my guilt grew, replacing the fear and anger.
“What the hell happened?” Cash asked.
I whirled to him. When had he gotten out of the truck? I hadn’t even heard him close the door. Ripping my cowboy hat off to rub at my brow, I grumbled out, “I fucked up.”
“How?”
I recounted the events to him. Cheyenne’s inattention, the horse’s nerves. All of it. It still sounded bad, but maybe I’d overreacted a bit.
Cash shrugged when I finally finished. “So, she fucked up. She’s human, you can’t let her not ride cuz of one mistake.”
“But she’s pregnant. What if she gets hurt?”
“What if she falls in the shower? What if she trips over that damn dog of hers that’s always on her heel? You gonna not let her bathe or get rid of the dog because of a what if?”
“That’s the…” My words drifted off as I looked at him, shaking my head in disbelief. “Smartest thing I think I’ve heard you say in years.”
Cash chuckled. “I was due for a word of wisdom. You’re welcome.”
I rolled my eyes but I couldn’t hide the small grin on my lips as I righted my hat on my head once more. “I should probably go apologize.”
Cash placed a hand on my shoulder. “Give her some time to cool down a bit.”
“You just want my help with your damn truck.”
He grinned and shrugged, not even bothering to hide his intentions. “Might as well kill two birds with one stone.”
I shook my head but waved a hand in the truck’s direction. “Alright, let’s see what the hell’s wrong with this piece of shit.”
“Hey now, don’t talk about her that way… She’s sensitive,” Cash said defensively, going so far as to stroke the truck’s rusted hood as we came to its side.
I may not be able to fix or control the situation with Cheyenne at the moment, but I sure as hell knew I could fix this problem.
When Cash and I got back to my house, Cheyenne wasn’t there, though Brandy was. Cash mentioned something about noticing Charlie’s Tacoma heading toward my place earlier, so they must have gone off somewhere. I pulled out my phone to check in with Cheyenne when I noticed a message.
Chey: Went to dinner with Charlie. Be back later.
Well, that answered that.
As much as I wanted to talk to her and make things right, I was glad she could spend this time with Charlie. It was good they had each other through this. Lord knows, I didn’t have all the answers, and she needed time with her friends.
I turned to Cash. “Well, Cheyenne’s out at dinner with Charlie, so what do you wanna do?”
Cash’s face lit up. “How ‘bout a boy’s night?”
“First,” I said, grabbing a Coke out of the fridge, “Ryder ain’t here and I’m in no mood to deal with your antics alone. And second, it’s a Wednesday night.”
“So? Everyday’s a party if you want it to be.”
I huffed a laugh, taking a long sip of my drink. “Wanna practice?”
“We rode earlier,” Cash groaned, reminding me more of a child than a twenty-seven-year-old man.
“Yeah, and we looked like shit. We got a rodeo comin’ up in a week, and if we rope anythin’ like how we did today, we’re fucked.”
Cash rolled his eyes, making his way to the fridge to grab himself a beer. Just like Chey’s chocolate chips, I always made sure to keep at least a six pack in the fridge. “Fine…but I’m hungry.”
“How ‘bout I cook up some steaks and you call your dad and see if him and Goodie wanna come over and work the chute?”
“Well, it ain’t as good as bangin’ buckle bunnies, but it’ll do. Make sure not to burn mine like last time.”
I narrowed my gaze on him. “I don’t burn things…ever.”
Cash’s shit-eating grin lit up the room.
It’d been a while since it was just him and I.
Since Chey had moved in, she and I were together a lot.
Not that I minded. I enjoyed her company, but even if Cash was obnoxious and annoying as hell, he was my brother in all the ways that mattered.
And I could always count on him for a good laugh or a distraction.
After the little spat with Cheyenne, I needed both.