Chapter Six
RUSS LEANED against the barn door and followed Jordan’s progress as he returned to the house. Watching that boy walk away was probably the best part of his night… for a number of reasons. And because of those reasons, he looked forward to seeing the back of him for good when the brat got tired of real work and headed home to Mommy and Daddy.
Dallas whickered hopefully at him from his stall at the front of the barn, and Russ smiled. “No more for you tonight, greedy Gus. Go to sleep.”
He pushed away from the door and headed back to the house. The light in Jordan’s window came on when he was halfway across the yard, and Russ felt the slightest twinge of guilt for yelling at him. Jordan hadn’t actually done anything wrong, except jumping the gun a bit. When Russ had spotted him headed for the barn on the security camera feed, he’d been equal parts irritated and worried, which had translated to all irritated when he’d spotted the guy charming the horses like he did everyone else.
“Too goddamned slick,” he muttered under his breath.
Still, unfair or not, it was best to set some ground rules. Jordan probably wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter, but Russ wasn’t going to pussyfoot around the brat, no matter what Phyl said.
LIKE CLOCKWORK, before dawn, Russ was showered, dressed, and enjoying a cup of coffee on the front porch in the quiet of the morning. This was his favorite time of day. As a few sleepy crickets gave half-hearted chirps on their way to bed, the soft purple twilight spread across the sky. Mist clung heavy and still in the air as if the world held its breath, waiting for the sun to paint the horizon bright orange and stir the whole place to life for another day.
This was home, the first real home he’d ever had, and he couldn’t have asked for a better one.
The screen door creaked and Phyl joined him in the second rocking chair, where they sat in silence, sipping their coffee as the sky steadily brightened. When Sean was still alive, he’d been the one in the other rocker while Phyl puttered in the kitchen or her office, too antsy to sit still before the day’s work started in earnest. But after Sean’s death, she’d slowed down a bit. For a few months, she’d taken to sitting in that chair and rocking the days away. Until one morning, she’d hopped up and put herself back to work again, just like that. But she still came out and spent the mornings with him most days, which helped him start the day off right and made missing Sean a little easier—probably for both of them.
“You’re going to be nice to him, right?” Phyl asked as the sun finally broke the horizon and Ralph, the camel, let out one of his lowing grunts.
Russ grimaced. “Put him with Ernie.”
“Ernie’s herd doesn’t need as much attention as yours. People around here aren’t going to be trying to ride his llamas and alpacas if they take them. The horses need more gentling and training if we’re ever going to find them good forever homes. Besides, Jordan knows what he’s doing with the horses. Even as a kid, he was always great with them. I doubt that’s changed.”
Russ scowled and sipped at the last lukewarm dregs in his mug, but refrained from comment, and Phyl gave him a light slap to his bicep. “Quit being an ass. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you need to put a lid on it. Quit your bellyachin’ and put a civil tongue in your head, ’cause he ain’t goin’ nowhere for the time being. Got it?”
Despite his best efforts, the huff she expelled as she pushed herself out of the chair and headed back inside made him crack a smile.
“I’ve gotta go check on the bacon before it burns,” she muttered.
Apparently he’d already gotten on her last nerve, and the day had barely begun. If he wasn’t careful, she might send him to bed without his supper tonight or, God forbid, make him fend for himself.
“So, are you going to wake sleeping beauty or wait for him to roll out of bed when he feels like it?” he asked as he strolled into the kitchen to pour himself another cup a few minutes later.
Phyl frowned at him from her place by the stove, but Russ only raised his eyebrows and smiled blandly, contriving to look as innocent as possible.
Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the eggs in the pan. “He’s already up. I heard the shower kick on upstairs before I went outside.”
As if to prove her point, they heard footsteps on the stairs a moment before Jordan entered the kitchen, looking fresh as a daisy, his perfectly sculpted, blond-highlighted hair still wet.
“Looks like I’m late,” he said with an apologetic, self-deprecating smile that had Phyl’s grin widening and her eyes softening in seconds.
Russ would have rolled his, but he was already skating on thin ice and wasn’t willing to risk starvation or food poisoning by his own hand.
“Not late at all, darlin’,” Phyl cooed. “Breakfast is just about ready. We’ll get you filled up, and then Russ here’ll take you on a tour before settin’ you to work.”
Jordan threw him a tentative smile, his blue eyes wide and disingenuous. Russ couldn’t find a lick of the fire from the night before anywhere in his face, even when Phyl turned her back on them.
Jordan continued to regard him with that bland, expectant expression until Russ shifted uncomfortably and looked away.
“Here we are,” Phyl said, carrying a bowl of eggs and a plate of bacon to the table. “I hope you don’t mind scrambled, Jordan.”
“No. That’s wonderful. Thank you.”
Phyl’s smile widened. “Russ, will you get us some plates?”
Jon and Ernie arrived as they were eating. Jon snuck a piece of toast and some bacon while everyone but Russ exchanged small talk… and everyone but Russ hung on Jordan’s every word.
It was disgusting.
After they were done eating, Jordan offered to clean up again, but Phyl wouldn’t hear of it. “You go on out with Russ and the others, and I’ll take care of this. It’s one of the few things I can still do on the ranch that isn’t paperwork and fundraising.”
“She likes to put on a show, but the truth is, she can run any one of us into the ground, any day of the week,” Jon cut in conspiratorially.
Phyl chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and ‘in the ground’ is where I’d stay if I tried. Go on. Get out of here. Don’t you have work to do?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jon, Ernie, and Russ said in unison.
Outside, Jordan hung back a little, and with a resigned sigh, Russ motioned him to follow. “Come on. I’m supposed to give you a tour before I put you to work.”
“You don’t have to do that. I mean, not that much has changed. I can find my way around if you’ve got things you’d rather be doing,” Jordan chimed in as he hurried to catch up.
Russ grunted and kept walking.
At the doors to the barn, he stopped and reluctantly turned to his ball-and-chain for the foreseeable future. “Like I said last night, you’ll need to know a bit about the animals before you can be left alone with them. I don’t care how much experience you’ve got with horses.”
Jordan’s smile fell just a fraction before resuming its earlier blinding brilliance. “Of course. Is that where I’m working today, in the barn?”
“Phyl says you’re good with our equine friends here, so here’s where she wants you.” He made sure his tone made it clear that this wasn’t his idea and he wasn’t exactly happy about it, but Jordan’s smile and expectant expression didn’t falter again.
“All right, then,” Jordan replied, clapping his hands together briskly, “lead the way.”
Russ’s scowl deepened. The brat was too goddamned cheerful. He didn’t like it. But he had plenty of work to wipe that smile off Jordan’s face.
Pursing his lips so they wouldn’t split into an evil grin, he gave Jordan an obvious once-over. “Your boots look sturdy enough, so that’s at least something. Although you may regret the shiny new jeans and T-shirt you’re wearing.”
Jordan let out a chuckle that might have been charming, if Russ had been in any kind of mood to be won over. “Yeah, when I decided to come down, I realized I didn’t really have any clothes with me that could be considered work clothes, so I stopped at a Walmart on the way. Luckily, I grabbed my steel-toed hiking boots and my riding boots before I left home. Those would’ve been harder to replace.”
Which tells me this visit wasn’t exactly planned. Interesting.
Without comment, Russ turned and led the way to the first stall, and a great black head poked greedily out into the aisle. “This is Dallas, the attention whore I’m sure you met last night. He’s as sweet-tempered as they come and kind of a grandpa to the herd. He spent his younger years being run into the ground on the racing circuit, so all four legs have foundered. He’ll never be ridden again, but he’s real good with the visitors and kids, and he holds a special place here at the ranch. He’s earned his retirement, and he’s not going anywhere but here where we can take care of him.” His voice softened and his shoulders relaxed as he rubbed Dallas’s muzzle while he talked. When he glanced over his shoulder, Jordan had gone a little doe-eyed too, so he cleared his throat and moved down the aisle. “Most of the horses that we keep in the barn are either new and need to be evaluated, sick or injured, or don’t get along with the rest of the herd that we allow to stay out in the pasture. Dallas gets his stall whenever he wants it, because he’s special.”
Continuing down the line, he gave histories, general temperaments, and lists of injuries etcetera for the rest of the seven horses in the barn, taking particular time to point out the more dangerous of his charges. He’d given this speech or one like it to dozens of volunteers, so by the end he was running on autopilot. Jordan didn’t interrupt with questions until they reached Marina’s stall at the very end of the row.
“Is she pregnant?”
“You noticed, huh?” Russ sneered.
Jordan grimaced and rolled his eyes, his Pollyanna routine slipping for the first time that day, but only for a second. Russ blinked, and Jordan’s face had smoothed out again. “She’s very skinny.”
Russ turned away from Jordan and rested his gaze on the little bay mare in the stall instead. “She was worse when we got her, barely a two on the Henneke scale. In two weeks, we’ve managed to put thirty pounds on her, but she’s got a long way to go. The other horse we found with her died before we could get to them.”
“That’s awful. How could anyone do that, just let their horses starve?”
Russ actually agreed with him, but things were rarely ever black-and-white in the real world, and having a man who’d probably never had to worry about money a day in his life passing judgment on people he didn’t even know, got Russ’s back up. “Not everyone in this world has millions to fall back on,” he snapped. “Times are hard, and a lot of folks can’t keep up. If it comes to feeding themselves or feeding their stock, the choice is made. Don’t always make ’em bad people, just hard up.”
He’d seen more than his fair share of tearful goodbyes as people gave up their beloved animals to the rescue.
“Still,” Jordan argued, “they should’ve brought them to you before it came to this point.”
He was right, but damned if Russ was going to admit it. Instead, he said, “Just steer clear of her for the time being. She’s scared, weak, and we’ve got to take our time. Between the rain rot on her back, the state of her hooves, and everything else that comes with malnutrition, she’s a mess, but we can only do what she’ll let us, a little at a time. She’s my project for now, separate from the others for a reason.” He moved back up the aisle without checking if Jordan followed.
Outside, he waved a hand at the wheelbarrow, shovel, and rake. “Should I assume you know how to properly clean a stall?”
“Yeah.”
Surprised by the laughter in Jordan’s voice, Russ shot him a look. When Jordan only grinned back, Russ’s eyebrows drew together. “All right, then. I’ll trust Phyl’s judgment and leave you to it. I’ll let the ones out who can be with the herd. Take care of their stalls first, then come and get me, and I’ll lead the others out, one by one, into a pen, until you’re done there. We keep fresh straw in the empty stalls on the right, and you can find gloves in the tack room.”
“Okay.”
A little suspicious of Jordan’s easy acceptance—everyone groaned at least a little when given mucking duty—Russ left him with the wheelbarrow, moved to the fence beyond the barn, and whistled. About a dozen heads lifted in the distance, and Daisy and Missy broke into a trot coming toward him. They were the biggest suckers for a bit of apple or a sugar cube, and always first in line at feeding time. They were also the most likely to be adopted soon, given their age, level of training, and temperaments.
The rest of the herd moved in at a slightly slower pace, so by the time he’d let Dallas and a couple of others out of their stalls and into the paddock, the rest of the herd had lined up at or near the fence hoping for treats.
“All right, kids. I think I might have a little something to make you happy.”
He grabbed a bucket of pellets from the feed shed and took a few minutes to coax each horse over for a little hand feeding and a pat or two. Most of the group had been gentled enough by now that they needed little coaxing, but a few of the newer additions required a bit more effort. The greedier ones jockeying for position didn’t always make things easy either, but he got the job done.
Once or twice he caught Jordan just standing around watching him, but a pointed scowl helped put the brat back to work soon enough. Russ had a feeling he’d have to ride Jordan’s lazy, entitled ass to get a decent day’s work out of him, but maybe if Jordan complained, Phyl would dump him on someone else.
One can only hope.
Much sooner than Russ expected, Jordan showed up at his elbow.
“I’m ready for you to lead the others out, unless you want me to do it,” Jordan said.
Russ frowned and led the way back to the barn to inspect Jordan’s work, but the stalls were clean and strewn with a blanket of fresh straw. Unreasonably irritated, Russ moved to the next occupied stall, clipped a lead to Bannock’s halter after coaxing the injured horse forward, and led it out into a pen for some sunshine and fresh air.
From what the police could gather, Bannock had been used for target practice by a “person or person’s unknown” on his previous owner’s farm. The wounds had been left untreated until the owner was forced to surrender the gelded draft horse to the ranch. He was a big beast, but mostly gentle, just a bit touchy about his healing wounds. He’d make a gorgeous addition to the right family, once he’d had time to heal and a little more training.
While Jordan cleaned up the massive beast’s equally massive mess, Russ checked out each of the healing wounds, slowly and carefully.
“You’re looking good, big guy,” he murmured. “You’ll be out with the others pretty soon, and we’ll be able to put your pretty mug on the website for adoption before you know it.”
His shoulders itched like he was being watched, and sure enough, when he glanced over his shoulder, Jordan was there.
“Don’t you have work to do?” he grumbled as he patted Bannock’s shoulder.
“I’m done. I was just waiting for you to finish.”
With a huff, Russ led Bannock back into the freshly cleaned stall.
“You know, you won’t win any brownie points if you’ve shot your wad before noon,” he grouched as he shoved the latch home and moved on to the next stall.
As the day passed, Russ kept waiting for Jordan to cry uncle, but the man kept chugging away like a machine, giving Russ nothing to gripe about… which irritated him no end, particularly when Phyl brought them sandwiches, bottles of water, and glasses of lemonade, and went on and on about how great a job Jordan was doing.
“I gotta go soon, or Jon and Ernie’ll pass out from starvation. But I think the two of you should saddle up the girls, Daisy and Missy, and go for a ride,” Phyl said cheerily.
Russ tried to hide his scowl, but he wasn’t completely successful, judging by Phyl’s pointed glare.
“We still have Marina’s stall and a few other things to do round here.”
“That won’t take more’n an hour,” Phyl countered, waving a dismissive hand. “You got plenty of time, and with the weekend coming up, I need those two well-exercised and on their best behavior, in case they catch someone’s eye.”
She was right, of course. The girls needed the practice, and if Jordan rode, Russ wouldn’t have to make two trips. That didn’t mean he had to like it.
“Yeah, okay. After we finish up, we’ll go.”
Jordan’s smile this time was nothing like the ones Russ had seen so far. There was no hint of practiced perfection, only delight. It lit up his whole face, making an already pretty man goddamned luminous.
Experiencing an all too familiar tug in his gut, Russ shoved off the straw bale he’d been sitting on and charged down the aisle. “I’ll go get Marina moved,” he threw over his shoulder as he went.