Chapter Seven
JORDAN WAS soaked with sweat and filthy by the time the barn met Russ’s standards for cleanliness. Lugging horseshit and straw around all day long was a distinctly different kind of workout from a couple of hours hitting the machines at the gym, but he’d been mentally prepared for it, and quite frankly looking forward to it ever since he’d come up with this crazy plan. Anything that kept him out of his own head for a while was a good thing. And despite Russ being an asshole for no reason, he was easy on the eyes, making him a nice added distraction from the wreck of Jordan’s life.
In the fantasies that filled his head as he shoveled shit, Russ never said a word beyond “yes” and “more.” Unfortunately, he had to deal with the reality far too often to truly enjoy those daydreams.
He hadn’t given up on winning over the hot bastard yet, though. Russ might be a harder sell than Jordan was used to, but today was only his first real day on the ranch. He’d have time to work on the problem.
“You get Missy,” Russ bit out as he passed by, leading Jordan to the tack room.
“Anything I should know about her?” Jordan asked, hurrying to collect the saddle, pad, and hackamore he’d been directed to before rushing after Russ again.
Russ slowed his stride slightly. “She isn’t one of our hard cases. Both girls are from a farm that had to downsize due to an illness in the family. They’d asked around, tried to sell ’em, but couldn’t find buyers quick enough. The horses had a spot of the flu, and the family couldn’t afford the vet bills on top of everything else. They’d already been saddle broke, just didn’t have much training beyond that. We nursed ’em back to health and gave ’em a bit of training, but that’s pretty much it.” He eyed Jordan appraisingly for a second, the severe line of his lips never changing. “All I’d say is, Missy’s young, a little high-spirited, but mostly sweet and eager to please. She won’t be as disciplined as what you’re probably used to, that and obviously she’s Western saddle broke, which you’re also probably not used to.”
“I’ve done both.”
Russ grunted, turned away, and kept moving.
I’m going to impress you, cowboy. You’re going to like me, whether you like it or not.
Jordan smoothed a hand down his T-shirt, only realizing how ridiculous the gesture was when his hand came back even grimier than before. His looks wouldn’t be winning him any brownie points at the moment, but Russ hadn’t seemed to give a damn even when Jordan had been clean, pressed, and freshly gelled.
Maybe the guy liked it a little dirty and rumpled.
Jordan bit his lip and shook that thought right out of his head. The last thing he needed was to sport wood in front of Russ, or climb into a saddle for a long ride with a boner, come to think of it. He stifled a laugh and dropped his gaze to his boots when Russ shot him a look over his shoulder.
Even Russ’s attitude wouldn’t spoil this day for him. Jordan wouldn’t let it. He’d exceeded Russ’s expectations at every turn. He knew it, no matter what Russ’s face said. And now he was going for a ride in the open air on a pretty little mare. He’d show the cranky cowboy how good a rider he was, and then maybe Russ would let him do more than mucking from now on, without bitching about it.
Ahead of him, Russ lifted a leg to the bottom rail of the fence, rested his saddle on the top, and whistled. The two young mares were the first to the fence, and Russ let them into a small separate corral before closing the gate behind them.
“Do you think you can handle the saddle on your own?”
Jordan managed to not roll his eyes by only the slimmest of margins. “I can do it.”
“Well, get to it, then.” Russ turned his back on Jordan and set to readying his own mount.
Before approaching Missy, Jordan took a deep breath in and let it out, shaking the tension from his limbs at the same time. Missy didn’t know him, and the last thing he wanted was to let any of his irritation with Russ spill over to their first meeting.
“Hey there, sweet girl. I’m Jordan. You ready to go for a little ride today with your friend?”
Keeping his voice low and soft, Jordan studied Missy’s body language for any signs of tension as he approached. Missy stepped up, eagerly nuzzling his hands, looking for treats, probably.
“Sorry, sweetie, you got your treats earlier. Now you get a little workout.”
Russ already had the halter and pad on his mount, but Jordan didn’t care. Russ could wait.
“We’re going to get to know each other a little first,” he murmured as he stroked Missy’s smooth neck and shoulder. Her gleaming auburn coat was warm from the hot Texas sun, sleek and gorgeous, and Jordan felt a weight lift from his chest just touching her. “We’re going to do each other some good,” he whispered for her ears only.
In all honesty, he didn’t need to be so slow and careful. Missy was a pussycat, as eager to please and ready for a ride as they’d said. If Russ had been the one training them, he’d done an even better job than he’d said.
Hot and humble, damn, he’s sexy.
Such a shame.
“Are you two gonna cuddle all day, or are we going for a ride?” the man in question groused from the other side of the paddock.
Jordan did roll his eyes this time, but he didn’t utter a peep as he slid the halter and hackamore in place and moved on to the pad and saddle. The breast collar gave him a bit of trouble, especially since Missy was eager to join Russ and Daisy, but eventually he got everything buckled in and tightened down. He could feel Russ’s eyes on him the whole time, but Russ said nothing, so Jordan did his best to ignore him.
Once Missy was all saddled and ready to ride, Russ opened the gate at the other end of the paddock, led Daisy out, and waited to close the gate after Jordan and Missy had passed through. They mounted in silence, and Russ nudged Daisy into a canter without looking to see if Jordan followed.
As soon as Missy got moving under him, the rest of Jordan’s aching muscles relaxed into the familiar movements. He didn’t care if his riding companion was a grumpy bastard. He didn’t care that he probably wouldn’t be able to move tomorrow. He didn’t even care where they were going, as long as they kept riding.
Despite the heat, the sweat on his skin dried quickly as the horses picked up speed. Jordan really didn’t have to do much directing. Missy followed right on Daisy’s heels with seemingly no interest in wandering off, so Jordan could relax and enjoy the landscape.
Still packed with plenty of grasses, wildflowers, and shrubs, and dotted with trees, the central Texas hill country was a stark contrast to the lush and overgrown greens of Virginia he was used to, but beautiful in its own way. Away from the ranch proper, the land rose steadily as the hot sun beat on his head and back. He’d need to find a hat sometime soon or his forehead and nose would be red as a lobster before the week was out.
At the top of the first hill, he had a great view of the main house, barns, and outbuildings. The dark and light shapes of horses, donkeys, llama, alpaca, goats, and some cattle dotted white-fenced pens and yellow-green-and-brown splotched pastures. Many of the animals seemed to prefer the dubious shade of the few scrubby live oaks, though some braver souls were venturing out, now that the sun was lower in the sky.
“It all looks so much bigger than I remember,” Jordan said.
For the first time that day, Russ actually slowed his horse and cracked a half smile as he gazed down on the ranch. “We’ve done pretty well, despite the times. Each year we try to save more animals than the last. Sometimes we succeed.”
As if he suddenly remembered who he spoke to, Russ’s smile fell away and he nudged Daisy into a trot, down the hill and on to the next one.
Guess we’re done having our moment.
Jordan sighed as he watched Russ’s straight broad shoulders, tight ass, and hard thighs for a few seconds before nudging Missy after them.
The rest of the ride, they barely exchanged a word. Ordinarily, Jordan would have chafed at the silence, but he was enjoying his time in the saddle too much to complain about his less-than-satisfactory company. The Western saddle was a lot bigger than he was used to, so some of his muscles would definitely be complaining later at the unaccustomed stretch. Still, if it helped him sleep through the night without pounding shots of bourbon, he’d count every single exhausted muscle, ache, and pain a win.
Russ turned and headed back toward the house long before Jordan was ready, but he didn’t have much say in the matter, at least for now. The man was as taciturn on the way back as he’d been riding out, and before Jordan knew it, the ranch was in sight and his lovely sojourn was over.
With a sigh of regret, Jordan dismounted in the yard and led Missy into the paddock. After removing most of her gear, Russ told him to fetch the grooming supplies, and they took some time to curry and brush away the trail dust and sweat before removing the hackamores and releasing them back into the pasture with the others.
Outside the barn, Jordan waited for some word of approval for a day’s work well done, but the best Russ could come up with was apparently a brisk nod on his way past as he headed for the house. When Russ reached the bottom step, Phyllis stepped out onto the porch. With a smile and a wave for Jordan, she moved to the edge of the porch and rang the brass bell mounted to a post.
“Time to get washed up for supper, Jordan,” she called as he approached the house.
Jordan smiled his relief and gratitude, and he dragged his aching body up the steps. Now that he was done for the day, the aches and stiffness were definitely settling in. The set of stairs up to the bedrooms gave him pause, but he pushed through and climbed. He would not sit down to dinner covered in everything he was currently covered in.
After a quick shower, he pulled on the second pair of jeans he’d bought on the drive down and one of his polo shirts, figuring the skinny jeans, silk slacks, and linen shorts wouldn’t make him anyone’s favorite at the dinner table. He hadn’t really planned ahead very well. Everything he’d packed from home was useless on the ranch. He was going to need more than two pairs of work pants, or he’d be doing laundry several times a week.
Did Phyllis do the laundry? If not, he was going to need to figure out how to ask for instructions without humiliating himself. He’d never done a load of laundry in his life.
Did Amazon deliver way out there? How much could he afford to spend? The credit card attached to his account had probably been canceled with the rest of them, so that only left his debit card, and—
Flinching away from those thoughts, Jordan fussed with his hair in the mirror above the scarred antique dresser in his room and smoothed a hand down his shirt. He’d worked his ass off today so he wouldn’t have to think, but reality had a way of butting back in, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.
Russ stepped into the hall from the bathroom at the same time Jordan left his room, and they nearly collided in the hall. Apparently Russ had also showered, because he was running a white towel over his damp brown hair and he’d replaced his chambray work shirt from earlier with a stark white undershirt that stretched across his muscled chest and hugged the outlines of his nipples.
Jordan stifled a groan.
Such a shame, a tragedy really.
Flashing a smile, he said, “I forgot to thank you for taking me out with you this afternoon. Missy really is a sweetheart, and it was great to be back in a saddle again. It’s been far too long for me.”
“You can thank Phyl. It was her idea, not mine.”
Persevering, Jordan took a step back and held his smile. “Still, you were the one out there, so thanks.”
Russ pursed his lips and gave a terse nod before stepping through the door to his room and closing it in Jordan’s face.
With an aggrieved sigh, Jordan turned and headed downstairs. Russ was Phyl’s right-hand man, he reminded himself. They were obviously close. Jordan needed his approval if he was going to stay on the ranch for… well, for however long he needed to. Charming him was just going to take a little longer than he’d hoped.