Chapter Eight
Emma
Monday
I’d set my alarm for four thirty in the morning, not wanting to be late to my first day on the Gains Ranch, though I hadn’t actually been given an exact time to turn up. I was showered, dressed, and out in the car by five thirty, with a full belly and plenty of nerves running through me about the new position.
Not the job itself. I knew I was capable of taking care of anything on the farm, having done it for years on Daddy’s property. It was everything else that got me jittery as a new foal.
I drove up the long driveway from the country road that ran along one side of Pete’s property as the sun was rising on the far end of the farm, a blinding ball of light slung low on the horizon. Pete was on the porch reading the paper, as seemed to be his way in the morning. I parked my car and walked up to the house, but he didn’t get out of his seat like he had last time.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning,” I said back.
“Come on up and take a seat.” He motioned to the empty chair on the other side of his wiry-haired dog, who hadn’t lifted his head yet.
I hesitated, unsure of why we weren’t getting right to work. Surely, there was plenty to do. But maybe he had a few things to tell me about the running of the farm and figured this was the best way to do it. After that, we’d get to it.
I sat down but didn’t relax, my back straight and fingers twitching over the jeans I was wearing. Pete wasn’t wearing his hat yet today — it was sitting next to him on the ground — so I could see his thick shock of shiny black hair, which he wore clipped short to show his ears and pushed back away from his forehead. He’d shaved this morning, his strong jawline glistening and smooth.
“Tell me about yourself, Emma,” he said with an easy smile.
I didn’t see what this had to do with my place on the farm, but he was the boss. “Not much to tell. I was born and raised here, went to school in Austin, and came back after graduation.”
“John Flowers is your daddy?” he asked.
My eyebrows twitched, but I kept them from pulling together. Had he been asking around town about me? “Yeah.”
He looked at me, waiting on something. Maybe for me to ask him about himself. I was interested to know something about him, but I was more interested to get started with my duties on the farm. That was what I was being paid to do. I imagined I’d do most of my work throughout the day without seeing him much. I might see the trainer more, whose name I still didn’t know.
“I grew up on this ranch,” Pete said, staring out at our view of the front end of the property. From here, it was nothing but rolling green land and the country road far out in the distance. “My daddy raised heads of cattle part of the time, but he really loved horses.”
I snuck a glance at him from the corner of my eye while his gaze was elsewhere. His straight nose led to lips that were used to smiling and a chin that was strong and square. He ran a hand over his dark hair, flattening it before setting his brown cowboy hat onto his head.
“He passed after I finished high school. I took over from there. It was hard, mostly because I was used to goofing off more than I was used to working, but I’d been on the farm since before I could walk. And, I had help. My best friend works on the farm right beside me.”
I didn’t know what to say. I’d never met a cowboy who talked as much as Pete did. And he never stopped smiling, even when he was talking about his daddy passing away. I was getting more uncomfortable as the conversation went on. It would be good to get to my duties, but I couldn’t really insist on that. This was his ranch. If he wanted to jibber jabber, that was just what we’d do.
After another twenty minutes of him talking nonstop while I watched and dropped the occasional nod or single word response, we finally got started with the day. I hung a step behind him as he led me to the barn so I could check my watch without him seeing me do it.
We’d wasted nearly an hour on the porch, letting the sun get higher and the horses hungrier. We’d always fed our animals before school on Daddy’s farm and again before we sat down to dinner. Stables needed mucking out before we did anything else. Even chatty Kasey had known to knuckle down to get her chores done while keeping her lips buttoned. I hoped this morning’s conversation wouldn’t be as regular with Pete as reading the Register.
He slid open the alleyway doors to the barn, and we stepped inside. I loved the smell of this place: the closeness of the animals and the deep, sweet scent of hay. I liked how clean the stables were kept. I could smell the tang of manure. too, but that was just fine. It would only take me a few hours to get the horses fed, watered, and out to pasture so I could clean their stalls thoroughly.
Pete stopped at the first stall, grinning like he’d just heard something particularly funny. “This is Elroy.” He smiled wider at my confused look. What kind of name was that for a horse? “He’s the new colt. We’re still trying to figure out a name for him. If we don’t come up with something quick, I think we’ll be stuck with what he came with.”
Elroy stuck his long face out of the stall, and I rubbed his soft neck.
“I’m sure you know what needs to be done in a barn each day, but I’ll go over it anyway.” He was a little more serious now, but his clean-shaven jaw and sparkling eyes — the mischief in them reminding me of my own giggly sister — made him look much younger than he was, like he was still that boy fresh from high school and struggling to run his daddy’s ranch.
“The horses need fed and watered each morning. We like to put them out in the paddock first thing. The trainer will choose the ones to work with each day, but the others will be up to you to exercise and keep watered. The stalls get cleaned in the morning. You can spray them out. The floors are cement under the mats.” A grin broke over his face, like he just couldn’t contain it anymore. “We have a stereo hookup too, so go ahead and play music if you want. The horses are used to it. Just don’t blast it!” He laughed, slapping his knee while I watched, one eyebrow raised and jaw clenched to keep my face neutral.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” he asked, blue eyes as wide as his smile.
I shook my head a single time. “Not unless I have something of import to say.” I’d heard Daddy say that in response to the same question when I was about ten years old and never forgot it.
“Well, I talk enough for the two of us, so I think we’ll get along just fine. You could laugh at a joke or two now and then.” The power went up on his smile, but I didn’t change my serene expression. I didn’t smile or laugh just because someone wanted me to.
It was important to set up boundaries between Pete and me. But, I had to admit, the way he went through the things he wanted, even if he was as giggly as Kasey, was attractive in its way. He didn’t worry about not matching the idea of the average cowboy: reserved, serious, with a rough, well-worn demeanor. He acted just the way he wanted and was letting me know exactly what he expected from me. I could respect that, even if it didn’t match with the way I thought a ranch should be run. By the look of the property, what he was doing was clearly working for him.
We went to the tack and feed rooms again so he could point out everything I’d need to complete my daily tasks.
“I like the horses groomed at the end of the day, so they’re clean when we put them in their stalls.” He showed me the collection of curry brushes, dandy brushes, main combs, and body brushes, all neatly organized on a pegboard hung up on the rear wall of the tack room.
“The last thing you’ll do before leaving at the end of each day is make sure each horse has fresh water in their stalls.”
I nodded once. I’d loosened up after our long tour of the barn. Pete wasn’t just a good-looking jokester playing rancher. He actually knew what he was doing. I could be happy here, caring for these horses. I’d have to figure out a way around the drawn-out morning conversation, or at the very least keep it under ten minutes of small talking and jokes that fell so flat I almost felt sorry for him. Even if I had to suffer through the full hour, at least he wasn’t bad to look at.
He took me out of the stable the way we’d come in, stopping at each stall so he could introduce me to the horses one by one. He had mostly quarter horses, but there was a spotted Appaloosa, and a pinto, too. I spent a little extra time rubbing the pinto’s nose. I’d grown up with my own pinto and had a special spot in my heart for them.
“They like you,” Pete said, glancing over at me as we walked out of the barn and into the sun. “That says a lot.”
I didn’t respond, just followed him out to the corral, where he leaned on the fence, his arms hanging into the empty space. I was itching to get started with the horses. They were hungry and ready to run around. But I leaned onto the fence, too, and stared out at the pasture land in the distance. The fields were beyond there. I planned to saddle up a horse later this afternoon once my other duties were done and take a good long tour of the property.
“How do you feel about the job?” he asked. I could see him looking over at me from the corner of my eye, but I didn’t turn to meet his sparkling baby blues.
“I like it just fine,” I said. “I can’t wait to get to work.”
He smiled when I turned to stare up at him. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Should I get started with the horses?” I asked. I needed to get them used to me. And fed. And watered. And out in the sunlight where they could stretch their long, lovely legs. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t gotten started already. I’d been there for nearly three hours. Those horses had to be getting as anxious as I was.
“Just one more thing,” he said, stopping me from walking off just yet. “There’s another woman who’ll be on the farm most days. Her name’s Lacey. You’ll get to meet her later in the week. She’s got other business to attend to for the next couple days.” He watched me, his light eyes as blue and open as the sky above our heads.
I nodded once. Lacey must’ve been the woman in the red pickup. The way his face softened up when he mentioned her name told me all I needed to know about their relationship. It was a relief, really, because once she got back, Pete would start pointing all his conversation and jokes her way, leaving me free to start my work as soon as I got in. And, unlike Kasey, I considered men with girlfriends completely off limits.
“I’ll let you get to it then,” he said and turned to strike off in the direction of the house. I watched him go, unable to keep my eyes from drifting down to the fine shape of his ass in those jeans. I should’ve looked away, but I didn’t. There was nothing wrong with appreciating the way those jeans hugged his muscly legs and butt, was there? Not like I was ever going to do anything about it.