Chapter Four
Colton
I pulled Bethany by the hand, away from the barn and towards the stables. A little gasp of surprise escaped her lips, and I marveled at how incredibly adorable she was. I couldn't keep my eyes off her, ever since she arrived on the ranch, and it was taking all my willpower not to pull her into my arms and kiss her right then.
It had been a tough day at the office. Hell, it had been a tough year. I'd negotiated with the bank for another loan to keep the cattle cared for until they were big enough to take to the slaughterhouse, where several major meat companies would pay me by the pound for the beef they produced.
I had Brett bring me the numbers on their growth so far, and by my calculations, it would be enough to cover the year's expenses and even have a little left over.
Our books may finally be back in the black, but something was still bothering me. According to my reports, we shouldn't have needed the loan in the first place. We hadn't lost many cattle to disease, weather, or accident last year; so why did we have a deficit? We should have had a profit. I just couldn't figure out what I was missing.
After my last phone conference ended at noon, I needed to get out of the office and into the fresh air for a little while. I closed up the little building and strolled out to see Whiskey. Talking to the beautiful quarter horse always made my worries disappear.
Ever since I was a kid, I loved going out to stable to spend some time with the horses, just one on one. Only, this time we weren't alone. I could feel a pair of eyes on me, making the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. When I turned around, I saw Bethany Foster leaning in the doorway of the barn across from the stable, scribbling away on her sketch pad.
Christ, she was beautiful . Her golden-blonde hair hung loose, down to her slender shoulders, and her face looked intense with concentration. Suddenly, she looked up and our gazes locked.
I saw excitement in those blue eyes, but her expression quickly morphed into one of embarrassment mixed with fear as I walked up to her and she quickly closed her sketch pad. There was something in it that she clearly didn't want me to see.
I chatted her up for a few minutes with casual banter. I liked talking to Bethany. She was clearly smart, but occasionally shy, especially when my brothers got noisy around the dinner table. She had an easy laugh, and her smile could outshine the sun. I wanted to see what was in that sketchbook, but she kept it just out of my reach.
"I have absolutely no idea what to paint next," she swore, and my heart went out to her. Maybe her creativity really had frozen up. It happened to me when I was working in the office. I'd be trying to solve a problem and my mind would just lock up so nothing seemed to make any sense. There was only one cure for it, and I knew just what to do.
"Blocked, huh? I know just what you need to get unblocked." I pulled her from the barn to the stable, and she stared at me with curious eyes as I got Whiskey suited up in her saddle and bridle.
"Hop on up," I said to Bethany when Whiskey was ready. The horse whinnied happily, eager to go for a midday ride.
"I've only ridden a few times, and I'm not very good," Bethany confessed.
"I'll do all the work," I assured her. I gave her a boost onto the horse's back, then climbed on in front of her. She wrapped her arms around my waist timidly as Whiskey started off with an easy walk. Once we were out of the main yard, I urged her into a gallop and the horse let loose with a flurry of hooves. Bethany squealed with delight and hugged her arms around me.
It felt good, and for the first time that day, I forgot about expenses and invoices, and I just felt free. We rode through the wooded land beyond the ranch, down the hill, and across the river. Finally, we came to stop under a huge apple tree that had been growing wild in the forest since before I was born.
"That was so much fun. I've never felt so free," Bethany gushed happily as I helped her down from Whiskey's back. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were dancing.
"Nothing clears the mind better than a good ride," I agreed.
"These apples smell delicious." She admired the old tree as Whiskey craned her head up high and took one, chomping noisily. I realized I hadn't had lunch yet, so I reached up to one of the tree's low-hanging branches and plucked several of the red and gold apples.
"Want one?" I called out to Bethany. When she nodded her head yes, I tossed it to her. She caught it easily and took a big bite.
"Oh my God. That's the best thing I've ever tasted," she said through a mouthful, spilling juice down her chin.
"Don't they have apples in Chicago?" I teased. Before I realized what I was doing, I reached out with my finger to gently wipe the dribble of juice from her face.
"Not like these," she marveled as I pulled my hand back away with chagrin. "Nothing in the city is like this. The sky out here is somehow bigger, the grass is literally greener, and the food is tastier. I guess life really is sweeter out in the country."
She sat down in the tall grass beneath the tree, smiling wistfully, her apple almost entirely gone.
"So why live in the city? Why not move out here to the country?" I asked, sitting down beside her in the cool shade.
"Why? I guess because of my family.”
"You have a big family?" I could certainly understand that and the obligations that came with it, but her response surprised me.
"No, not at all. It's just my mother and me, and I'm not sure she even likes me."
"How could your own mother not love you? And, what about your father?"
"Oh, she loves me. She just doesn't like me, and my father is the reason why. He never wanted a kid, apparently, so when she told him she was pregnant with me, he wanted to leave. She talked him into staying a few years, but by my second birthday, he just couldn't take it anymore and split."
"That's terrible."
"Yeah. He went out for ice cream for my birthday party and never came back. When Mom got back home from the pizza parlor where all her friends had been waiting for him to return, she found he had packed up all his belongings and left a goodbye note on the table. That was the last we ever saw or heard from him, and she blames me for it."
"You have to know that's not true. It's never the child's fault when a jerk isn't man enough to be a father. What he did was his fault, not yours."
"I know that in my mind, but sometimes it's hard to convince my heart." Her eyes were full of emotion, and all I wanted to do was kiss her to make her feel better. Our lips drew close, but then I chickened out at the last moment and pulled back.
Struggling to cover the awkwardness, I asked her, "Did your mother ever remarry?"
"No. And I never had any siblings. It was always just her and me."
"Well, siblings can be overrated. Believe me," I joked, and she laughed sweetly.
"You say that, but I always wished I had a family. My childhood was very lonely. There were times I would have given anything to have four noisy brothers bickering all around the dinner table."
"Well, family isn't all it's cracked up to be. They sound like a blessing, but they can also be a burden." I had been trying to comfort her, but the words came out a lot heavier than I meant them to.
Bethany took my hand in her two small ones and stroked it softly. Looking me in the eyes, she asked, "I know you love your family, but I can see they put a lot of pressure on you. Your mother told me that you never had any choice but to do what you do. Do you resent working on the ranch?"
It was a question no one had ever asked me before, and I thought about the answer long and hard. Finally, I said, "No, I don't resent working on the ranch. It's my home and I love it.
“I resent being helpless to save it. I could be responsible for my entire family being homeless. It's a miserable position to be in and the guilt keeps me up at night."
It was the first time I had expressed my feelings like that, and the relief I felt was amazing. Suddenly, I could breathe again.
Bethany looked at me and said, "I understand. It's the same way I feel about my family. I feel guilty for my mother being left alone, even though I was helpless to stop my father from leaving."
We spent the whole rest of the afternoon talking, walking along the riverbank, and sharing our feelings. Bethany told me all about her childhood, growing up alone in the city, and I told her what it was like to live on the ranch surrounded by four younger brothers.
We were completely different, and yet very much the same. We both felt a responsibility to the ones we loved, even though we had no control over the things that happened around us.
Bethany lit up whenever she talked about her art, and I admired how much courage it must have taken for her to go to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. She'd worked her ass off to get there and had just graduated with a degree and applied for a prestigious internship at the Chicago Museum of Modern Art.
"So, only a few students are granted the internship each year, and I found out that one of them is me."
"Congratulations! That's fantastic." I was truly proud of her, and as I looked at her beaming up at me, I was moved to kiss her.
This time, I didn't chicken out, and at the moment when our lips touched, my whole world changed. Her lips were soft and tender, and I circled my hands around her, drawing her closer to me as our kiss deepened. She opened her mouth to me and as our tongues caressed, a gentle moan escaped her throat.
Finally, we broke apart and stood staring at each other breathlessly.
"Sorry," I mumbled, feeling like a schoolboy after his first kiss. I'd been with plenty of women, but none of them had ever made me feel like this.
"I'm not." Bethany smiled reassuringly. "I liked it."
"Good. Because I've been wanting to do that since I first saw you, and there's a good chance I'll do it again."
"I think I'd like that, too," she confessed. I took her tiny hand in mine, and we strolled back along the riverbank, hand-in-hand like a young couple in love, back to the apple tree where I'd tied Whiskey to the trunk. The sun was getting very low, and I felt a pain of reluctance as I said, "It'll be dark soon. We'd better get back."
I boosted her up onto the saddle, and we rode home at a casual trot, in no particular hurry like we'd been when we first left.
When we came up on the pasture, I slowed Whiskey to a walk so I could check on the workers just getting ready to end their shifts for the day. Brett was supposed to keep an eye on the new hires, but he wasn't always the most reliable supervisor.
I saw one of them working on a hole in the fence line, and I felt Bethany's arms tighten around my waist with sudden force. I could hear her breathing draw in with a sharp gasp, and I pulled Whiskey up to halt.
Looking back over my shoulder I saw that her face had gone white as snow.
"Are you all right?" I asked, feeling worried that she might faint.
"It's him," she whispered, pointing out at the worker in the field.
"Who?" I asked, ready to protect her.
She swallowed hard, and then said softly, "My father."