The constant dancing on their feet and the brays, which are loud and vibrant, tell me that the studs can smell the females.
“Your horses are beautiful,” I murmur as I lean down and pet Gracie’s head beside me.
“As are yours.”
Across the distance of the pasture, I meet Jack’s gaze. It’s only for a fleeting second, but there’s something in his expression—pride, maybe—that makes me stand a little taller.
“Shall we?” I ask.
We continue the tour around the ranch as the others finish unloading the studs and park the equine carriers in the empty field for storage. I patiently answer every question Pete has. I diligently find the answers to the ones I don’t know without trying to be defensive.
The whistle that we’re about to officially start this union pulls our attention to where the workers have gathered near the breeding pens, and we move in their direction.
“Everything to your liking?” Jack asks as we approach.
“Just like you promised,” Pete says and then smiles when Will leads Cali into the breeding pen. She’s antsy and fights him some, but only because she’s caught a whiff of the scent of one of the stallions that Cory, one of the workers from Steely Brothers, is walking across the distance.
“Nothing like jumping right into things, huh?” Pete says with a laugh.
“Cali presented,” Jack says as she dances some more on her feet before squatting a bit and urinating.
“Yes, she sure is,” Pete says while Cory fights to control the sire, who had taken note of Cali. Pete reaches out and shakes Jack’s hand and then mine as the gate is shut so the two horses are locked in together. “Here we go.”
It’s a delicate dance as the horses move around each other.
It’s carnal and animalistic and, at the same time, clinical.
I catch Jack’s glance and his slight nod as the stallion approaches Cali and she bucks away.
Almost as if she knows what is coming next.
Almost as if she knows she can’t escape him.
Almost as if she knows after him, she’ll never be the same.
Her life will forever be changed.
38
TATE
The lights burn bright in the bunkhouse. Laughter rings out more often than not and floats through the still night air.
It’s as welcome of a sound as it is lonely.
Because so long as it’s happening, Jack’s there. He’s doing his job schmoozing and entertaining the men from Steely instead of being here at the house with me.
He’s doing what I hired him to do.
I take a sip of wine and close my eyes as the cool breeze hits my cheeks.
I miss him.
It’s why I’m sitting on the porch swing at eleven o’clock at night instead of sleeping.
Hell, maybe I’ve gotten so used to sharing my little victories with Jack that I’m just waiting here to share today with him like has become our norm.
Maybe, more than anything, I want to tell him that I finally get it.
The it being what it feels like to see something I’ve worked so hard for flourish. Sweat and tears and grime and grit and a whole hell of a lot of determination has taught me that I actually love this place. I haven’t ever felt that before.
But sitting here with the men laughing, the night air around me, a little piece of my heart lost but found, and a small taste of success on my tongue, I now know what it feels like.
I now know it’s a feeling that was and still is worth fighting for.
Funny thing, I thought there was only one it to get, but when a whoop over winning a hand in the poker game they’re playing reaches me, I realize there are two. The second it I finally get is what it feels like to have someone at your side who wants you to be a part of every single victory no matter how small it is.
It’s a foreign feeling to me.
I recall Jack’s glances today. The soft touches he’d give me that went unnoticed. Little things to tell me he was proud while never trying to steal my thunder.
He wants me to be part of every step and involved in every decision. It’s a heady feeling that is powerful and rewarding all at the same time.
My phone vibrates on the table beside me. I pick it up, not knowing who would be texting me so late.
JACK: You did well today.
Pride swells within me and tears blur my visions. I really needed to hear his voice, but this is the next closest thing to it.
ME: Thanks to you. This is all because of you, Jack. Thank you.
I send the text and imagine him checking his phone while the beer and jokes flow around that table.
JACK: Good night. Tell Gracie not to get too comfortable.
I smile and know the dog is going to love getting to sleep in Jack’s usual place in the bed beside me.
Standing, I take one last look at the lights burning in the bunkhouse before Gracie and I head inside.
Maybe them being here is for the best.
I’m getting a little too used to him being beside me.
In three months’ time, he’ll be gone, and I’ll be, what? Devastated? Better off because of the time I spent with him? Heartbroken?
Maybe a bit of all three.
And definitely a lot of one.
39
TATE
“So far, we’ve had six of your forty present. We’ve introduced them to their designated stud twice and let them do their thing,” Cory says as he gestures to the whiteboard the men have set up to keep track of all of the combinations and pairings of our mares and their stallions.
“That’s . . . great.” My response is hesitant because I’m still trying to process all that has happened in the last week.
Nonstop.
That’s the only word I can think of to describe it. I feel like I’m putting on a dog-and-pony show, and I’m the dog while Jack is the pony.
If the men go to the bar, Jack accompanies them so he can play defense against the Lone Star residents bad-mouthing the ranch or me.
It’s as if we’re on a constant vigil, and hell if I’m not expecting Rusty to come careening down the driveway at any moment to report another complaint. Even worse, I’m fearful of being served my notice that we are officially beginning the foreclosure process. Neither the complaints nor being served would look good to Pete.
And I really need this to look good to Pete.
Steely agreeing to a long-term contract would give me a steady income for the next few years. It would mean I’d be willing to possibly sell a few more things off if I knew I had some guaranteed income coming down the pipeline.
It would mean I would be able to keep this ranch, my house . . . this life I fell into and wasn’t sure I wanted but now don’t want to walk away from.
“Right?” Cory asks.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” I ask, hating that I wasn’t paying attention.
“That all of this is looking rather positive.”
“It is. Yes. It’s just . . .”
“A lot.” He shrugs unapologetically. “We can be a little overwhelming. The boys and I don’t get out much, so fresh scenery to look at, some new bars to frequent, and some new horses to mate . . . hell, it’s like we’re kids in a candy store.”
“Be my guest.” I laugh and shake my head. “Enjoy yourselves while you’re here.” I take a few steps back and casually check the area to make sure no one is close by. “You mentioned you know Jack. Do you guys go way back?”