According to Granddad, I’d overstaffed the ranch. But I liked to keep my guys for longer than one season. And I liked to have a clean barn, clean horses and clean equipment.
The tractor he’d been tinkering with had lasted seven years longer than any he’d had in his day. Maybe it was because he was a good mechanic. Or maybe it was because I had insisted on both servicing it before it broke down and keeping it inside, out of the elements.
“What are you doing?” I asked, looking over his shoulder to the John Deere.
“I’m checking the hydraulics on the tractor. If that’s all right with you.”
“Fine,” I gritted out, turned and walked away.
I loved my grandfather, but damn it, working with the man was exhausting.
I couldn’t assign him work. I couldn’t hold him responsible for doing something on a regular basis because he was retired. And because Jake Greer Sr. reported to no one but his wife.
The problem was Granddad didn’t want to be retired. He’d pop in and take over jobs while I was in the middle of them. He’d take work from one of my hands without letting me know. He’d give orders to my staff, sending them in the wrong direction, all because he was bored—something he’d never admit.
Like the hydraulics. I’d already planned on checking them this afternoon. He knew I was going to do it myself because I’d told him yesterday. But did he ask if there was something else I could use his help on? No.
I walked out of the barn and stalked to the stables, my sanctuary. It was twice as big as the barn, and everyone, even Granddad, knew this was my domain. The floors were swept out regularly and every horse’s stall was mucked daily. We kept this place spotless, not only for the animals and my mental state, but because unlike the barn, guests roamed in here often.
As I made my way down the long center aisle, I counted the empty stalls. Most of the animals were out on guest excursions except for three young mares that had been left behind. They didn’t spare me so much as a glance, too busy munching on the grain they’d been given this morning.
Above me, the lofts were full of bales and the florescent lights were shining bright. It smelled like all stables should in my opinion, of horses, hay and hard work.
My gelding Jigsaw popped his head out of his stall the moment he heard my boots on the cement floor. I walked to him, putting my hand on his cheek. “How do you feel about doing some work today?”
He nuzzled my shoulder, anxious to get outside.
Jigsaw had been my horse since I was eleven. He stood nearly sixteen hands and was a beast of an animal. He was fast and not afraid to work. He’d gotten his name from the puzzle-piece-shaped spot on his right shoulder. Besides that white mark, he was as black as the midnight sky.
I could always count on Jigsaw. He’d never let me down. He never meddled with my schedule. He never talked back.
He never disappeared, only to return out of the blue eleven years later.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” I asked my horse.
He flicked up his nose, butting against my head.
“Yeah, we’ll get going soon.” I stroked the bridge of his nose and left him to get myself ready.
My office was located in the stables, beside the tack room. Dad had suggested I use the corner office in the lodge, the one opposite Katherine’s, because more and more, I found myself behind a desk.
It would make things more efficient if I was sitting inside where I could talk to Katherine in person rather than call her twelve times a day. But I liked my cramped office in the stables. I liked that I could watch the trainers and the hands interact with the horses and the guests. I could witness who had the patience to take groups out on trail rides and who would be better suited for ranch maintenance.
And I liked working with the smell of horses and leather and dirt in the air.
But it meant when I needed to talk to Katherine, I had to call. When she didn’t answer, I’d trek to the lodge for a cup of coffee and pop by her office.
Running into Gemma Lane had nearly knocked me on my ass.
I swiped my phone from my desk and shoved it into a jeans pocket. Then I grabbed a pair of leather gloves from the top of a file cabinet and took my Stetson off the set of deer antlers I used as a hat hook. I needed to get out of here and get some air. Think this over.
“Hey, boss.” Rory appeared in the doorway, bouncing from foot to foot.
“Hey.” I put the hat on my head. “What’s up?”
“I’m all done with the stalls for the day, and I’m ready to help on the tractor.”
Rory was the son of one of our longtime housekeepers. As a single mom, she’d worked hard to provide for her son. He’d just turned eighteen and had graduated from high school this past spring. His mom’s dream was for him to go to college. Rory’s was to work on this ranch.
So I’d hired him. The kid soaked up everything we could teach him. He didn’t bitch about the shit—literal—jobs. And if there was a chance for him to do something with the equipment, he was all over it.
I’d promised him yesterday he could shadow me as I worked on the tractor.
“Change of plan. Jake is working on the tractor today. He said he’d love to have your help.”
“Okay, cool. Thanks.”
“When you’re done, take lunch. Then we’ll wait for the trail rides to get back in. I’m going to check the fence on the south side. Just hang out and help the guys with the horses when they get back.”
“Will do.” He jogged out the door.
Rory jogged everywhere. His energy was impossible to contain and he always had a slew of questions.
Those questions would drive Granddad, a guy who preferred to work in silence, nuts.
I chuckled.
“What are you laughing about?” My brother, Cash, strode into the office.
“I sent Rory to help Granddad service the tractor.”
He laughed too. “You’ll pay for that later.”
“Worth it.” I grinned. “I thought Katherine had you out with the guests this morning.”
“The folks staying in the Beartooth Chalet canceled their ride. They decided to hike up the ridge and take some pictures since the weather’s good. We’ll ride tomorrow.”
I swiped another pair of gloves from the pile of my spares. “Good. Then you can help me.”
“What are we doing?” he asked as I slapped the gloves into his chest and eased past him out the door.
“Fencing.”
“I knew I should have gone to see Grandma instead of coming out here.”
I walked to the wall where my saddle was draped over a thick wooden post. I pulled off a saddle blanket and grabbed a currycomb, then went to Jigsaw’s stall. I’d planned on just taking a survey and noting damage today, but if Cash was free, we’d tackle the repairs too.
“Do you want to ride or take the truck?” I asked.
“I’ll take the truck,” he grumbled. “Since obviously you’re going to ride.”
I didn’t feel bad for making Cash drive. He spent three times as long as I did on horseback, and he could be behind the wheel for a change.
It didn’t take me long to get Jigsaw saddled and outside. The crisp fall air filled my lungs and he pranced on his feet, anxious to get out in the open. My horse loved to run, but he’d been trained to wait. When I left him standing in a spot, his reins not secured, he stood and waited.