by Delta James
“Get this shit taken care of and then get your ass home. That bride had a major rack. When you blow me I want your tits showing. Can’t decide whether to shoot my load on yours or on your face as I originally planned.”
Jason slapped her ass and groped her breast, tweaking her nipple before jumping out of the van, never once offering to help.
Melody forced herself to focus on her breathing—in and out, in and out. Just a few more hours and she’d be winging her way away from him. He could keep the business; she was done with it. He had taken her dream and littered it with waste and disillusionment. He could have what was left.
She was focused on nailing the interview with Sierra Malone tomorrow afternoon. She’d been studying books on horses, cattle, and western riding. She knew little about horses and even less about cattle. She had tried riding English when she was younger, but had been thrown and nearly trampled by the horse. Despite everyone telling her she could, she had refused to get back on the horse and had been terrified of the huge animals ever since. But that didn’t matter. She was going to get this job and then figure out how to work around horses.
She was running late by the time she got the van packed and back to their warehouse. She’d been worried about getting it unloaded and making her flight and decided that Jason could bloody well unload the thing himself. The thought of that made her smile.
She was through the TSA checkpoints when her phone began to blow up with repeated calls and text messages. Jason wanted to know where she was and why she wasn’t home yet. Nothing in any of his messages asked if she was all right or if he could help.
What came across loud and clear was that he was horny and hungry and expected her to take care of both for him. Instead of being worried or afraid, Melody found she was quite pleased with herself—the first time she’d felt that way in a long time.
She went into the restroom and disassembled her phone. She dropped the actual phone itself in the restroom garbage and then chucked the battery in the garbage of one of the fast food restaurants within the airport terminal.
One of the first things she’d done when she’d made the decision to leave Jason and build a new life was to go to a different mobile provider and establish a separate number and account. It was that number and that phone from which she’d made her plans to meet with Sierra Malone.
Melody boarded the plane heading west and made herself comfortable in the window seat directly behind the divide between first class and business class. She’d originally planned to fly economy, but when she’d called to confirm her reservation and seat, the nice phone attendant told her she could upgrade for fifty dollars and that it would include one checked bag. She upgraded. She had one checked bag, her carryon, and her purse. The rest of her things she’d shipped out earlier that week. Most of her things she would be leaving behind, but that was a conscious choice she’d made as she felt as though she was shedding the skin of her old life.
She was able to nap on the flight and arrived in Boise feeling relaxed, refreshed, and renewed. She collected her bag from baggage claim and went to the car rental agency. She was able to select a small SUV for her journey to meet Sierra Malone and embrace her new life.
Melody had accepted Sierra’s invitation to stay at the venue itself and had been given very specific instructions as to how to get there. Driving to Crooked Creek Ranch was enjoyable. It was a lovely spring day. Melody had the sunroof open and heat turned up to enjoy the bright sunshine and fresh air. After the cold, snowy Chicago winter, the drive alone was worth the trip.
She pulled into the ranch’s driveway and was amazed to see actual cowboys moving cattle on horseback. She took a deep breath. She was not going to allow her fear to ruin her chance. While Sierra hadn’t actually offered her a job, she had made it clear that this in-person interview with Sierra and her husband was a bit of a formality.
Pulling into the ranch proper, she could see a large barn and corrals with lots of horses. She intended to find out if any of them were really friendly so that she could come up with a plan to rid herself of her fear. Melody refused to let fears from her past stop her from making a future for herself. She’d managed to get away from Jason and had some money put aside, but only for about three months and only then if she lived very frugally. She needed this job, but more important, she wanted it.
Melody parked her SUV next to the line of pickup trucks and gathered her things.
“Ma’am? Can I help you?” said a lanky young cowboy as he approached from the barn.
“Hi, I’m Melody Jackson. I’m meeting with Mrs. Malone tomorrow about the job opening here.”
He laughed. “Not as a ranch hand I take it?”
Melody laughed as well. “No, as the wedding and guest coordinator. I was told I could stay up at the house.”
“No problem, let me help you with those bags.”
He walked over and picked them up, showing her up to the main house.
Melody turned to look at the scenery. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, ma’am. This is God’s country and working for the Malones is the best.”
An older woman walked out of the kitchen. “Eddie, you put Miss Jackson’s things in the room to the left at the top of the stairs. Miss Jackson, I’m Ruth. Sierra wasn’t available this afternoon to meet you so I came to welcome you and ask if you’d like to join us for dinner this evening. Nothing fancy, just family.”
“I’d like that a great deal. And please, call me Melody. How do I get there?”
“One of the next projects on the list is to put in a direct road between Crooked Creek—that’s where we are—and the Flying M, but I can leave you directions or I can get one of the boys to drive you over.”
“Or,” came a deep, heavily French-accented voice, “I would be glad to drive her over when I come. You must be Ms. Jackson. Sierra said to expect you. I’m Luc. I’m the... well, we have yet to decide my official title, but I’m the guy who’s going to head up the breeding operation for the rodeo stock.”
Melody loved the sound of his voice, but more than that the look of the man himself. He wasn’t overly tall, but he was well built and had an open and friendly face. “Melody, please. If I it wouldn’t be too much trouble I’d love to catch a ride.”
“Then it’s settled. What time would you like us, Ruth?” asked Luc, flashing his brilliant smile at Ruth, who returned it with affection.
“Say five-thirty?”
“We’ll be there, won’t we, Melody?”
“Yes, we will. Thank you.”
“Then I’ll leave you in Luc’s capable hands,” said Ruth, smiling at him. “I’m going to head back to the Flying M and get dinner started.”
Ruth left Luc with Melody and headed out the door and back home.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go upstairs and lie down for a bit. It was a long flight.”
Luc smiled. “Can I get you anything?” he asked solicitously.
Melody shook her head.
“Bien. We’re about twenty minutes by car from the Flying M. Head on down to the barn when you’re ready and we’ll leave from there.”
“Thank you, Luc.”
* * *
“My pleasure, Melody,” said Luc as he watched her turn and head up the stairs.
Luc found himself enjoying the view. Melody had a lovely figure—more than that, she moved gracefully but with purpose. And yet, there was something about her... something not quite settled. Perhaps it was the prospect of a new job or perhaps just being here at the ranch. Luc shook his head and headed back down to the barn.
“Luc?” called Eddie as he came out of the barn. “We just got a call about that group of broodmares you bought from Canada. They’ve cleared the US/Canadian border. That should put them down here in about four or five hours. We told them to call back when they were an hour out.”
“Thanks, Eddie. It’s three now so that puts them here about seven or eight. These are going to be draft and draft cross mares. Make sure
the holding corrals are strong. We’ll let them have some time to get settled and then turn them out.”
“Do you think the corral is going to be large enough? If they’re drafts, won’t it be kind of close quarters?”
“Sadly, no. These are PMU mares. With their urine being in less demand, a lot of them are being sold off. They’ve spent most of their lives in a kind of tie stall without being able to move around a lot. Crowded into that corral will make them feel more comfortable. I want to keep them in the small pasture up close to the house. I’d like everybody to try at least once a day to give them a treat, or give them a pet. I want them happy in their new home. That way when they foal they can have a larger space to run, play, and raise their babies.”
“Are we going to sell to the big livestock providers or will we be doing that directly with the rodeos?”
“We’ll be providing directly to some of the larger rodeos. Ryder really thought this through. Between him and me we know all of the major players in the rodeo world. Ryder is well respected and we’ve got folks just waiting for us to be able to supply them with superior stock.”
“So who will be on the road with the stock—you or Ryder?”
“Not sure it will be either of us. I don’t think the boss man is all that interested in being apart from Sierra. And once they start a family, he’s going to want to be home.”
“How about you?”
“The idea of never having to wake up in a bed other than my own again is way too tempting. I suspect we’ll find someone else to train to take the stock out.”
“What are you thinking for stud horses for the broncs?”
Luc smiled. “We’ve got a proven bucking stallion that should be here next week. He’s getting older so not sure how much time we’ll have left before we have to retire him, but he’ll give us a good foundation to build on. I’d love to use that red roan mustang of Sierra’s, but when I floated that idea, she shot it down pretty damn quick. She wants him left wild with his mares and Ryder is going to indulge that whim.”
“Do you blame him? I think the boss man got himself a pretty special wife. She can ride and rope with the best of us, but she’s also there to help Ruth take care of everybody. And she’s beautiful,” he said wistfully.
“I agree. Sierra is a rare woman and Ryder is a lucky man... and knows it. As for other stallions, we’ve got some feelers out, but I heard someone talking about a huge blue roan stallion still on the open range. I’d like to get a look at him and then petition the BLM to see if we can pay them to let us capture him and take him off their hands.”
“He’s around somewhere. I saw him maybe a month ago. Big sucker, nasty bastard. Really aggressive and confrontational. The ranchers around here hate him. He’s busted through more than one fence to get to some purebred mares and it’s hell trying to get them back... if you can.”
“Pass the word to keep your eyes open. Anybody spots him and can give me a lead so I can see him, earns himself a bonus.”
The ranch hand smiled. “Will do. Thanks, Luc.”
“No problem, Eddie. And hey...” Eddie stopped and turned to face him. “You’ve been doing an excellent job since we brought you on board.”
Eddie blushed. “As I said to Miss Jackson, this is a great place to work. I appreciate that y’all hired me.” He turned and went on down to the barn.
Luc grinned. Not only had Ryder snagged himself an exceptional woman, they had managed to put together a first-rate crew—hard working, clean living, and good at their jobs. That wasn’t to say they didn’t occasionally blow off steam, but nobody showed up for work hungover, drunk, or high.
Luc had found over the past few weeks that he really enjoyed working with Charlie. The two had gone over the strengths, weaknesses, and preferences of the ranch hands who worked at each ranch. After taking those things into consideration, they’d begun dividing the men between the two operations. Ryder had a boyhood friend, Andy, who’d been with the Flying M for a while. Ryder, Charlie, and Luc all thought he might be a good man to train to be in charge of rodeo stock on the road. Once they were closer to sending animals to various rodeos, the plan was to allow any of their ranch hands to apply for the road manager job.
Luc continued down to his office. The first week he’d been with the operation, Luc had converted one of the large tack rooms into an office for himself that also had a small kitchenette and comfortable bed so if anyone needed to be out in the barn with a sick animal, it would be convenient and everything would be contained. He also liked having his office down where all the action was. It made him more easily accessible to the men and able to lend a hand if something came up.
He was reviewing the pictures and pedigree of a Dutch Warmblood mare. The owners were looking to find her a new home. She had a suspensory ligament injury that would prevent her from being rideable. She wasn’t in any pain, but just would no longer be useable. The people in question didn’t have a breeding operation and had been unable to find anyone interested in purchasing her as a broodmare. She was a pretty thing and they didn’t want much for her—just more than what she’d bring if they sold her through the kill pen.
“Luc?” He heard the feminine call.
He looked up and shook his head. He’d gotten too caught up in his paperwork again. He was becoming notorious about it.
“In here, Melody. I’ll be right with you.”
He came out of the office and watched her as her back was turned. There was definitely something uneasy about her, but Luc couldn’t put his finger on it. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”
“That’s no problem. I’m probably early. I’m chronically early.”
Luc smiled. “And I am forever running behind trying to catch up. It’s a bad trait I keep hoping I can cure, but so far no luck. Are you ready?”
“I am. Can I ask you... am I dressed okay? I mean she said just family.”
Luc chuckled, taking her arm and tucking it through his. “You look great. And it is just family as we loosely define it around here.”
He opened the door to his truck and helped her in. He got in, started it up, and headed for the Flying M.
“So let me give you the rundown. Ruth and Charlie have been with the Flying M for decades, literally. Both of them helped Sierra’s father raise her as her mother died shortly after she was born. Ryder grew up on Crooked Creek. Both ranches are heritage ranches...”
“Meaning they’ve been in the same family for generations, right?”
“Correct. In both cases for close to two hundred years. Ryder and Sierra were originally supposed to get married a number of years ago, but they had a huge fight and broke up. When Sierra’s father was dying he contacted Ryder and they cooked up a scheme to get Ryder and Sierra back together. I know Ryder from when I was a bullfighter...”
He stopped as he saw the look of disgust on her face, mistakenly assuming he meant like the matadors in Spain and Mexico.
“Not that kind of bullfighter. It’s another name for a rodeo clown. We distract stock, mostly bulls, intent on hurting cowboys. So instead of the sparkly, skin-tight outfits of the matador, we wear floppy pants, big shirts, and silly hats—anything that will distract the bull. Probably a good thing. I’m not so sure anyone wants to see me in toreador pants.”
“I think you’d look fine in a pair of tight pants.” Melody blushed as she realized she’d said out loud what she’d been thinking. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate.”
Luc laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment. You’ll find on a ranch, we’re a lot more laid back about most things than the corporate world.”
“How do you know I didn’t grow up on a ranch?” she asked defensively.
“Did you?”
“Well, no, but you didn’t know that.”
“No, but I assumed. And my assumption was better than yours that I was a matador.”
“Not if I want a job on a ranch. I’d think that would be an advantage.”
“We can teach you anythi
ng about living and working on a ranch you need to know. I think Sierra’s looking for someone who knows weddings and how to deal with people... with guests. And something tells me she feels like she’s found the right person.”
“I hope so. I really want and need this job.”
“Not that I think you’ll need it,” said Luc gently, “but do you have a backup plan in case you don’t get it?”
“Not a plan per se, but I have some money saved up and I can turn my hand to most things. It’s just that this would be so perfect.”
“How so?”
“I’ve been a wedding planner for a while and really enjoy it. I know I’m good at it. And look around... this place is gorgeous. I can really see people wanting to come for a destination-type wedding where they don’t need to use a passport.”
Luc nodded. “I agree. And we’re starting to buy a variety of horses of various skill levels to offer two different types of ranch experiences—one where you just come and we take you out on day-long trail rides. The second where you can actually come and be part of a working ranch—move cattle, help with branding, that kind of thing.”
“They really are making big plans.”
“They’re being proactive. Both prices for beef and beef consumption are continuing on a downhill trend. Sierra and Ryder recognized independently that for the ranch to grow, they would need to diversify. Sierra had thought of the wedding and guest-based revenue streams while Ryder has the reputation and knowledge to make breeding and providing professional rodeo stock a viable option as well.”
He turned off the main road and headed up the drive to the Flying M. The house at Crooked Creek was a beautiful old farmhouse that Ryder had painstakingly restored when he had returned home, but it did not have the grandeur of the one at the Flying M. The Flying M’s was larger and had been impeccably maintained, updated, and expanded over the years.
“This is stunning,” said Melody.
