by Max Monroe
“How long?” he asks, a bit of panic in his voice that nearly makes me laugh.
Tiny is a simple guy who likes simple thinking. He likes working at Shaw Springs because, for the majority of the year, his days are predictable—dependable, even. But the chaos of this event always sends him into a tailspin, even when things are going according to plan. There are too many unknowns, too many decisions that have to happen on the fly, and mostly, too many damn people.
Tiny has known and loved horses for fifty years. And that’s it. Anything else is beyond foreign territory.
“Fifteen minutes,” I tell him before hanging the mic of the radio on the hook and popping open the door to my truck.
I toss my now-empty mug on the passenger floorboard and spin to climb out with a smile. All in all, the day isn’t going too bad. I prepared to have gone through four mugs of coffee at this point, so two is really pretty good, and despite the fear in Tiny’s voice, we haven’t even had any issues this morning.
The animals have stayed in their pens, setup is getting finalized, and the guests of the ranch are ensconced in all sorts of activities to keep them busy until it’s go time. If it weren’t for the fact that the vendors only show up the day-of to set up, we might have been ahead of time. As it is, though, I’ve got fifteen food trucks to greet and stage, a whole group of rodeo folks to herd, and a volunteer staff I have to make sure is ready to handle the influx of everyone who’s not staying on the ranch.
Guests are outfitted with armbands that give them access to everything with their stay, but everyone else has to pay an entry fee and get marked as they come inside the gates.
I grab my brace from the bed of the truck and strap it on since I’m not in the mood to get yelled at by a feisty doctor, and I only took it off for the drive. Once my leg is secured, I head toward the barn down below, where a group of guests has gathered for their horseback riding orientation and horse selection with Rodney.
As it happens, it seems Leah is up to bat for her turn with selection.
I smile when I see she ends up with Saunders and watch as my daughter walks him around by the lead line.
He’s one of our most bulletproof horses at the ranch. He’s had kids, elderly, brats, and screamers on his back, and not once has he reacted adversely. He takes his role as a caretaker seriously and wears his nickname “The Babysitter” quite well.
I have zero doubts Leah will be just fine on him, no matter how little experience she has. Even if she decided to stand up and do the polka on his back, he’d take it.
Still, I can see she’s feeling somewhat tense just from the number of times she’s nodded at Rodney in a fifteen-second span, and I laugh as Joey sinks her head into her hands dramatically while listening.
Obviously, Leah must be putting on quite the show of commentary.
I walk slowly toward them as Leah steps up to Saunders’s side with Rodney and waits while he puts the stair steps down in front of her.
Cautiously, she puts a foot in the stirrup and lifts her body up onto the saddle as instructed. She’s nervous, though, I can tell by the pink of her cheeks and the shake in her arms.
Even though I’ve made it within hearing distance, I suddenly have the desire to step even closer—to provide comfort—but given the fact that she doesn’t know I’m here watching, it doesn’t seem like the most viable of options.
Instead of kicking her leg over Saunders’s back and mounting all the way, she leans her body into the saddle and freezes, clutching at Saunders’s mane and the cantle of the saddle. She might as well be Elsa for how well she’s doing an impression of ice.
Obviously, a dad can’t watch Frozen six hundred fucking times without knowing who Elsa is.
“What’s a’matter?” Joey asks from her place holding the lead line. “You stuck ’er somethin’?”
“No. Well, yes. Frozen in terror, I suppose,” Leah mutters to the crowd and my perplexed daughter. Rodney steps forward then, a smile on his face and eagerness in his bounce.
Reaching up, he places a hand to the back of her left thigh and squeezes, and my chest locks up so damn tight I can barely breathe. I’m not entirely sure why, but the urge to intervene is suddenly damn potent.
“Go on, Miss Leah,” Rodney says congenially. “Saunders isn’t goin’ anywhere, and I’ll hold you steady from here. Just swing your right leg up and over.”
Leah’s head shakes back and forth rapidly. “I, um… No. I don’t think I can. I need to get down.”
Rodney chuckles good-naturedly and squeezes her thigh again, and before I know it, I’m standing next to him, gently pulling him out of the way.
“Hey there, Rhett,” Rodney says, clearly surprised, and Leah’s head whips around at the sound of my name, her dark hair flying up and out like a dramatic fan.
I want to be angry that I’m suddenly doing things outside the bounds of my normal control—making moves without any thought or restraint—but unfortunately, the real fear in her eyes is enough to calm any would-be embers on the inside of me.
“It’s all right, darlin’,” I find myself saying with a gentleness I normally reserve for kids. “Saunders here is like an old grandma. Sweet as pie and gentle as hell. He won’t hurt you, no matter what you do.”
She shakes her head again, and I smile. “Just swing your leg on up there. It’ll feel better once you’re settled in the seat and you’ve got both feet in the stirrups.”
“But that’ll mean I’ll be on him.”
Rodney and I both chuckle, and I try to ignore the overwhelming urge to tell him to get the hell out of here. The source of my inconvenient jealousy or not, he’s just doing his job.
“That’s kind of the point, Leah.”
“I just…I don’t know that horses are for me, you know? Certain people are horse people, and then other people are definitely, like, hamster people. I think I’m a hamster person, personally.”
I shake my head with a smile at how funny she is.
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. Hell, Joey’s not gonna let anything happen to ya either. You’re surrounded by horse people, darlin’, and if you just relax, I think you could be one too.”
Finally, Leah takes a deep breath and loosens her clinging hands. I reach up and put my hand where Rodney’s once was, and terrifyingly, I do not feel anger. I don’t feel frustration. I don’t even feel apathy. I feel—too damn much of an emotion I’m completely unwilling to name.
Carefully, I pull my hand back and put it to Saunders’s neck to give him a rub and a pat instead. I swear the look he gives me out of the corner of his eye is a knowing one. Horse sense is a thing, but I never knew it applied to this.
Shaking visibly, Leah finally kicks her right leg up enough to crest the saddle, and she lays over into the horn, clasping it with both hands for dear life.
I chew my lip and tip my hat to hide my face as amusement washes over me.
“I can’t believe you’ve been here almost an entire month without gettin’ up on a horse before. How the hell did you manage that?” I comment, looking up at her in the saddle.
“With careful avoidance,” she responds cheekily, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Are you gonna ride with us, Daddy?” Joey asks, the hope in her voice nearly enough to kill any mortal man. But I know I don’t have time, and frankly, if Leah has anything to say about it, I don’t really have permission either.
“I wish I could, baby girl. But I gotta go over to the exhibition arena and help make sure everything’s going okay. Tiny’s probably in the middle of a panic attack as we speak.”
Joey smiles a knowing smile, having literally grown up around Harry “Tiny” Minnow.
“We’ve got a lot goin’ on here tonight, but next time Leah gets on a horse, I promise to ride with y’all, doll.”
Leah looks down at me and mouths the word never.
It’s funny enough to make me chuckle, and when I turn away toward Rodney, his eyebrows are nearly inside his hairline.<
br />
“What?” I ask him, to which he shakes his head. “What?” I say again.
He groans but finally states, “It’s just…you seem happier than normal, is all.”
“What?”
He shrugs, but the rest of what he leaves unspoken is pretty damn clear, regardless. He thinks Leah Levee is influencing my mood for the better. In fact, he’s probably even assuming it’s because we’re sleeping together.
Normally, I’d discredit those kinds of thoughts immediately. But given the fact that I’m about to leave him alone with her again, and the image of his hand on her thigh is burned on the side of my brain, maybe it’s not such a bad thing if he’s got some assumptions.
I shrug back at him then, and I can’t seem to stop myself from reaching up and patting Leah’s thigh pointedly as I say goodbye. “I’ll see you girls over by the exhibition, okay?”
Joey nods, and Leah assures me verbally, “Yes. Go. We’ve got everything covered here. As long as I survive this ride, that is.”
“You’re gonna be fine, Leah!” Joey insists, adorably exasperated.
I laugh and lift my shoulders. “See that? The expert has spoken.”
“Oh God. The expert is smart, I’ll give you that, but she’s also five.”
“You’re gonna be fine, darlin’,” I say softly, leaning up toward her enough so that she’s the only one who can hear me. “If not, all these people’ll answer to me.”
Knowing if I don’t tear myself away now, I never will, I leave that as my parting line and make my way back toward the truck to head over to the arena.
I don’t know what’s going on with me the last couple of days, but the more time that passes, the more it seems like the pyrotechnics tonight won’t be the only fireworks on this ranch this summer.
I sling the last of the temporary fencing into the bed of my truck and dust off my hands before leaning down and adjusting my brace.
I’m tired, but overall, my leg feels good. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to say that without the help of my brace taking some of the stress of the day off it, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to admit that aloud anytime soon.
It’s better if I don’t do anything to swell Dr. Leah’s ego up any bigger.
Something pokes me in the ribs, and I turn around, expecting to see any face but the one I do. Safe to say, after yesterday, I really thought I was done seeing this face altogether.
“Hey, Rhett. In a better mood today?” Anna asks with a wink and a smile as I stand up straight again and lean into the bed of my truck to keep my distance.
“Hey, Anna,” I greet, clenching my jaw against the annoyance I feel every time I see her. I’d rather have nothing to do with her at all, but after what Chase said yesterday, I’m starting to wonder if the key to ending all this shit really is to just act like I don’t give a fuck.
“Lookin’ good as always, even with the bum leg. I almost forgot about what happened to ya when I saw ya yesterday since you weren’t wearin’ the brace.”
I glare at Chase as he comes to a stop behind her, clearly having been moving at a jog, and he shakes his head swiftly, hooking a thumb at Cutter, who slides to a stop beside him. Apparently, he’s the one with the big mouth and lack of respect for when to keep it shut, but I guess I’ll at least give them both credit for their hustle. It seems she got loose, and they were trying to run her down. I just wish they’d managed it before she got to me.
“I meant to come by after it happened, see if y’all needed any help,” Anna continues, “but rodeo season’s been real busy, ya know?”
I nod, just for the sake of peacekeeping and not making a scene at Shaw Springs’s biggest event of the year, but the truth is, I don’t know. I spent plenty of time on the circuit fucking around and drinking and all sorts of other shit, but I didn’t have a daughter at the time. When something is important, there’s plenty of time to be found. Anna just doesn’t want to find it.
Something catches my eye over the top of her shoulder, and when I realize what—or who—it is, I don’t even bother dismissing myself before stepping around her and walking toward them.
Leah smiles at Joey and laughs out loud at something she says before reaching down and playfully pulling at one of Joey’s sweet pigtail braids. Obviously done by Leah this morning before they left the house, it’s a hairdo dream come true for my little girl.
I’ve tried to braid her hair before, but it’s never quite turned out. I don’t know if my fingers are too damn big or if I’m just not doing something right, but seeing her beaming like she is now makes me think I need to give it another try.
After all, I’ll be the only option once Leah’s gone back to the city.
I rub at my chest, tight from the stress of the day, I’m sure, and smile as the girls finally make it over to me.
“Well, what do we think? Are we a horse person or a hamster person?” I ask with a laugh.
Joey giggles, and Leah smiles. “The horse wasn’t so bad. I’m willing to give it another try, just to see if the abject terror lessens.”
“Riding Saunders is like riding a Cadillac. You can’t tell me he didn’t take care of you.”
“He did. You’re right. But we’re still in the ‘getting to know you’ phase. No man I’ve ever met is the same on date three as he is on dates one and two. Only time will tell how Saunders and I are going to get along.”
I chuckle. “Makes sense, I suppose.”
“It does.”
“When you’re crazy,” I add, and she sticks out her tongue, which makes Joey laugh again.
“Come on, let’s get over to the bleachers. If we don’t, I don’t think there are gonna be any seats left.”
Joey reaches up for Leah’s hand with her right hand and then does the same with mine on her left. Together, as a group of three, we make our way over to the side of the arena where the opening ceremonies of the exhibitions are beginning.
It hits me then, how much has changed in a month. Not only have I gone from avoiding Leah like the plague to purposely spending time with her, but my Joey almost looks like a new little girl, there’s so much light inside her.
I look over her head to Leah and smile.
“I didn’t get to mention it before, but I like your boots. Never thought I’d see the day you put ’em on,” I comment with a chuckle.
She sticks out her foot and turns it from side to side jauntily as we walk, almost like she’s doing some sort of line dancing jive. “I know! They’re your mom’s. She said she had a spare pair she never wears and then just gave them to me when we stopped there this morning to get a fresh outfit for Joey. I seriously can’t believe how nice your family is sometimes.”
“They’re only nice when they like you,” I correct, and that makes a smile the size of Texas bloom on the surface of her face.
“You think they like me?”
“More than they like me, darlin’,” I tease, making both her and Joey laugh.
“Daddy!”
“I’m just teasin’, baby,” I correct before mouthing over her head to Leah, “Not really.”
Leah laughs again but tries to smother it with her free hand. I try not to watch, but I can’t help myself. Her face is alive and free and alight with humor—all things I never expected it to be when she first arrived here.
She’s beautiful always, but today, it seems like there’s something magical in the combination of her dark chestnut hair and midnight-blue eyes.
Which is probably why I’m caught off guard when a hand presses into my chest to stop my forward motion. I’m officially tired of being touched by people without giving my permission, and my temper swells and bubbles under the surface when I look up to meet the eyes of the offender.
Worn gray hair and weathered skin around hazel eyes, Clay Walker looks to be every bit of who he is—Chase Walker’s daddy, and the man whose bronc started this whole damn story.
July 3rd, Saturday
Leah
A second ago, we were wal
king. Now we’re not, and a man I don’t know has his hand on Rhett’s chest.
There’s tension in the air, and I find myself holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Joey, however, upon looking up to see who it is, is unfazed.
“Mr. Walker!” she shouts, which prompts him to move the hand from Rhett’s chest and hold it down low so Joey can give it five instead.
“Well, hello there, Josephine. How’s everything? Did ole Tex put you in charge of the ranch yet?”
She giggles, and at the sound of it, the rocks in my shoulders finally give way. There’s a hint of contention here—the way Rhett is still looking at him with a touch of uncertainty assures it—but at the base of it all, this is a good guy. The high five and cute talk with Joey have proven it.
And that, I can work with.
“Daddy, can I go sit with Granny?” Joey asks, pulling free of our hands and speed-hustling toward a waving Jenny before Rhett can even answer. He rolls his eyes and says to her retreating back, “Sure thing, baby doll. Thanks for asking.”
His sarcasm is nearly as thick as his muscled forearms.
The unknown Mr. Walker smiles slightly at that but doesn’t make any move to relieve us of his company, so after a small sigh, Rhett completes the formal introductions, if only under minor duress.
“Leah, this is Clay Walker. Clay, this is Dr. Leah Levee.”
“Doctor, huh? You the one Tex brought in to babysit Rhett?” Clay asks with a wink that makes Rhett’s jaw go hard and his eyes shift away.
I force a smile and nod, all while sticking out my hand for him to shake.
The thing is, we all know he’s teasing, but I imagine out here in the rough country of Utah, men spend so much of their time trying to be tough that any insinuation against their manhood is a hard pill to swallow. Not because they think women are inferior—pretty much the opposite from what I’ve seen. It’s just that they carry a very heavy burden on their shoulders, wanting to be the one to ensure their families and property are taken care of with the utmost respect.
Being talked down to, no matter the subject matter or the person doing it, never feels good. The only thing I can do is try to move the conversation along.
