by A. J. Wynter
As the darkness of night met the first hint of the sun on the horizon, they made their way back to the ranch. By the time they reached the barn, the dry heat had warmed their clothes, but Russell’s jeans were the worst kind of damp, and he couldn’t wait to get them off.
“I’m spent,” Syd said as they closed the gate. “Do you think Floyd would mind if I took a little nap before we start at it again?” Syd said through a yawn.
“Well, that won’t fly for us boys, but you seem to have your own set of rules,” Russ quipped before he could stop himself. He saw Syd’s body stiffen and she took an almost imperceptible step backward. He cleared his throat, “I mean, you’ll probably want to clear it with Floyd, is all,” Russ said, softening his tone.
“I’ll see you at breakfast,” he muttered and headed off to the bunkhouse with a wide stride, an attempt to minimize the chafing his wet Wranglers were inflicting on his thighs. He heard Sydney sigh and paused mid-stride, hesitated, and then turned to face Sydney. When they were out riding, she felt like a contemporary, but back at the barn she only reminded him of everything he couldn’t have. His eyes met hers and the rush from their kiss came back to him, her soft lips, the way his cock could’ve burst the zipper on his jeans, but what really stuck with him was the way he felt next to her on that rock. Easy was the only way to describe it, and now, here he was, being an asshole to the only woman he had felt both equally comfortable and uncomfortable around. “Good work last night,” he tipped his hat to her and strutted off as best as he could.
**
“Mmmm. Thick,” Russell said to himself as he slurped back Mary’s coffee. Her brew was thick and strong, just what he needed to get through the day. He loaded up his plate with scrambled eggs and bacon and dropped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. He heard the door open and yelled, “We got any mayo?” he was intending on making a few breakfast sandwiches.
“I think I saw some in there,” a voice replied. It wasn’t Mary. Russell turned around to see Sydney walk into the kitchen. He dropped the butter knife he was holding, and it clattered into the sink. She was wearing jeans. Jeans that were just the right kind of tight, the kind that would let her ride, but still show off her fine strong curves. Her red and white checked western style shirt was tucked in, and her long hair wound into a braid that hung down over her shoulder, its tail brushing her breast pocket.
“You google cowgirl.com to get that outfit?” Russ said, picking up the knife.
Sydney opened the fridge and smiled at Russell, tossing him the jar of mayonnaise. He snatched it out of the air, “Easy now.”
“Are you always this pleasant in the morning?” she asked, taking a seat at the table.
Russ was impressed. He thought, for sure, Sydney would be back in her, or rather his, bed, getting her beauty sleep. “I thought that you were going to have a little ‘nap’,” Russell said, taking the seat across from Sydney.
“I got a second wind,” she smiled and took a bite of her bacon.
“What I meant to say is—” Russell was interrupted as Eddie and Carter shuffled into the kitchen.
“Morning,” they said in unison.
“Morning,” Syd and Russell replied.
“Great riding last night,” Eddie said. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a lady ride as good as Russ.” He elbowed Carter and they both proceeded to pile their plates mountain high with food.
“Oooh, them’s fightin’ words,” Carter said.
Russ felt his face go red. The two ranch hands sat down and started hoovering their breakfasts.
“What was it that you meant to say?” Syd asked.
“Ah, nothing. I forget,” Russ mumbled. He stood up, “You finished?” he asked Syd. She nodded, and he took her plate, as well as his and loaded them into the dishwasher.
“Thank you,” Sydney replied.
Eddie and Carter looked to Sydney and Russell and then exchanged knowing looks wth each other.
“What time did you get the horses back?” Carter asked.
“We were just behind you guys,” Russ lied.
“Mmhmm,” Eddie said. “That why you rolled in at dawn?”
Russ ignored the quip and headed out of the kitchen, nearly knocking Floyd over in the doorway.
“Easy now,” Floyd joked, holding onto the doorframe. “I was looking for you,” Floyd said. “You too,” he pointed to Sydney. “Come with me.”
The three walked out to the porch. Floyd turned to Sydney and Russell, “You two work well together.”
Sydney felt her face flush red. Russ cleared his throat.
“We do,” he said.
“The boys have been making good progress on their work. Would the two of you kill each other if I asked you to work together with the horses?”
Sydney couldn’t believe her ears.
“Sir, I think that would be good for the horses.”
“Well. then, get going you two,” Floyd said, making a shooing motion with his hands and Russ could’ve sworn that he saw a twinkle in his eye.
“Russ?” Sydney stopped in her tracks, “What were you going to say to me in the kitchen?”
“Oh.” Russ’s face seemed to flush, and he looked down to the ground. Then he looked up and met Sydney’s eyes with his, “I meant to tell you that this looks good on you,” he reached out with his free hand to grasp Sydney’s long blond braid, letting its length run through his fingers until they reached the loose strands. “Ranch life suits you.”
Chapter 19 – Sydney
Two months later.
Russ sauntered out to the front porch with a couple of beer bottles slung between his fingers. Sydney was leaning against one of the posts fanning herself with a blue handkerchief.
“Thanks,” she smiled at Russ as he popped the cap off of the beer by slamming it on the arm of a chair. The cold beer felt like the most refreshing elixir she ever drank. They had been working with the horses since dawn and had been able to get a saddle on one of the more ornery boys.
She reached her hand up and intertwined her fingers between Russell’s. It was too hot to fully hold hands, palm to palm, but she wanted to be touching him.
The screen door creaked as Floyd joined them on the porch and they jerked their hands apart. Floyd leaned up against the paint-peeled railing and crossed his arms.
A myriad of things ran through Sydney’s mind, could Floyd sense the blossoming romance between the two of them? Was she about to be fired?
“How are we doing with them ‘stangs?” he asked.
Sydney looked to Russell, waiting for him to speak, but he simply nodded his head at her, giving her the floor.
“I, I mean, we, have made great progress with three of the horses, and we got a saddle on another one the other day. It will only be a matter of time before we are riding him, and there are two others that aren’t too far behind. We’ve found it easier to focus on a few horses at a time, their calm demeanor seems to calm down the rest of the herd.
Floyd rubbed the scruff on his chin and smiled at Sydney, “So, you and Russ been working well together?”
“Yes, sir. Seems like the two of us together have the perfect energy for working with the horses. When we do it alone, it doesn’t seem to work as well,” Russ said and took a drink of his beer.
“I’ve seen a huge change in Applesauce,” Floyd said, smiling. “You two done good work.”
Sydney beamed. This wasn’t what she was expecting, and it filled her chest with pride. She sneaked a glance at Russell and blushed when his eyes simultaneously sneaked a look at her.
“Word’s gotten out,” Floyd said clearing his throat. “The Tillers have some unruly barrel racers and they’ve been asking about you, Sydney.”
“Really?” Sydney asked, surprised.
“The barrel-racing Tillers?” Russell asked, kicking at the worn floorboards of the deck.
“That’s them,” Floyd replied. He took the toothpick out of his mouth and leveled his glare on Sydney. “They want you
to do a… What did they call it again? A consultation.”
Sydney looked to Russell, he smiled and nodded at her. “Do it. It’s a great opportunity for you. They’re one of the wealthiest ranch families in the county, and they’re serious about their rodeos. I’ve heard that they pay more than anyone in the country for horse training.”
“Really?” Sydney felt butterflies crop up in her stomach. “But, I wouldn’t want it to impact my work here with your horses, Floyd,” Sydney replied.
“We could work somethin’ out, I’m sure,” Floyd smiled. “Like Russ said, it’s a great opportunity for you.”
“I’ll do it on one condition,” she said.
“Oh, and what’s that?” Floyd asked.
“Russell has to come with me. We are a package deal.” She saw Russell’s head snap back at her statement, clearly taken aback by her terms.
Floyd looked between the two of them and uncrossed his arms, stretching his legs out in front of him, “Sounds fair. That is, if Russ wants to do it.”
“I do.” Russ smiled.
“You’d be crazy not to,” Floyd replied, pushing himself to a fully standing position. “They’re expecting you tomorrow morning,” he said and turned and walked away.
“What does this mean?” Sydney asked Russ in a hushed voice.
“The man’s pretty deaf, so there’s no need to whisper,” Russ grinned at her. “It means that if the Tillers like us, we could get the gig training their horses. They have a few ranches across the country. It might even mean traveling with the rodeo.
Sydney imagined herself riding in the front of a truck towing horses across the country, the warm air blowing through the cab, the excitement of the riders, the whole vagabond nature of the traveling rodeo, and it felt like the most exciting thing she could imagine.
“That would be incredible.”
“It is,” Russell replied, a far-off look in his eye. “Nothing compares to the community and companionship of competitive rodeo.”
Sydney noticed that as he spoke of the rodeo his hand subconsciously went to the small of his back. She wanted to ask more about his time with the rodeo, but he quickly broke out of his reminiscing, “We’ve got some work to do.”
“I know. There’s so much to do.”
“No. I mean, we’ve got to get you barrel racing.”
“Me?” Sydney said, incredulously. “The rider with the pickle up her butt?”
“Exactly,” Russ grinned and stretched in his chair. “You’re amazing with the horses, Syd,” Russell said, his eyes kind, “but you need to be able to ride like these people.”
“And we’re supposed to do that in one day?” Sydney stood up, brushing the dust that seemed to be never-ending, off her thighs.
“I’ve seen you ride. You’ve got the technical skills, you just need to feel it in your heart and your body.” Russ stood and reached out his hand to Sydney, “Come on, we’ve got some work to do.”
Sydney reached out to grasp Russ’s hand, trying her best hide the trembling she was feeling – a combination of exhilaration for what the future might hold, and the feeling of Russell’s hand clasped around hers.
He stepped toward Sydney and wound his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. Sydney’s heart hammered in her chest as Russ leaned in to place a lingering kiss on Sydney’s lips. She reached up to place her hand on his stubbled cheek, letting the kiss linger. She felt time stand still and could’ve stayed there, on the decrepit front porch, inhaling Russ’s leather and musk scent, but their tender moment was interrupted by the slam of the screen door.
Her eyes snapped open and they both jerked away from each other like they had been electrocuted. Syd heard laughing and turned to face Carter and Eddie standing in the doorway.
“Don’t let us interrupt,” Carter smiled.
“Yeah,” Eddie chimed in. “You don’t have to hide it. It’s been obvious since day one that you two were going to get in the sack together,” he smiled and elbowed Carter.
Sydney felt like her face was on fire and she couldn’t meet either one’s eyes or Russ’s for that matter.
“You guys get outta here and get to work,” Russ said, pointing to the field and shooing the two ranch hands away like toddlers.
Sydney looked to Russ in thanks, and to see if his face was equally as red as hers. He smiled and grabbed her hand, pulling her off the porch. She had heard the saying, and always thought that it was a stupid cliché, but today it made total sense to her: she was walking on air.
As the ranch hands walked down the steps, Sydney overheard Carter whisper to Eddie, “Russ always gets the hot ones.”
Her heart sank, and she felt the cloud of air burst, her feet landing on the ground of reality with a hard and dusty thud.
Chapter 20 – Russell
Those fuckers.
Russell felt Sydney tense up when they made the ‘hot girl’ comment. He pretended not to hear because he didn’t know what to say to her. It had been true. Not so much now, since he wasn’t a bull rider anymore, but whenever they all went out, if Russ wanted to have the hottest girl in the room, he could get her.
He wished that he could pull Sydney in tightly to him, to whisper in her ear that she meant more to him in two months than any girl had ever meant to him in his life. That yes, she was hot, but her strength and determination made her the most beautiful woman he had ever met, that he loved her. But he didn’t. It was too soon.
He gripped her hand a little tighter but noticed that her hand didn’t respond, her fingers lifeless in his. When they reached the barn, he released her hand from his grip and opened up the fence.
“Who’ll it be today?” he asked, gesturing to the horses, knowing full well that she would pick Buttercup.
“Thunder,” Syd said flatly.
Thunder was the biggest and strongest horse on the ranch. Not exactly barrel racing material. “Really?” Russ asked. “He’s not the most agile.”
“I can handle him,” Syd said, reaching for a saddle and pad.
“Suit yourself,” Russ said to her. “I’ll take out Buttercup.”
Once the two horses were saddled up, they walked them out to the training ring. Russ rolled three rusty old barrels out into the center and spaced them widely apart in a triangle shape. “Is that regulation?” Sydney asked.
“Well, I didn’t get out my measuring tape, but it’s close enough to one hundred and five feet.”
“One hundred and five? Who decided that?” Syd asked, mounting Thunder. She stroked his sleek black neck.
“Beats me,” he shrugged. “You’re going to want to loosen up, and remember, that western saddle is deep and is going to give you a lot more support than your English saddle.”
“What’s the pattern?” Sydney asked. Thunder stamped his feet, chomping at his bit.
“I’ll show you,” Russ said. He clicked his tongue and he and Buttercup took off at a trot in a cloverleaf shape around the barrels.” Then they sidled up beside Thunder and Syd.
“That seems simple enough.”
“Go slowly,” Russ shouted as Sydney took off at a gallop, Thunder lived up to his name and shook the ground as he lumbered around the barrels before returning to their spot beside Russ.
“That was good,” Russ said, smiling at Sydney.
“Good?” Sydney replied. “This is easy.”
“Well, Missy, it’s usually done in under fifteen seconds, and it looks more like this,” Russ clicked his tongue and urged Buttercup forward with the heels of his boots. This time they wound through the course at top speed, Buttercup’s mane flying and whipping as they abruptly changed direction, his one hand on the reigns, the other on the saddle horn, balancing the turns and the speed. Russ’s back felt tight, but the aggressive riding felt so good he decided to ignore the warning signs of a spasm.
“Impressive,” Sydney remarked and started off.
“Wait,” Russ said. “Before you and that monster head off like a bull in a china shop, you shoul
d work on your form, and going fast might actually slow you down.”
“How does that even make sense?” Syd asked.
“By going at a slower gait, you can keep your lines straight and your turns tight and accurate. If you’re just galloping like a wild woman, your turns will be huge and the recovery between barrels can sometimes take more time than just trotting it out. Control is important.”
Syd tried the course again and Russ was impressed. Because of Thunder’s size, he wasn’t able to make the tight turns, but Sydney was picking up on the rhythm and timing like a prodigy. He hadn’t even instructed her to use western neck reigning as opposed to her English direct reigning, she just did it naturally. She was going to be good.
They stayed in the ring for the rest of the morning and Syd went from a total beginner to one of the most technically beautiful racers he had seen. If the girl wanted to go on the circuit, she would be winning in no time.
Syd was smiling and laughing and the tension from earlier had totally dissipated. She started getting cocky and as she rounded one of the barrels, she clipped it.
“That’s a five-second penalty!” Russ shouted.
Sydney giggled and shouted, “I’m going to try it again.” And she passed the starting barrel like a bat out of hell and proceeded to knock over the first barrel.
“That’s a disqualification right there. You need to stop trying to go so fast. Take it easy and stop pushing Thunder so hard. You two need to work as a team.” He hopped off Buttercup, landing in a cloud of dust. “Here, Buttercup is rested and ready to go.” Sydney dismounted Thunder and was on Buttercup in the blink of an eye. She clicked her tongue and Buttercup was off. The two of them looked like they had stepped out of a movie. Buttercup’s agility and Syd’s technical riding were a match made in heaven and the run that Russ saw happening in front of his eyes was a thing of beauty. Sydney was made for this.
“Okay, Tiger, let’s end on that run,” he shouted.
“This is so much fun,” Sydney squealed. “I can’t believe I’ve never tried this before.” She hopped off Buttercup, wrapped her arms around her neck and kissed her brown coat. “Thank you, beautiful,” she murmured to the horse. Buttercup nickered, and Russ swore that if a horse could smile, Buttercup was grinning.
