by Alexa Davis
“Well, it seems like the whole change in management is new to them, so I’m not sure who will be calling the shots,” I finally added. “I really hope there’s no, you know, power struggle or contention. I wouldn’t want to be in the middle of that.” I pulled up in front of the salon Freddie worked at and Tracy texted her that we were outside. “What do you think, Trace?” I mused. “Do you think my future will be made this summer?” Tracy laughed and fiddled with the radio stations.
“I don’t see why not!” she laughed and waved at Fredericka, who was staggering towards the car, balancing boxes and bags as she walked. I popped the trunk as Tracy jumped out to help with the packages.
“What, you couldn’t wait to go shopping with us?” I teased her when they got back in the car. “Now what are we going to do after our celebratory lunch?” I turned the car on and took us to the Blue Lemon, one of our favorite lunch spots. Freddie got her second wind while we ate and was able to outspend me and nearly Tracy, as well.
I called my mother as soon as we got home that evening and worked out the details. I was excited to have Freddie taking my place in the apartment while she and Jayden decided if they were ready to move in together.
My parents seemed happy for me, although it did mean I had to skip out on our summer vacation plans. I suggested to Caleb while we face-timed that he ask them for a proper senior trip for his graduation and watched his face light up right before the phone started shaking as he jumped up and down in excitement.
“Scotland!” he shrieked into the camera. For a moment, he was a child again, not a nearly six-foot-two, hundred-eighty-pound man.
“That was my general idea,” I replied. “I would’ve picked somewhere sunny, but hey, different strokes, right, kiddo?” He laughed and the video shook some more. I signed off and started packing clothes. I didn’t think I’d be needing any sun dresses where I was going, so I boxed up everything dainty and pretty and hauled it to the storage closet. I looked at what was left and realized I hadn’t made all that much of a dent in the pile. I seriously considered what that meant about my sense of style and created a new parameter for packing, so that I’d have enough clothing to last the summer with the wear and tear, without taking more than three bags. By the time I had divided everything into appropriate piles, I was exhausted.
I readied myself for bed and slid between the soft, cool sheets and passed out. The next morning, my parents arrived bright and early to help with the boxes. In the end, I had so much to store, I was afraid I’d take up the whole storage space at the apartment, and my dad had come through for me and offered me the upper floor of his garage until I started school again. I rode back to my parents’ house with Caleb, listening to old country songs and talking about how long to wait before he came to visit.
Back at the mom and dad’s house, Skipper attacked me with wild puppy abandon and nearly drowned me in dog slobber from his kisses. Caleb and I took Skipper down to the equestrian center where we boarded the horses, and went for a ride.
I wanted to be sure that Mr. Hargrave’s fears about my fur baby were unfounded, so we took him to be evaluated by a proper dog trainer throughout the week. Other than a slight tendency to be stupid and get under foot of his human companions, Skipper passed with flying colors, but I’d expected nothing less from the young retriever.
The week flew by, and before I knew it, Sunday had arrived again and it was time for a last fling with my friends and family before leaving for the great unknown…or at least, the possibility of the unknown that lay at a gorgeous ranch and lake a mere a two-hour drive outside of Austin. I was thrilled and terrified, and the combination left me feeling numb and slow-witted. I was handed a glass of champagne, but Tracy took it from me before I could drink and handed me a glass of water instead, and slipped me a small, white pill, scored down the center.
“My anxiety meds,” I stated dumbly.
“You looked like you were having one of those silent panic attacks. Your eyes just sort of glazed over and I thought you could use a hand.” She patted my shoulder. “You are doing an amazing thing here, honey,” she said. “You’ve been through a lot and you’re not just carrying on: you’re thriving.”
I agreed with her. I’d gotten farther than I ever thought I would when I was stuck in a hospital bed for two weeks and all the news I got seemed bad. I took the busipirone and drank the water. Tracy turned to go, but I caught her by the arm. I gave her a hug and squeezed her so tight I spilled the last bit of the water. She squealed at the cold water hitting her back, and I laughed so hard I couldn’t apologize.
We rejoined the party and within minutes, I felt more able to talk and laugh with my friends. I spent the remainder of the evening dodging the increasing questioning regarding the younger Mr. Hargrave, whom I was finding had something of a reputation among the long-standing residents of Austin. I had to admit that I could see why they were popular.
I kissed and hugged my friends goodnight, and my parents slipped off to bed while I double checked that I had all the appropriate veterinary paperwork for both Peacemaker and Skipper. It would’ve been bad form to ask them to let me bring my animals with me, then expose their livestock to any illnesses they were carrying. I brushed Peacemaker and promised him a ride as soon as we settled in tomorrow. I looked into his dewy, brown eyes and spared a thought for the eldest Hargrave brother and wondered if he would see the amazing creature that my young racehorse really was.
Chapter Four
Daniel
I heard the trailer coming up the drive long before I saw it. I grabbed my hat and tossed back the last dregs of a disappointing cup of coffee I’d brewed and intended to finish over an hour ago. By the time I stepped out of the cabin, I could see my parents speaking with people I presumed to be Rachel’s family, and I picked up my pace to a light jog.
I skidded to a stop, however, when one of the loveliest, young thoroughbred stallions I’d ever seen came around the corner, rearing and tossing his head. At his reigns, keeping a tight control of him, was Rachel. She looked completely calm and at home with the nervous horse, talking to him and stroking him until he calmed down. He loved her; I could see it in the way he listened to her and his eyes and ears remained fixed on her.
She looked over to where I was standing and her face lit up in a smile. I waved and slowly made my way over to join the group, taking care not to disturb Peacemaker’s calm. I had just reached them when I saw, to my horror, a young, golden retriever bounding up to us and Rachel’s nervous charge. I reached out for Peacemaker’s reigns to help Rachel while simultaneously bracing against the expected bucking.
“Skipper!” scolded Rachel in a hiss as he spun out under Peacemaker’s belly and pranced out, tongue lolling wildly. Peacemaker glared balefully at me out of one eye, but didn’t do more than twitch his withers. “Skipper and Peacemaker are buddies. They have been since we brought little Skip home from the dog shelter,” Rachel explained.
“Yes, they are sweet together,” an attractive lady chimed in. I looked at her pale, brown skin and green-hazel eyes. Rachel’s mother, I guessed. She radiated the same quiet confidence I saw in her daughter, unaware that she affected anyone around her and perfectly content not knowing. I considered some of the women I’d been dating lately and realized that a lot more women could have that particular quality and it would improve the lives of countless men.
I introduced myself to her father, Francisco (call me Frank), and heard my mother mention his wife’s name was Merida. While the two mothers went into the big house, chatting away like old friends, Rachel, our fathers, and the young man I took to be her brother, led Peacemaker to his stall in the stable. Jackson caught up with us, his hair still wild and flat on one side, like he’d just gotten out of bed.
“Well, yeah, I was asleep until I heard the horse ruckus,” Jackson admitted when I flicked his head. He looked over at Rachel’s brother. “Hey, man, you’re Caleb Martinez, right? You played lacrosse with Georgetown High, right? You guys rocked st
ate this year.” Caleb nodded and blushed.
“Yeah, I played,” he confessed. “I wasn’t the star or anything, though.”
Jackson shook his head and jabbed me in the chest. “Don’t believe it, man.” He jabbed me again. “This guy was the shit at the state game.” He turned to Rachel and her family. “I wasn’t on the team; I already graduated two years ago. I just went with some friends.” He grinned and feigned a boxing combination aimed at my gut. “You missed it to do ‘paperwork’ and stayed home all weekend like the old man you’ve turned into since Dad handed the business over to you.” I laughed, but it was true. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d left the ranch for anything other than business. I looked up at our guests, a little embarrassed.
“Oh, don’t worry, we have a workaholic here, too,” Rachel’s dad remarked, pointing at his daughter with his thumb. “Sounds like you two will get along just fine.” I saw the look that passed between our younger brothers at the last thing he said. But, thankfully, our fathers didn’t. I looked at Rachel in her threadbare work shirt over a tiny tank top and snug, well-worn jeans and I couldn’t help but agree that I had every intention of getting along with Ms. Martinez in every way I could think of.
My mother had, of course, demanded that the Martinez family all stay for lunch, and together, we hauled Rachel’s luggage to her private room in the bunkhouse. At the last minute, I looked at the accommodations and had palpable regret at putting her in there so close to the men, some of whom were seasonal and I didn’t know very well. I took my father aside and expressed my concerns, and he readily agreed.
I asked Rachel if she’d rather be up at the house, and she declined the offer, pointing out that she would have a much harder time gaining the respect of the other ranch hands if she was coddled and given better lodgings than they were. She hauled her bags into the bunkhouse, studiously ignoring the stares and muttered catcalls of the four, seasonal workers. I glared at them, and the muttering stopped as long as I was in the room.
The moment I walked out the door, they picked it up again. Rachel made her way back through the room behind me, and I heard a chair scrape as one of the guys approached her. By the time I strode into the room, she was standing in front of Carter, who was now sitting with his chair leaned back on the rear two legs. She had her foot between his legs on the seat of the chair, and as I watched, she calmly pushed with her foot until it fell over with a crash. She looked at each of the other men in turn as if asking if anyone else had anything to say. I tipped my hat down and exited while staring at the floor, to hide my laughter. I didn’t mind them knowing I thought they were stupid; I just didn’t want her thinking I didn’t respect her methods.
We brought in a few extra things, Skipper’s dog food, a couple of pictures of her family, a girl thing or two I honestly didn’t recognize. While we were all there together, I inspected the room. When I checked the door, I realized there was no proper lock. I informed her that she was perfectly permitted to stay in the bunkhouse, but not until I had replaced her doorknob with one that locked and possibly installed a deadbolt, as well.
When she argued, my father stepped in and agreed that while we knew the men we hired full time would never invade her space, there were times when we brought in extra help, and it would be remiss of us not to protect her in that situation, especially as she was the only female. I assured her we would do the same for any woman, and if we brought another on board while Rachel was here, we’d set up this end of the bunkhouse for multiple sleepers and she could share her space, as well. That seemed to placate her, and she agreed to take her smallest suitcase up to the big house with us.
Before we walked out, Rachel handed me a folder, marked with “Skipper and Peace” on the front in black sharpie. I looked inside and saw complete veterinary records and training certificates, including one declaring Skipper an ideal horse dog, calm and non-aggressive.
“I wanted to make sure you had a copy before we moved in,” she explained. I accepted the file and motioned for her to walk with me to the business office while the others headed back toward the large dining room. Once inside, I closed the door so we would have privacy and tossed the file on the desk.
“I’d like to know more about why you want to be here and what you hope to accomplish, Rachel,” I began, motioning toward the only chair in the room that wasn’t piled high with files and paperwork. She looked around her and arched an eyebrow at me.
“Well, I was hoping to get more training in herd management from your stable master, but if you’d like, I could play administrative assistant and dig you out of here.”
“No thanks. I accepted the mantle of responsibility, I’ll figure out what the hell Dad had going on and get it cleaned up myself,” I laughed. I poured a small tumbler of whiskey and offered it to her. She turned it down, and I tossed it back and poured myself another. “Do you think that being here is the best for your future?” I redirected.
“I really do. Honestly, if it isn’t, I’m still certain that there aren’t many things I could do with my summer that would be time better spent.” She smiled at me and looked out the window. “Don’t you think seeing that I was useful at a ranch like Lago Colina will look good on my resume?” she countered. “What would you rather see me doing?”
“A beautiful, bright, talented woman who is also, apparently, a horse whisperer? Well, I think she should be spending her summer on a beach making stupid, young men crazy with lust as she cavorts in the water in next to nothing.” She scoffed, and I continued before she could argue. “Which is to say, that I’m real glad she’ll be holed up on my ranch, cavorting with my broodmares in faded Levi jeans and a beat-up cowboy hat.” I tugged at a stray curl resting on her shoulder.
"What else do you think she should be doing, while she’s cavorting with horses?” Rachel inquired. I watched as a pale blush sprung into her cheeks and she glanced down at the floor. “Because I’ve been thinking…” Her voice trailed off as she glanced up at me and swallowed. My pulse sped up and I licked my lips, waiting for her to finish.
“Yes?” I prompted, willing myself to stay still and not reach for her.
“I was thinking that maybe I could help you get into racing, if you wanted,” she finished shyly. I took a single step toward her and stopped.
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, incredulous. I hoped she hadn’t figured out what I’d been thinking, as I surreptitiously checked my advance. She covered her face with her hands and for a split second, I thought she’d realized what had been on my mind.
“I shouldn’t have blurted that out, especially before I prove myself,” she moaned from behind her fingers. “I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything.” Her shoulders sagged and she wouldn’t meet my eye. I found myself irrationally angry that she’d act like she was in trouble, shying away from me as though she’d disappointed me.
“Don’t,” I snapped more harshly than I planned. “Just…don’t.” I rubbed my face with my hands. “I brought you on because you have a reputation already for having good ideas and knowing how to execute them.” I sighed and took her hands in mine. It wasn’t the conversation I thought we’d be having when I held her hands, but it would have to do. “If you have an idea or a question, ask me, or my father, or Pete. We’re here for you, as much as you’re here to help us.”
“Thank you; I’m sorry if I offended you,” Rachel replied.
“I’d be less offended if you’d stop apologizing,” I argued. I tried to look serious, but something about the way she had flinched made me feel even more protective of her. “How about we just start again, and you tell me what you tried to before we got sidetracked by your over-developed modesty?” I gave her a wry smile to let her know that everything was okay between us. "As far as I am concerned, it never happened.”
She smiled back at me and tried again. "Have you ever considered racing as part of your business? I mean, real racing, like with thoroughbreds or even Morgan trotters?” She folded her arms under her breasts and h
ugged herself. “I was just thinking,” she mused, “with the beautiful horses your ranch breeds for show and the jumper you medaled last year, you might be thinking of branching out into triple crown territory.” She shrugged and cocked her head to one side. “It is really expensive, though, and you’d have to find a colt sired by a champion. I just wondered if you’d like me to do some research as part of my duties.” She looked at me expectantly.
“How did you know that I’d even thought of taking our horses in that direction?” I asked. I had closely guarded that secret, planning to wait until I had full control of the ranch to engage in anything my father had dismissed as too risky. We’d fought about it at first, but as he kept pointing out, Lago Colina might be my birthright, but right now, it was his property and his herds. Still, I’d picked up a few mares with royal bloodlines and slipped them past him in the last few months.
“I recognized a couple of your pregnant mares while you were showing me around, actually,” Rachel confessed. “I thought there was a good chance that their royal bloodlines meant nothing to you for racing purposes, but then I decided, if you have them, and you can find a good stud…” She let her voice trail off.
“Why put a good bloodline to waste?” I finished for her. She nodded.
“Exactly,” she agreed with a grin. I pursed my lips. I already had mares; it wouldn’t be too hard to call in some favors and find a decent stud. I nodded my head and motioned for her to lead the way out of the office.
“I may have to take you up on your offer to help me shuffle paperwork.” I told her that my father wasn’t a man of technology and that my brother had only recently talked him into a computer at all. I had begun getting everything organized and onto the hard drive, but didn’t have much time to spare. “You can work in here while we wait on your new locking door,” I decided. Rachel heaved a deep sigh. She might not have been happy with my decision, but she realized it was better than the alternative.
