Chasing Casey

by Jane Anthony

  All around me, the crowd sways to the music. Some sing along, others just watch with half smiles plastered on their faces, while I look on with awe. They all want her, but I have her. She belongs to me, and I refuse to share.

  Under the majestic yellow and red lights, her gaze locks on mine. The crowd disappears. It’s just her and me and that sweet voice singing to my soul.

  ***

  A horse stable isn’t like the picture I had in my head. I imagined animals just hanging out, walking around, and sniffing each other’s butts and shit. In reality, it’s nothing like that. The large wooden structure looks like a house from the outside and fancy horse jail on the inside.

  Long snouts poke out from each individual enclosure, lined up one after the other on the left-hand side. Each stall has its own door, both in the front and the back so the horses can enter the stable or run through the pasture. Along the right is a row of low shelves. Above them, saddles hang in a neat row one after the other on racks and, in between, hang various other items like ropes and blankets.

  Just outside the stable, a concrete slab sits alone surrounded by wooden posts with a hose dangling off one of them. Today is grooming day, or so I’m told. Each horse gets a bath, followed by a treat for good behavior. Casey hands me a plastic bucket filled with brushes, shampoo, and conditioner and tells me to wait. A strange face in the stable can upset the horses.

  The slow clop of hooves on dry earth turns the corner as Casey emerges with the first horse I’ve ever seen up close. His black coat gleams in the sunlight. She holds the rope loosely and lets the beast guide her, not the other way around. “This is Barney.” Casey’s voice is tender as she strokes the horse’s mane. “You ready for your bath, big guy?”

  Barney huffs a breath out his nose in response but doesn’t walk toward the slab. “Barney’s a sweet old stallion, but he’s a little skittish at times.” She continues to comfort him, humming with the same gentle tone. “Talk to him.”

  This is crazy. The only thing that comes to mind are the old Mister Ed reruns I used to watch on late-night television, but I’m sure yelling “Wilbuuuuur” isn’t going to win me any bonus points. “Uh. Hey there.” I feel like an idiot. “You must be an earring. ‘Cause you look like quite a stud.”

  “Seriously?” Casey asks with a laugh.

  I shrug and smile. “I don’t know how to talk to horses.”

  “Just say whatever comes to mind.”

  The only things ever on my mind are sex and music. Animals have no place in either. Then again . . .

  The lyrics to the “Four Horsemen” tumble from my mouth like poetry. Cheesy, I know, but they popped into my head and found their way out before I had a chance to think it through.

  Casey gives the rope a little tug, and the horse begins to move again. Who’d have guessed Barney was a Metallica fan? He walks toward me slowly and takes a step up onto the concrete platform. Casey ties the rope around a post before settling her hand on his back with a light scratch between his shoulder blades. “Good boy.”

  I remain off to the side, nervous I’ll spook the animal if I get too close. “Barney’s sweet spot is on his wither,” she explains. “Never go straight for the face. Always reach for the base of the mane first. They like that.”

  “You know a lot about horses.”

  The dimples on Casey’s face say it all as she reaches for the bucket and pulls out a comb. Her hands roam the horse’s coat as she finishes combing then switches to a brush. She’s a calming force. The horse knows she’s in charge and allows her to work. This is her calling, not the stage. In the spotlight, she was unsettled, but on the ranch, she’s in control.

  She gracefully glides her hands down his leg, and Barney lifts his foot. I watch with wonderment as she picks the hoof with meticulous care then goes on to the next. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  “Nah, I’ve just been doin’ this a long time. Been around these animals all my life. Can you fill that bucket with water for me?”

  Water sloshes into the bucket from the hanging hose and makes a splish-splash sound as I set it down next to her. She dips a cloth into it and strokes the horse’s nose and face. As soon as she’s done, she sprays his body down with cool water.

  “I got a job for you.”

  The way she smiles and dangles the mitt out in front of her is so damned sexy. I never thought something like bathing a horse could have erotic undertones, but that would be a severe underestimation of Casey’s power over me. Every move she makes drives me just a little bit crazy. This morning, I wanted to bend her over the sink after watching her brush her teeth.

  I take the mitt and await further instructions. She squeezes a quarter-sized amount of shampoo onto it then covers my hand with hers, massaging Barney’s coat with a small, circular motion. “Think you can manage that?”

  “Yep. Just like washing a car.” A big, breathing, furry car that could kick me ten yards away if it gets mad.

  I work my way across his side, and Casey follows with the hose. Soapsuds foam and run off Barney’s slick body into a puddle of water below him. The excess spray dapples my hot skin, soaking my shirt as we work side by side. With my free hand, I grab the back of my collar and tug it over my head in one swift move.

  Casey’s eyebrow slowly lifts as she watches my tee carry on the breeze and flutter to the grass. A lascivious smile passes her lips. She aims the hose and shoots water on my pants. “Ooops!”

  “That’s how you wanna play, huh?” My attempt to snatch the hose falls flat while she continues the task of rinsing the horse. Instead, I pick up the bucket. “You’d better run, cowgirl.”

  She does a double take before lifting her arms in surrender. “Okay, I give up,” she says, dropping the hose and backing away from both Barney and me.

  It’s on.

  Water flies from the bucket and spatters against her stomach with a splash. It soaks her shorts and trickles down her legs. “Aww, gross! That’s dirty horse water! At least I hit you with the hose!”

  “Well, then I guess I’m going to have to wash you next!” I take her by the waist and smash her against me. The cold water is already warm, heated through by both her body and the sweltering temperature outside. “Then again. I kind of like you dirty.”

  “Mmmhmm,” she breathes against my mouth when my lips find hers. They instantly part, allowing my tongue to slip between them for just a moment. A tantalizing appetizer for what I hope is to come as soon as we’re finished with work. “I plan to get very dirty. Just so you know.”

  My hands inch up the back of her shirt and glide down her silky skin. Casey sucks air between her teeth, shivering under my ticklish touch. “Then I’ll have to bathe you extra thoroughly to make sure your coat is shiny.”

  A loud bang, followed by the echoing clop of hooves turns Casey’s docile body rigid in an instant. I turn and follow her gaze. Clouds of dust kick into the dry air, followed by flying horsetail and a black dot getting smaller by the minute as it runs away from us.

  “Oh, my God! Barney!”

  I run, work boots thumping heavily on the mix of yellowing grass and dirt. My smoker’s lungs burn, but I can’t stop. This is my fault. I distracted Casey from her work, and the horse got loose.

  Barney slows as he nears the fence, knowing he can’t get past it, and my sprint becomes a jog. I don’t want to spook him. With my hands braced on my knees, I hang my head to catch my breath before finding the strength to inch near the horse. I really have to quit smoking.

  Singing the same song as before, I step forward. Barney’s whinny is loud as he moves backward, butting up against the fence. My voice is quiet, but I don’t stop warbling the words, standing still and waiting for the horse to calm. When I take a tentative step, he lets me. A few more steps and he meets me. My hand rests between his shoulder blades, just the way Casey showed me, as my free hand wraps around the rope still attached to him.

  “I think we’re gonna be friends, Barney.” I sigh with relief, continu
ing to rub his back.

  All it takes is a gentle tug, and the horse follows me back toward the stable. Casey stands at the edge, not far from the wash pad where I left her. A look of relief slides over her face when she sees me, but a snarl crosses mine when I see Austin. He’s leaned against the wall of the stable, opposite Casey, so he goes undetected. His dangerous glare sends a shiver up my spine. Something about the way he looks at me. It’s not just menacing. It’s evil.

  “It was you, wasn’t it? You untied the rope!”

  “What’s going on here?” Casey’s ponytail flaps behind her head as she jogs toward Barney and me.

  “Your boy, here, is accusing me of endangerin’ one of our horses!” Austin strolls over, all bowlegged and slow like he’s Doc friggin’ Holliday. “I told you he’d make a mistake!”

  “I’m not accusing you. I know you did it.”

  “AJ.” Casey keeps her voice light and even as she takes the rope from my hand. “Why would Austin do somethin’ like that?” She turns and leads the horse back to the slab.

  Austin’s mouth quirks. The bastard is grinning at me, and he’s about to eat his own teeth for breakfast. “You ain’t gonna win. Best leave it alone.”

  “You’re begging for it,” I warn, taking a defensive step forward.

  “You gonna push me, little boy?”

  “No.” The slapping sound of skin ricochets through pasture as I crack Austin across the face open palmed. “I’m gonna smack you like the little bitch you are!”

  Fuck being nice. He’s been goading me since day one. I tried to make it work, but this is war.

  His lips curl over his teeth in a vicious sneer. He throws a swing, but I duck and tackle him to the ground, sending his stupid cowboy hat flying. A dirt cloud plumes up as I smack Austin’s head into the dry grass.

  “AJ!” Casey is behind me in an instant. Her tiny hands close around my bicep and pull, trying her best to get me off Austin who’s lying on the ground letting me beat him up. It makes no sense. He’s been dying for a piece of me ever since I got here. Why now, when I’ve finally given him a reason to fight me, is he holding back?

  I stand, brushing the dry, dead grass from my pants as Casey continues. “So this is how it’s gonna be now? Y’all are just gonna fight like a bunch of children?” Her piercing blue eyes are full of blame as they narrow on me. “This shit is gonna stop. I need to know right now from both a’ y’all. Are we gonna have a problem here?”

  “No, ma’am,” Austin mutters.

  “Are we gonna coexist like adults, or do I need to get out Gran’s spoon and give y’all an ass-whoopin’?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replies again.

  “This is some hillbilly bullshit,” I mumble under my breath.

  “What was that?” When Casey steps closer, I notice the pulse vibrating in her neck. Her lips tremble, and her eyes shine with anger. She’s yelling at us both, but she’s furious at me.

  “I know Austin untied that rope.” I enunciate each word, clear and even. I’m not backing down on this. He’s sabotaging what we have, turning us against each other, and he’s winning.

  “Go in the house, AJ. I’m too busy for this bull-spit.”

  “So you’re taking his side?”

  “I ain’t takin’ a side. I’m shuttin’ this down. Austin and I have work.”

  I can’t believe this! My mouth falls open as I listen to her stand up for him while chastising me as if I’m an insolent toddler. She didn’t see the look on his face. I’m not wrong about this.

  Casey and Austin both turn away, leaving me standing there wondering what the hell just happened. Today went from great to shit, and that fucker is behind it all the way. There’s something underhanded about that man. Every time he walks into a room, it feels like a thousand spiders are crawling all over my skin. He smells like hidden motives, and I don’t trust him. He may have her fooled but not me.

  CHAPTER 26

  Casey

  MORNING SUN PEEKS through the blinds as the alarm starts to buzz through my room. The bed shifts behind me and the room goes silent, save for my sleepy groan. How is it morning already?

  “You sleep, cowgirl. I’ll feed the kids their breakfast.” A soft yet bristly kiss falls against my cheek, forcing a smile on my tired face. AJ’s taken to referring to the horses as “the kids,” which I find adorable.

  As AJ rushes around to get dressed for the day, Austin’s words drift back to mind. He gave me doubts, but he was wrong. After a week on the ranch, AJ’s entire demeanor has shifted. Back in New Jersey, he was troubled, reserved. Out here, he’s happy. The sadness in his steel gray eyes has lifted, replaced with a cheerful twinkle and an easy smile. His presence here has added something this ranch was missing.

  It gave it life.

  I roll onto my back feeling lonely without him next to me and force myself to get out of bed. I’ve blown off so many chores to hang out with AJ, and things are starting to pile up around the house. It doesn’t matter how long I let it sit, the laundry just isn’t going to wash itself.

  The dryer is full of Austin’s clothes. I pull them out and fold them into neat piles then stack them into my basket to carry to his room. His bed hasn’t been slept in. Ever since AJ tackled him in the pasture, he’s taken to sleeping in the barn. He’s always been so kind and gentle. Austin wouldn’t even hurt a fly. AJ lost his mind that day. I know he’s sorry, but things between him and Austin will never be the same. Not that they were very good to begin with.

  It breaks my heart, but maybe it’s better. Being around Austin only stirs up complicated feelings. He shouldn’t still affect me this way. I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t let him go—his presence here is too valuable—but I can’t keep walking on eggshells, afraid of how he’ll react when he sees AJ and me together.

  I set the basket on the small oak dresser in his room and shimmy open the top drawer to set his things away. Everything is right where it always was. Socks in the top drawer, tees in the middle, pants in the bottom, shirts in the closet. His room is simple, defined. Easy to navigate.

  Hangers clang together as I begin to hang his shirts in a neat little row. My bare toe scrapes against something in the corner of the tiny closet, forcing me to the floor. A wooden box sits alone on the hardwood. Putting his clothes away is one thing, but going through his personal stuff is quite another. I kick the box back into the corner, but curiosity gets the best of me, so I slide it out and peel off the lid.

  An instant lump forms in my throat. My gut is yelling at me to snap the lid back on and leave, but my heart won’t allow it. The contents are a strange brew of items that no one else would bother to look twice at, but everything that grazes past my fingertip is something special: A small bottle of lilac lotion. Two movie tickets. A hair scrunchie. A small stuffed horse. A guitar pick. A heart-shaped rock.

  An engagement ring.

  A whole host of things from a life we almost built wrapped up tight in a little wooden box. A metaphor for the love we once shared, now dead, buried in a coffin deep inside a closet.

  “What are you doin’ in here?”

  I gasp at the sound of Austin’s voice and scramble to my feet. “I’m sorry. I was just puttin’ your clothes away and . . .” The look on his face almost overshadows the sight of him wearing nothing but a towel.

  Almost.

  “Why did you keep all this?”

  His hand grasps the knot around his waist as he walks toward the dresser and begins taking out his clothes. “It made me feel close to you.”

  Heat rises up my neck and into my face. I chastise myself for being nosy, but all thought comes to a grinding halt when the towel falls to the floor. A squeak hurtles from the back of my throat seeing his long body on full display. The muscles in his back ripple as he bends over to slip clean jeans up his thick thighs and over his lean, round ass. “You got somethin’ to say?”

  Dryness takes over my throat. My lips stick to my teeth as his gaze locks on mine in the mi
rror ahead. All I can muster in response is, “Mm-mm,” with a head shake as I turn toward the door.

  “Wait.” He turns, gently taking my forearm. I force my eyes to stay focused on his face, and not on the trimmed patch of exposed hair showing beneath the tiny metal teeth of his open fly. “I’ve been tryin’ to understand what’s going on between us, but it’s so hard.”

  “Austin . . .”

  “Just listen for a second.” He steps closer, his damp skin brushing dangerously close to my chest. The clean smell of his shaving cream blends with the scent of my shampoo on his hair, creating a masculine yet feminine fragrance that jumbles my mind and making it hard to know the difference between right and wrong. “It’s been killin’ me all these years, wonderin’ why you left, but I think I finally figured it out. You were young, and I didn’t want to make you feel forced to do anything, so I never tried. I waited for you to make all the first moves because I was too shy, too respectful. You needed a man. One who knew how to make you feel like a woman.”

  Dark eyes burn into mine as he continues to move forward until my back hits the wall with an “oomph.” “I’m every bit that man, Casey Jane. You have no idea what kind of things I wanted to do to you. The things that went through my head, that still do.” Hot breath blows against my mouth, as his head dips to mine. Once again, I find myself trapped in more ways than one.

  Without waiting for permission, his lips claim mine. Every nerve in my body pops. He’s rough and angry, devouring my mouth like he’s punishing it. The hard lines of his body press against me. I feel him growing along my skin, going from flaccid to hard as he presses into the soft center of my stomach.

  Aggression pours from his lips. I can taste it on my tongue, feel it simmering in my gut. It’s unpleasant, and I don’t like it.

  “We both know you want this.” His voice is gruff as his hand roams my backside and slides under my knee. “I want you in my bed. AJ never has to know.”