by Claire Adams
It took an hour to get the horses in their stalls. It took even longer for me to convince Cheyenne that they were going to be okay. Huddled against one another when the rain started to pour, we both waved to Rick as he backed up the driveway in his truck. Darkness settled on the ranch as I guided Cheyenne at my side to the mudroom alongside the kitchen.
“What happened?” Tiffany asked the second we were inside. She hobbled over to us on crutches, frowning the entire time. “I heard Cheyenne screaming down in the barn. I saw the horses in the corral too.”
Cheyenne took her hat off to hang it up on a coat peg. She smoothed a few errant pieces of hair back from her forehead while looking up at me.
“We found black widows in one of the barn stalls,” I explained, taking my own hat off as well. “Not sure what happened, but there was about thirty of them in one barn stall. Cheyenne’s lucky that she didn’t get bit.”
Tiffany’s face lost color quickly as I suspected it would. She hated spiders with a passion. I was always the one who killed them when we were kids and even as adults.
“Black widows in the barn?” Tiffany repeated with a shudder. “Gross. Please tell me that you stomped the hell out of them.”
“The ones that I found,” I said.
“I don’t understand what they were doing in one barn stall though,” Tiffany said. “We’ve never had problems like that before. At least, not that many spiders at once.”
Cheyenne slipped off her boots, nudging them to the doormat next to the door. She gave us both a bashful smile.
“I’m sorry to cut this conversation short,” she said, “but, I can’t get the creepy-crawly sensation off my skin. I need to go upstairs and shower.”
Tiffany waited until Cheyenne was well out of ear-shot before she turned to look at me with a frown. “Something is going on, Colt. You see that, right?”
“I see it,” I said, darkly. “I saw it when I counted the spiders. I don’t know how that happened, but I can’t believe it was nature.”
“Who was in the barn with you?”
“Just Rick, Cheyenne, and me. That’s it. No one else came and left today.”
I ran a hand through my sweat-matted hair with a sigh. A long and hot shower did sound good after working out in the rain. The back of my shirt was drenched with sweat too from working around the ranch all day.
“I’m going to take a shower too,” I said and stepped past Tiffany as she hobbled to the landline. “What are you doing?”
“Calling a bug guy,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere near that barn until we have someone spray. I don’t want anyone getting bit.”
I didn’t even bother pointing out that I could buy a bottle of something to spray around the barn while the horses were out in the pastures. Something wasn’t right about the spiders, and I wanted a professional opinion when it came to explaining how that many spiders ended up in the first stall that Cheyenne had gone into.
Chapter 17
Cheyenne
Rain pelted against the barn roof. A wet cold clung to the air as I tried helplessly to sweep out the clumps of wet hay and mud.
“This is pointless,” I groaned, rubbing my lower back with a grimace. “It’s just going to keep raining and keep getting muddy in here.”
One of the horses whinnied in agreement. I smiled as I set the broom back in the tack room, locking it up behind me before I double checked the barn stalls one last time. No spiders. No black widows. No scurry of movement all along the ground like a few days ago.
A shudder went up my spine at the memory. An exterminator had arrived earlier yesterday morning to completely spray the barn just in case. Nothing would live, he had assured us. Not even ants. Still, it was hard to close the barn doors without wondering if one lone spider lived somewhere out of sight like the others had been. Even if one bite wasn’t enough to kill a horse, it was enough to inflict pain. That hurt my heart thinking about it.
Rain pelted against my jacket as I jogged up the wet pathway to the mudroom. The lights were on in the bottom part of the house, but I knew that Colt was upstairs going over the books for the Smith ranch. Rick had left an hour ago to get supplies in a neighboring town, while Tiffany had gone with a friend to town for her weekly check up on her leg.
It was a cold and rainy day alone with Colt. The chill in my bones craved something warm, something that Colt could undoubtedly offer.
I slammed that passing thought down before the rest of my body could respond. Getting closer to Colt was complicating things. My body felt tight and coiled whenever Colt was around. I kept wondering what his lips against mine would feel like. Wondering what it would be like to have Colt in my bed was starting to drive me crazy.
Sweeping a hand along the drenched strands of my hair, I entered the mudroom door with a relieved sigh. A warm shower would chase those feelings away without a problem. I shrugged out of my rain jacket to hang it up. Kicking out of my boots, I padded through the kitchen to head upstairs in the direction of the guest room. I stopped in surprise though to find Colt sitting in the living room with a glass of whiskey in front of him.
“Hello,” he said, looking up from the iPad in his lap. He arched an eyebrow at me. “Were you running out in the rain?”
“I was trying to clean,” I said as a blush filled my cheeks. “I did run after one of the horses, though, when he was spooked by all the thunder and rain.”
“It doesn’t even look like you were wearing a rain jacket. You must be freezing.” Colt patted the couch cushion next to me. “Sit down. I don’t want you getting sick from playing out in the rain.”
Maybe it was the hazy warmth in Colt’s eyes that chased away the cold still clinging to my skin and wet clothes, but I shook my head at him politely. A shower. That was how I was going to warm up.
“I’m heading up for a shower. I stink of horses and mud.”
Colt’s nose wrinkled at that. “Oh, well, then please do take a shower. You do smell now that I really think about it.”
I climbed the stairs with a giddy laugh. It wasn’t until I was in the privacy of the tiled shower that I let that wicked temptation take hold. It’d been too long since I last felt even a drop of pleasure. I tilted my head up against the blast of hot water. I never craved anyone physically, but with Colt it was different. I craved him in ways that I couldn’t even put into words. I just wanted him close. I wanted those strong and sturdy hands cupping me in all the right places while those lips were pressed up against mine.
Shame filled me when I felt my fingers drift to the throbbing between my legs. One little touch couldn’t possibly hurt. It was my own hand doing it. It wasn’t Colt’s hand even though I wished that it was.
Pleasure burst through me a minute later. I rested my forehead against the slick shower tiles with a relieved breath while the hot water continued to beat on the back of my neck and shoulders. If I hadn’t done this… I couldn’t face Colt until some of this tension was gone. We were already bordering on that very thin line of friendship and more than friendship.
Dexter’s face passed through my head. He was a good example of how relationships could go sour and then bitter. Our mutual friends had eventually stopped calling my phone to talk over the months that passed since our breakup. Their smiling faces with Dexter right in the middle of them had been enough of a lesson for me.
And I didn’t want to risk losing my friendship with Tiffany over a passing lust for Colt. The two were rightfully protective over each other, and I didn’t want to step in the middle of them. I was already on the bad end of an enemy in Green Point. Having the Smiths as an enemy felt more frightening and isolating than Bill Coates spewing hate about me to anybody who listened. Some residents believed him. Some residents didn’t believe him. It was hard to figure out who was a friend anymore.
“You look refreshed,” Colt commented when I came downstairs ten minutes later. “Have a nice shower?”
I smoothed my hands down the front of my shirt while my cheeks flar
ed hotly. “Yes, it was nice. What are you doing?”
“Going over the books for the ranch,” Colt replied, scowling down at the iPad. “Tiffany normally does this, but I’m doing it today.”
I took a seat on the couch with a pile of couch pillows between us. A fire crackled happily in the fireplace while Cole rested his head on the back of the couch, sighing in contentment.
“Don’t be fooled by my face,” he said. “I’m getting restless sitting here at the ranch. I made it a point a long time ago that I wouldn’t just sit here ever.”
“What’s so wrong with being here?” I asked, curling my legs up underneath of me. “It’s beautiful here. There’s tons of land. I bet you don’t have to worry about money here.”
“Not really. The ranch will do well even after I’m dead. That’s for sure.” Colt’s eyes slipped closed. “I don’t know. I just feel trapped here is all. I wanted to do other things with my life, but my father didn’t want me to go somewhere else. He needed someone here to look over the ranch when he couldn’t do it anymore. I just thought it was unfair at the time that I couldn’t do anything else with my life.”
“You still feel that way,” I said quietly. “You can always let Tiffany do the ranch. She doesn’t want to leave Green Point from what I’ve gathered.”
A chuckle escaped Colt’s lips. He opened his eyes to look at me with a half-grin tugging at his lips. That familiar warmth washed over me again.
“You trying to get rid of me, Cheyenne?” he asked. “After everything that I’ve done for you…”
“Very funny,” I said, rolling my eyes at the antics. “I wouldn’t be in Green Point if it weren’t for you. So be proud of that.”
That grin turned mischievous. Colt leaned over the mountain of the couch pillows to wink roguishly at me.
“I’m happy to take all the credit for that,” he murmured. The smell of whiskey ghosted my lips. Calloused fingertips ghosted my jawline. “I don’t want you to leave. Ever.”
My heart pounded furiously against my ribcage at his close proximity. “I have to, Colt. I have to go back eventually.”
“You can stay here.”
“You’ve had a lot to drink,” I said, reaching up to grab his hand from the side of my cheek. It took all my strength not to bury my face into the warmth of his palm. “Maybe you should go up and take a nap.”
“Not that much. I’m just being honest about how I feel is all.”
Run, Cheyenne. Warning.
“Don’t do this, Colt,” I whispered, shaking my head at him. “You know that we can’t be more than friends.”
His eyes narrowed at me. “Says who?”
“No one. I’m just saying that—”
“That’s my point. You’re the only one who’s trying to tell me that it can’t happen. I think you want to be with me.”
I tried to turn my head away, but strong fingers grabbed ahold of my chin. Our eyes clashed against one another’s. Desire swam in the cobalt blue of Colt’s eyes, almost like a violent thunderstorm brewing in the distance.
“I don’t know what the last guy did to you,” he said, “but I can tell you that I’m not going to be like that. You know who I am.”
Tears filled my eyes. A tumult of emotions crashed over me while my fingers circled around Colt’s strong wrist.
“Please. Don’t make this harder on me than it already is.”
“You’re making it hard on yourself. You are driving me crazy.”
My lips tingled when Colt leaned in even closer. Our noses brushed, and I parted my lips again because this was what I wanted. Deep down, I wanted this more than anything in the world at the moment.
“Who left the barn doors open?”
The question startled the both of us. I jerked back to see Rick standing in the kitchen, drenched with rain. He swept a gaze over to Colt, who let go of my face immediately.
“It shouldn’t be open,” he said. “You closed the barn doors right, Cheyenne?”
I rose to my feet as fear clawed up my throat. “Of course I did. I double checked the locks and everything before coming up here.”
“The doors are wide open,” Rick said. “I don’t know if any of the horses got out or—”
Colt let out a string of curse words as he ran a hand through his hair. I made my way to the living room windows that overlooked the sprawling pastures. My heart sank at the sight of three horses huddled together against the rain in visible distress. I hurried over to the mudroom to slip on a pair of boots and a rain jacket. I knew that the barn doors were locked. I’ve double checked everything since the black widow incident.
Cold rain poured on our shoulders while I jogged after Rick and Colt to the open barn doors. I nearly collided with Colt’s back when he stopped abruptly to look down at something on the ground. Thunder boomed loudly above us, and the horses inside the barn whinnied uneasily.
“What is it?” I asked, peering around him to look at the ground.
Black scorch marks covered the ground along with what appeared to be pieces of paper. The smell of rotten eggs filled the barn along with a faint trace of smoke.
“A firework,” Colt said. “Whoever was in here shot off a firework to spook the horses.”
Tears filled my eyes as I rushed inside to find a few of the stalls open and empty. The remaining horses shifted uneasily in their stalls despite Rick’s best efforts to calm them down before they hurt themselves. I grasped the barn door frame to peer through the heavy sheet of rain. The horses in the back pasture were long gone by now, but I couldn’t bear the thought of them wandering around in the wilderness alone and in the cold rain.
“We have to go get them,” I said and turned to look at Colt as he tossed the firework down on the ground with an angry cry. “Colt, we have to go out there to get them. The horses—”
“No,” Colt interrupted, shaking his head at me. “We can’t, Cheyenne. Whoever did this could be waiting for us out there in the rain. The horses will find some trees to hide under. It’s too dangerous to go out there.”
“Do you think someone did this on purpose?” Rick asked.
Colt’s eyes met mine. The cold hard truth slapped me in the face as I turned back around to look at the wet land. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks while I listened to Colt’s answer.
“It’s no longer someone trying to scare Cheyenne or me. They’re trying to send a completely different message now.”
Chapter 18
Colt
I couldn’t stop pacing around the kitchen while I waited anxiously for Rick to call back with good news. Cheyenne sat at the breakfast bar with her head in her hands. Her shoulders trembled in silent sobs. A part of me wanted to reach out to console her, but I couldn’t contain the anger brewing inside of me.
The minutes stretched on into hours. Thunder boomed in the distance again. The storm was refusing to let up no matter how hard I prayed that it would. Rain poured down from the gray clouds. The evening hours were approaching fast, and I couldn’t afford to wait any longer.
“I’m going to go look for the horses,” I said.
Cheyenne looked up from the mug of tea she had made herself while waiting next to phone on the kitchen counter. “If you’re going, then I’m going to go look too. They are my rescues after all.”
“Someone needs to stay here in case Rick calls.”
“He hasn’t called for the past two hours, Colt. I think that’s a sign that he hasn’t found them.”
Headlights filled the living room window. I glanced out to find that it was Tiffany hobbling towards the front door on her crutches as fast as possible. She was drenched, even with a raincoat, and looked utterly miserable when she made her way slowly into the mudroom.
“This storm isn’t letting up,” Tiffany grumbled, balancing on one foot as she shrugged out of her rain jacket. “It’s been raining all morning. Can you all tell me why Rick is driving around town—”
She stopped talking when she took in Cheyenne’s tear-streaked
face. She glanced over at me sharply.
“What’s going on?”
“Someone lit a firework in the barn,” I said. “They left the back door open, so some of Cheyenne’s horses are out in the storm.”
Tiffany’s eyes widened in horror. She clasped a hand over her mouth, turning to look at Cheyenne, who nodded.
“How do you know it was a firework?” she asked.
“We found the evidence on the ground. Rick is out looking for the horses now.”
“I’m going to go look,” Cheyenne announced, turning away from the living room window with a determined glint in her eye. “I can’t sit around and wait any longer. Those horses are my responsibility.”
“I’m not comfortable with you going out there alone,” I said firmly. “I’ll go look for the horse with the trailer.”
Cheyenne shook her head at me. “She won’t come to you. Not in this storm.”
“Cheyenne—”
I couldn’t bear the thought of Cheyenne out there in the storm with a spooked horse, but I had no idea if the person who had lit the firework was a harmless prankster or something different. I didn’t want to risk it either way.
“Whoever lit the firework might be out there,” I said. “I don’t know if it was a harmless prank, or if they had other intentions, but I don’t want you going out there alone.”
“I have to agree with Colt on this,” Tiffany added, frowning. “Whoever put the firework in there probably put the black widows in there too. Even the exterminator was confused by the amount of spiders you all found.”
“Which is why I need to find the horse,” Cheyenne argued hotly. Her cheeks were red with distress as she looked up at me pleadingly. “Please, Colt. Whoever is doing this is trying to hurt my horses because they know it’ll hurt me.”
I opened my mouth to reply but felt my cell phone buzz from inside the pocket of my flannel shirt. I pulled it out to look down, expecting Rick’s number, but it was Michael’s landline.
