Asha King (4 page)

****

Adam saw off the last of the people there for lessons and went straight to fill up the water trough in the paddock. The people were headed for lunch in town, and once again asked him to join them. He, as usual, declined. There had been eight regulars and three newbies there for the hour, all women in their forties, fifties, and one in her sixties, and there were only so many attempts at setting him up with their daughters that he could take.

He ran his hands under the cold stream, lifted a handful of water, and splashed it on his face. June sun was hot, but July would be killer, he knew. He brushed his hands off on his jeans and stared at the trough as the water level rose.

Maybe Gus was right—maybe he needed to get out more. Meet more people. But nearly three years of monotony on the farm, and he was mostly content with his lot in things. A little restless, on occasion, but the farm was orderly and quiet, and he liked that.

The truck rolled slowly down the driveway, spitting dirt and gravel as it went. Dewey parked in front of the house and laughter drifted out as doors opened. Adam glanced over his shoulder as he shut off the water valve.

Dani Jackson climbed out of the truck, grinning and laughing—a far cry from earlier when she lay in heap on the field. He thought for sure she’d pack up and leave. Instead, it appeared she went...shopping.

She wore some of her purchases, he assumed, since he hadn’t seen her leave dressed like that. Her hair was up in a new Stetson with a handful of black curls loose and falling to her shoulders from it. Over her white tank top she wore a red plaid shirt fresh off the rack with the sleeves rolled up and the bottom knotted over her navel to reveal a strip of skin. The jeans were probably her own, dark blue denim that molded to every curve. Finishing it all was a pair of proper cowboy boots.

Had he just seen her out somewhere, his first thought might’ve been that she could tie him up and ride him any day...but of course, he knew her, and couldn’t very well look at her without picturing her hiding her face as Bud ran toward her. Adam cleared his throat and thrust away any thoughts about the aforementioned riding and nudity, even as his cock began to harden.

Dani plucked a few large shopping bags from the truck bed, saying something to Dewey that he couldn’t hear as he approached.

“Lady Luck has some inflammation I noticed just before lessons today,” he called.

Dani and Dewey both turned to look at him. Her pretty face was shadowed by the hat and as he didn’t want a raging hard on all day, he was glad of it.

“Vet?” Dewey asked but Adam shook his head.

“It’s minor—I think she’s sore from romping out in the field yesterday. Bute’ll do.”

“Need help?” Dewey was grinning suddenly. “’Cause I gotta go in and see Gus.”

Adam’s gaze narrowed. “You do not.”

“Yep. I sure do. Here.” He snatched the bags from Dani before she knew what was going on. “I’ll put these in your room. Have fun!”

Slowly, she turned back to Adam, eyes wide. “What?”

He sighed. “Follow me.”
Yeah, this’ll be fun.

He led her back to the barn where the horse in question, a buckskin named Lady Luck, was in the crossties. “I have to administer Bute.”

“What’s that?”

Once again with the questions. “An anti-inflammatory.”

“Like horse aspirin?”

“Sure.” He already had the drug mixed up and in a large oral syringe, which he lifted off the table in the adjoining tack room. “I need you to hold her tongue out of the way.”

He returned to see her pressed right against the barn wall, hat askew on her head and eyes huge. “What?!”

Goddamn it, Dewey
... “It’s not hard and it’s only for a few seconds.”

She made a face but took two cautious steps forward.

Lady Luck shifted, dancing in the ties, probably in reaction to Jackson.

“You have to calm down, princess,” he said, forcing his tone from irritated to tranquil. It took a vast amount of effort as she aggravated the ever loving hell out of him. “Horses can sense things.”

Dani bit at her plump bottom lip and, God help him, but his gaze was drawn right there, wanting to taste and bite it himself. He turned both his eyes and his hips away from her.

“Oh, I know!” she suddenly declared and pulled out her cell phone. “Video,” she answered his questioning look. “I will do anything for the purposes of comedy.”

Whatever.
“Just hurry up.”

She played around with the cell phone, eventually opting to squeeze it into the band around her hat, angling it so—presumably—her audience of no one could see some of the events. When she nodded her okay, he wrenched Lady Luck’s mouth open and shouted for Dani. She squealed as she grabbed the horse’s tongue and held it to the side, chanting incoherently about the grossness of it. Adam shoved the syringe to the other side and shot the dose of Bute in.

“Oh my
God
,” Dani said as she stepped back and shivered all over. She held her hands up to her hat where the cell phone still sat. “Look at my hands. Look!” She turned them back and forth where horse saliva covered them.

Adam suppressed a chuckle and shook his head. The damn woman was mad, talking to herself like that.

He’d have to ask Gus
again
when she was leaving.

Even if part of him hoped it wasn’t all that soon.

Tuesday

NEW POST: Draft Mode

Today I got pulled down a hill by horses and fell and was rescued by a handsome stranger—who isn’t really a stranger and kind of ruins the handsome vibe every time he talks. Retail therapy helped, but then I had to hold a horse’s tongue to the side while horse aspirin was administered.

Holding a GIANT HORSE’S TONGUE is about as gross as you can imagine.

Times ten.

Say it with me now: Ewwwww.

Don’t believe me? I got a cell phone video this time.

Wednesday

NEW POST: Draft Mode

I need a bath.

A long one.

Like, for five or six hours.

In the Caribbean.

While getting a massage.

And with Cabana boys bringing me drinks.

I could sure go for a mojito right about now.

Someone needs to get on that for me, posthaste.

Thursday

NEW POST: Draft Mode

And I was stepped on by another horse.

Now I’m going to describe for you how I chased a Palomino through a field for twenty minutes...playing the part of me is, well, me. Playing the part of the horse is Jenny the Doberman.

Chapter Five

Dani spent her days in filthy jeans, boots scuffed up within hours of putting them on, and a Stetson that seemed to blow off her head more than it stayed on.

How Adam Cooper could wear the damn hat no matter the weather and have it always stay in place—even when galloping down the field on a horse—was beyond her.

And made her dislike him even more.

She was always sweat drenched, filthy, smelling like damn horses, and then he’d bark an order at her, still looking all ruggedly put together and her whole body would heat up with want. For the longest while, she expelled some of that irritation by flipping him off the moment his back was turned, but then Dewey once saw her and laughed, causing Cooper to turn around and catch her. Then there was reprimanding, and threats to go to Gus about it, and eventually she was put on stall duty, left to cart manure from the barn and sweep up everything left over.

At least she’d been able to write up a few blog posts, even if she couldn’t publish them yet, and every night that was what she did: chronicled the highlights, sometimes including a few photos she’d snapped with her phone. Thursday night, exhaustion hit her hard, but she recorded a vlog about it—with Jenny the silly ranch Doberman flopped on the bed next to her—staying up long enough to film everything but falling asleep sprawled across the bed editing the video together.

She just couldn’t post anything and it was driving her mad.

And then things got worse when the barrel racers started to show up.

Early Friday morning, she stood on the front porch with her cup of coffee loaded with cream, sugar, and ice cubes—the closest she was getting to an iced latte—sipping the drink and blinking against the rising sun, trying to wake up. The air was cooler than it would be in the day and she was starting to
finally
feel like she was fitting into the part she’d come to play. Her skinny jeans were scuffed around the knees but clean, boots worn in and comfortable. A short-sleeved, blue plaid shirt was tied at her abdomen to reveal her navel and white tank top. The Stetson hung on her back from the strap around her neck and she’d started to get used to it there. Her nails were a damn mess—she’d broken down, removed the nail polish, and not repainted them—and she’d stopped wearing makeup, but it was sort of fun being a farm girl.

When she wasn’t shoveling manure. Or being dragged by horses. Or stepped on. Or touching gross horse tongues for the purpose of medicine.

Light glinted in the distance, early morning sun striking metal as a vehicle turned down the long driveway. Behind the gleaming red truck was a black horse trailer, wheels spitting up dirt and gravel as they went.

Dani stiffened, her stomach twisting. The show was tomorrow—why would people be arriving now?

As the truck turned in a half circle, putting it three yards from the ranch porch, the door behind Dani opened and Cooper stepped out with a grin.

A real grin. One lighting his whole face—crinkling the skin around his eyes and lips, brightening his expression. He almost looked like an entirely different person.

Her heart thudded hard as she watched him step off the porch, not giving her a second look, to go to the idling truck.

The driver turned off the engine and stepped out. She was tall—taller than Dani, though not Cooper’s height—with a head of lustrous, poker straight brown hair that reached her elbows. She was dressed similar to Danyiah though looked far more at ease in it.

The Hot New White Chick rounded the truck, mouth in a huge smile, and leaned against the hood. “Hey! Good to see you!”

Cooper stopped a few feet in front of her, still grinning.

Irritation flickered in Dani while they made eyes at one another.

So he has a girlfriend. Or something. Are you surprised? No. Do you care? No. So stop being jealous.

Besides, she wasn’t jealous. Not at
all
.

She swallowed a mouthful of her iced coffee and it tasted sour.

“He took the ride well,” the woman was saying as she led Cooper toward the trailer.

The porch door opened and closed behind Dani; she glanced over her shoulder to see Dewey, Jenny racing past him to sniff out the new truck. He came to stand next to her and whistled low between his teeth. “Well. She’s early.”

“Who is she?” She forced her tone to be casual but it wasn’t convincing.

“Carlee Birch. Barrel racer. One of the best around here.”

Wonderful
. “And she’s here early because...?”

Dewey shrugged. “A few just do. You’ll see them arrive throughout the day, get their horses settled and a tent set up—a few of them that come early all camp out there.” He gestured over his shoulder to a spot between the outdoor arena and the ranch house. “She’s, uh,
very
early, though. Must’ve been driving since five this morning.”

Dani swallowed dryly and eyed her coffee but didn’t much feel like taking a sip. “Why would she do that? Excited for the show?”

“Or about seeing someone.” Dewey winked at her.

Her stomach turned.

“She’ll be staying until Tuesday, too—helping at Riding Camp, teaching some of the kids basic stuff.”

Oh joy of joys
.

He waved at Carlee, then returned to the house, screen door swinging shut loudly in his wake.

Dani scowled.

Carlee and Cooper led a sleek, chestnut gelding with a white seven blazing on his forehead from the trailer.

“What a good boy!” Carlee declared as she ran her hand down his neck. “That’s my Sweet Pea.”

Dani’s gaze swiveled to the trailer where, in white letters with an abstract horse logo, it actually said, “Sweet Pea.”

Dear God, that poor horse
.

Carlee led the horse toward the field, talking to Cooper the whole way.

Dani dumped the rest of her iced coffee in the garden and went back inside.

****

Dani was tasked with taking a truck into Stirling Falls, grocery list in hand, to pick up things for the festivities the next day. Snacks. Drinks. Paper plates and plastic cups. Goodies from the dollar store for the kids coming. She went through the stores, pushing a heavy cart and trying not to mutter under her breath.

The truck bed was brimming with plastic bags and boxes of things, strapped down for the duration of the trip, and she parked it with care right in front of the house. Thankfully, she was able to do so because Carlee’s vehicle and trailer was nowhere to be seen. Keys still swinging in the ignition, she reached for her door and glanced out the window.

And stopped.

Cooper and Dewey stood several yards away, repairing the outdoor training ring under Gus’s direction. Fresh wood, cut to the same length and stripped of bark so it stood out starkly yellow rather than weathered gray, was stacked to the side while the men worked. Dewey wore a T-shirt still but Cooper had discarded his, working bare-chested.

Oh. My.

He was built. This she knew just by looking at him, just by being near him and letting her gaze trail over his chest the last few days, but...

Day-am
!

Sweat glistened on his tanned torso, on the smattering of dark hair over his chest. His jeans sat low on his hips, denim hugging him like it had sentience and appreciated
exactly
where it was.

He lifted one of the posts and thrust it into the ground, gesturing at Dewey for something—

Carlee’s head popped into view. “Need help?”

Dani blinked.
Damn you.
“Sure.”

The other woman got out of the way long enough for Dani to climb out of the truck, and the two of them gathered grocery bags from the back. The air was tense between them, neither saying anything—not even Carlee, who was the instigator after all.

Arms loaded with groceries, bag handles cutting into her hands, Dani followed Carlee up the porch steps, but glanced once over her shoulder at the men working.

Cooper’s gaze met hers, as if he’d been watching her retreat.

Of course, maybe that was
Carlee’s
retreat. Dani shook her head and went inside.