Tethered (The Stables Trilogy #2) (9 page)

The look on his face said otherwise. “You don’t think I’ll learn it on time?”

“No, I do--” he frowned, choosing his words. “But I don’t trust you right now.”

“Why?” Maple didn’t mean to question it-- the thought of being with J.B. was enticing enough, and Lord knew she was curious about the auction. But this was a part of his business J.B. guarded intensely. The fact that he shared this business with her was startling enough. When he’d told her she’d be coming, it had been a shock. Now it felt as if he was doubting that decision.

The corners of his mouth tugged down. She thought maybe she knew.

“Because of Bane?”

He didn’t answer.

“Because I don’t obey orders,” she expanded, sounding defeated.

Of course. As she said it, she could feel the strokes of the switch again. Hear the song of it as it whistled through the air before cracking onto her soft flesh.

“Finish up here,” was all he said before getting up and walking out of the barn.

Which of course left her too much time as she worked to think about the auction, the pony girls, J.B. and all his frustratingly sealed layers, and of course…

She worried about Bonnie.

Maple was in the stable when the vet showed up.

She tried to pay attention to her job. Mucking wasn’t mentally demanding, but it was a lot of work physically. In her months in the stable, particularly since healing from the rattlesnake bite, she’d been getting stronger.

Her shoulders had more definition, and she could fit two fingers into the gap between her waist and the waist of her jeans. Her hips, though, were another story. Apparently working hard made her hips and ass grow, muscled as well as curved.

Great.

The new muscles made working a little smoother, but not easier. Especially when she was switching out the horses’ beds. She shoveled large pitchforks of dirty hay into her wheelbarrow, and struggled to listen to the vet and J.B. in the other stall.

All she heard were the low muffled tones of the vet and J.B.’s Marlboro Man rasp.

She was finishing up Mesa’s stall when J.B. came in behind her.

“Whelp,” he said as he grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow to push it out for her. “You were right to say somethin’.”

She was hovering now on the edge of being crushed. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s dyin’, Maple. Old age.”

It truly shouldn’t have been a surprise. Bonnie had been old when she started. What did Maple think all the rides were going to do to that tired, loving horse?

J.B.’s hand gripped her shoulder. Warmth from his palm warmed bones that felt hollow. It grounded her.

She hadn’t even been aware of how numb she was.

“I can already see you doing it, Maple. Stop.” His mouth was a thin line.

“Doing what?”

“Blaming yourself.”

“I’m not--” She knew she shouldn’t be. It wasn’t like she had control over time. Aging was going to happen whether Maple wished it to or not. Knowing that he was right didn’t ease the onslaught of anger she felt at herself. “I’m not.” She was, but she didn’t want to talk about it.

His face softened. “Tell me what you need.” It was a command. Even in this, J.B. didn’t know how to offer his help.

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Look, here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re going to keep workin’ this stable. Don’t worry about the other one.”

“But--”

“Don’t argue, Maple.” A hint of threat. She clamped her mouth shut. “Look, we’ll do a crash course if we need to. But I want you here, with Bonnie.”

It was a gift, and she knew it. Maple didn’t get many gifts. Certainly not a gesture like this. She tried not to think too much on what it meant.

All her brain wanted to do was dissect it.

“But-- and this is important, Maple -- when it looks like Bonnie’s on her way out, move her out to pasture.”

Wait, what? Her face scrunched. “It’s winter, J.B., I thought ‘put to pasture’ was just a phrase.”

“It’s a phrase rooted in practicality, Maple. Have you ever seen anything die?”

He obviously meant animals. It didn’t stop her eyes from flaring wide. The man’s face flashed through her thoughts. The blood that trickled from his mouth and nose. The awful, wet sound of his breathing. She’d seen someone on the way to death.

For having grown up on a ranch, though, Maple was oddly sheltered when it came to the animals dying. Her father wasn’t set up for slaughter; he sold his steer live. On the off chance that one got sick or old before they were sold off, he’d depart with a shotgun and call a local company to pick up the body.

“I’ve never seen a horse die,” she whispered. Maple couldn’t look J.B. in the eye. Loss had started as a seed deep within her, but now it was blooming.

“Well, most likely Bonnie’ll just go off in her sleep. But she’ll need to be out of the stable when it happens. Now, go and grab some blankets and whatever you need to stay out here. Because I reckon that’s what you wanna do. Get set up with Bonnie, and I’ll have Mariela bring you out something hot to eat.”

It sounded like kindness. The words were there. The comforting hand on her shoulder. J.B. was trying to be kind to
her
. But Maple was angry at him for not caring about Bonnie, and that made it much easier to suppress the grief she was feeling.

Take her outside? Make her die on the frosted ground? Didn’t he understand how devoted this creature had been to him? Bonnie had been a good horse. Tim had told Maple about Bonnie in her hay days. Tireless. Strong.

And J.B. wanted Maple to leave her in the cold to die.

Maple nodded. She couldn’t speak to him, not now. J.B. wasn’t the kind of man you scolded or tried to shame. And she was on thin ice, anyway.

In her room, she gathered blankets and pulled on her coat. She picked up her book. Her fingers went absentmindedly to her neck, seeking the comfort of the lost pearl necklace.

The stable was empty by the time she returned. J.B. had sent the vet away, and life on the ranch was back to normal. Maple wasn’t naive about these things; she knew that the world had to keep spinning no matter what. But as she entered Bonnie’s stall and began to pet her friend, she couldn’t help but be angry about that, too.

There should be pause for kindness.

It was quiet as time passed in the stable. Admittedly, it was boring, too. Waiting for something to die wasn’t exactly on anyone’s bucket list.

Maple kept busy by giving each horse (except Bane) a thorough grooming. She braided their manes and tails. It looked silly on Red and Justice, who acted so fiercely proud and defiantly male. But Mesa took to it well and looked quite stately. Bonnie, of course, would always be beautiful in Maple’s eyes.

Poor Bane only got an apple here and there.

There were so many twisted parts of J.B. that Maple was drawn to. His art, for one. His tight, grim face and gruff voice. The way he hurt her in the most delicious ways when he finally lost control. But this… the apparent disregard for these amazing animals? That pissed her off.

She shouldn’t have been punished for grooming Bane. Damn him, he didn’t even say anything about the fact that she’d been able to! Bane had let her in the stall. He’d let her brush him and touch his hooves! Bane was so clearly not a menace.

The fight between them that circled around Bane couldn’t go on much longer. Between that beautiful, black horse being kept locked up and demanding that Bonnie die cold and outdoors, Maple wasn’t sure if all the other things that attracted her to J.B.were enough.

She thought about that girl in the restroom at the BDSM club. How, no matter how badly the man hurt her, she was willing to crawl back. Maple had been like that with Tony. Willing to overlook the worst character flaws just for another hit. Another orgasm. The hope for some kindness.

Was she reliving that with J.B.?

So many signs were there. Her sick need to please him, no matter what. How his cruelty upped her anticipation and pleasure. How she looked the other way when he touched other women. Or treated the horses badly.

Maple seemed willing to forgive him anything if he’d just keep her near. On the off chance that something amazing, like the whipping in his office, would happen again.

Nighttime was coming. Mariela came out with soup. It was in a large glass tupperware, still warm and steaming. It had hominy in it, and pork. The lime and garlic infused broth was fresh and burned as she sipped it from the glass.

Her breath fogged in the air.

Drawing a blanket tight around her shoulders, she leaned on Bonnie’s body. The horse was lying down, lids heavy with sleep. The stable was surprisingly noisy when Maple allowed herself stillness. She could hear the slowing stamps and snorts of the horses as they bedded down. Outside an owl hooted.

And, in gut-wrenching clarity, Bonnie’s rattled breaths resonated through the stillness.

Maple put her soup aside and wrapped her arms around Bonnie’s neck, pressing her face into the warm mane. She relaxed and let Bonnie’s labored breaths lift her gently up and down.

Was this it? It seemed too soon! The vet had only just been there that day!

She knew she should get up. Help Bonnie outside. J.B. didn’t give orders for no reason. But Maple couldn’t, for the life of her, understand why Bonnie should be outside, exposed and alone, for her last hours on earth. Inside the stall it was safe. Warm. Full of the comforting smells, blankets, food, and memories that Bonnie deserved.

The rasping breaths slowed with sleep, steady and heartbreaking. Maple couldn’t do it. She couldn’t wake the dear horse up and drag her outside. Besides, sleep would probably do wonders for her. It wouldn’t cure old age, but when the sun had risen in the morning, and it had warmed up outside, she could take Bonnie out.

One more night in the stable wasn’t asking too much. Even J.B. would understand that. He’d have to.

Sleepiness stole into her limbs, carried by the shared warmth of laying with Bonnie. One step at a time, Maple decided. She’d be with Bonnie until the end. After that, after the grief, she’d explore her relationship with J.B. more deeply.

Putting that off was difficult; Maple was the kind of girl to gnaw at something until she’d torn it to bits. It was how she coped. But she wasn’t sure she could think clearly about J.B. When she was near him, God help her, she became so clouded with lust that everything else fell out of focus.

Her eyelids were heavy, itching to shut. Pulling the blanket more tightly around Bonnie, Maple slid to her own self-made pallet in the stall. Her back pressed against the rough wood. Watching her best friend sleep filled her with a little peace.