Page 43 of Wrangled
“Alright, that’s all good. What else?”
“Your lawyer called. She wants you to call her back, same as the sheriff. There is also a town meeting tonight, which you’ve been invited to, according to some abrupt woman who didn’t leave their name.”
I blow out a sigh before walking around to place my empty plate in the dishwasher. “The phone calls can wait until later. What time are the first lot of guys coming to see the cattle?”
He looks down at his watch. “In about forty-five minutes.”
“That will work. You ride, Riggs?”
He looks at me, and the expression on his face makes my skin flush. “I know how to ride.” His voice drops an octave when he speaks.
“We can saddle up now and check on the pastures, see if there are any issues, before we have company. We won’t get around to everything, but we can make a start.”
“Sounds good. Let me just grab my hat and boots. I’ll meet you out by the stables.”
I nod and grab his empty plate, adding it to the dishwasher along with the things in the sink before heading out back. As I’m already in dark blue jeans and a purple Henley, I don’t need to get changed. I grab the sheepskin jacket I hung next to the door and throw it on before slipping my feet into a pair of brown cowboy boots. I push my way outside, the day dull and gray with a hint of moisture in the air. I feel invigorated when it fills my lungs, nonetheless.
I head to the stables and grab a handful of carrots from the bag hanging on a hook near the first stall. I hadn’t really thought about the animals’ upkeep when I first fired everyone, my anger blinding me to the everyday tasks. But if I have to come out here and clean and feed the horses every day until I figure out what I’m going to do with this place, then so be it. I didn’t trust a single one of Dale’s or my father’s men, and I sure as shit won’t give them access to the ranch just to make things easier on myself.
I introduce myself to each of the horses, making my way down the line, snapping off a piece of carrot and offering it to them. It isn’t until I get to the second-to-last stall that the breath freezes in my lungs.
“Willow?” I gasp as a familiar dark head pokes over the gate. All dark except for the white star-like shape on her nose, Willow had been mine since the second I helped birth her. I thought myfather would have sold her out of spite. Never in a million years did I expect her to still be here.
“Oh, girl, I missed you.” I run my hands over her before pressing my forehead to hers. Peace washes over me, making me gasp. “Willow?”
Love. Acceptance. Home.
It’s almost enough to bring me to my knees. “You missed me, too, huh? I’m so happy to see you.”
I pull back to look at her, but the tears blurring my eyes make it difficult. I reach for a carrot, snap it in half, and feed it to her. “You wanna take a ride with me, pretty girl?”
She chuffs at me, making me grin.
“I’m gonna take that as a yes.”
“You a horse whisperer or something?”
I whirl around at the sound of Riggs’s voice. “I swear I’m going to make you wear a bell.”
He grins, his eyes moving from me to Willow. “I thought she was going to bite my fingers off this morning when I fed her.”
“My girl doesn’t like people very much.”
That time, his grin is wider, showing a hint of straight white teeth. “Sounds like someone else I know.”
“I don’t dislike all people. I just don’t like people who are cruel or mean. Or people who are users and posers. Fake people who act like false prophets spilling lies with a smile on their faces. I don’t like people who let envy rule them, turning their red blood green, and narcissists who expect you to make them your whole world while they watch on with disinterest as you orbit around them, just hoping for these brief moments of sun?—”
“So you dislike people.”
My shoulders slump. “People let you down. Animals don’t. They are who they are, and they don’t pretend to be anything else.”
“I don’t know. I had a dog once who was convinced it was a cat.”
I blink at him before I laugh. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Found him tied to a trash can on the side of the road in Kabul. I have no idea what breed he was, but there was definitely some Great Dane in him and probably some St. Bernard. He was a little skinny thing one minute and a beast that could rival a hellhound the next, and yet he insisted on curling up in my lap.”
I chuckle at the picture of Riggs trapped under a giant dog. “He sounds adorable either way.”
