Page 38 of Stables Spurs Suits
“Good, as long as he’s helping. I’ll see you in a few.”
“Yeah, sure, thanks,” I call back with a wave of my arm, and I head into the stables.
“Okay, now you all are going to love it here, I’m sure, and you’ll get along with your new brothers and sisters just fine, if you give it a chance,” I tell them as I make my way down the row, passing carrots into the mouths of each as I go. “They’re all excited to meet you.”
A thud sounds at the end of the stables, and I continue down, passing carrots, the thud coming twice more before I reach the end. When I open the top section of one of the stable doors, I’m not especially surprised to find Loki standing there, and I catch him just before he kicks again.
“You knocked?” I ask with a slight chuckle. He turns and reaches his head over the lower door, reaching for the basket of carrots. I pull my arm away before he can get one, and his teeth come together with a clack.
“These are for your new family members, not you,” I tell him, and he tilts his head to the side, big brown eyes peering into my soul.
“Okay, just one, but you better be nice to this lot when they come out. No freaking them out by playing dead, got it?”
I pass up the biggest carrot of the bunch, and he greedily takes it and then bounces away.
“Okay, you lot. Let’s take it slow,” I say, and then I open the stable doors completely on the paddock side and start guiding them out one by one. Loki is standing nearby, watching each one come out, his ears twitching this way and that as the new horses neigh and gallop around their new home with a freedom they’ve probably not had in a long time. It’s not that working horses are treated badly. On the contrary, they’re some of the best looked after horses on any ranch, but most of their days are full of work, having someone on their back, going where they’re told, at what speed they’re told. It’s nice to be able to give them the retirement they deserve here.
“Well now, don’t they look happy, then?” a voice says from behind me, and I turn to find Alan Beaker, the youngest of the Beaker brothers, standing with his arms folded over the railing.
Chapter sixteen
MATTHEW
SETTLING IN AND STEPPING UP
I step out of the milking barn and just catch sight of a few figures walking into the main house. “When did you get here?” I hear Atlas ask someone, and I follow the voices around to the other side of the stables.
“Gramps made us park up by the road, you know how he is,” the other voice replies.
“Yeah, I do,” Atlas replies, and I round the corner and find him smiling so wide it has to be stinging his cheeks. “So, you just going to stand there, or are you coming in?” he asks the guy, and he leaps over the rail in a single bound. When he turns to head over to Atlas, I get a better look at his face and recognize the youngest of the Beaker brothers, Alan. He’s tall and wide and walks with an air about him like he’s strutting down some fashion runway, not crossing a horse paddock. At dinner the other night, I remember Dean and Nial calling him the baby Beaker, and when I asked why, they said it was because healways looked so much smaller than them. He doesn’t look that much smaller now.
“You’ve been here two minutes, and you’re already in with the horses?” someone else calls from behind me, and Atlas and Alan look my way as another guy, who I’m assuming is Ryan, Alan’s partner, jogs past me. I paint on my smile and jog over too.
“Best place on the ranch,” I say, and I hold out my hand. “Hi, I’m Matthew. You’re Ryan, right?” I ask, and he gladly shakes my hand.
“That’s me. So, Matthew, are you a new ranch hand the guys hired to help with the horses?”
Atlas laughs, and I shoot him a playful glare.
“I help on the ranch,” I say, and he nods. Alan nudges his side like it’s something he’s done a million times, and it’s the most relaxed I’ve seen Atlas other than earlier today with me.
“You can help out now and go and let out the next two,” Atlas tells me, and I climb the rail half as gracefully as Alan went over a moment before.
Wait.Where’s Loki?I think, and I scan the field but can’t see him. Maybe Atlas put him back in his stable already. I step into the new stables, and then I spot him at the end, head buried in a basket.
“What are you doing?” I ask, but of course he can’t hear me. I move toward him slowly, not wanting to scare him, but when he lifts his head, the basket is looped over his face blocking his vision, and he takes off toward the doorway. I press myself against the closest stall as he gallops past.
“Runaway horse,” I yell as I follow behind Loki. Everyone turns, then he whips his head with a great neigh, the basket flies off, and he skids to a stop like a cartoon character, stiffens, and falls over.
“This must be Loki,” Alan chuckles. “I thought Dean was exaggerating about the whole playing possum thing.”
“Is he okay?” Ryan calls from the side. He’s climbed up on the first railing to try to get a better look. Loki’s nostrils flare, but he otherwise remains still. I crouch beside him and stroke his neck.
“You don’t have to be afraid of these guys. They’re your family too,” I tell Loki, and Atlas and Alan stand on either side of him.
“I thought Dean said he was deaf,” Alan says.
“He is,” Atlas replies. “Matthew… likes to talk to him anyway.”
