Page 2 of Stables Spurs Suits
With everyone seated around the large old table, it’s hard to picture what it used to be like when there was just Dean, Nial, their gramps, Perry, and me. Gramps handed the place over tothe guys years ago and moved to an apartment near the other Beaker brother, Alan, in Savannah.
The ranch was small back then. My trailer used to be closer to the stables too, but with the guys turning this place into a tourist spot with tiny cabins hosting guests every week, I moved it to the furthest point from everything else on Beaker Brothers, which suits me just fine. Out there, I can be totally free, and yes, by that I mean naked. There’s no better feeling at the end of a day than stripping out of the confines of thick fabric and tight denim to feel the breeze skim the surface of your bare skin.
The horses don’t mind if they wander over and I’m buck naked, sippin’ my morning coffee. I prefer horses to people anyway. That’s how I ended up here. A horse named Queenie was wandering down the middle of the road on her own, trotting along like she was in a parade of one, and the two tractors and old truck trailing behind were forced to plod along in her wake. I was coming down the opposite way and pulled over, and when I climbed out of the cab of my old blue pickup, she came right on over and just stopped in front of me, like she was waiting for an introduction.
Then I spotted Nial jogging up the dirt road, waving his arm in the air.
“Don’t let her run away,” he yelled, but I knew she wasn’t going anywhere; she’d found what she was looking for.
She found me.
She refused to budge, no matter how hard Nial pulled on the reins, so I offered to help, and she took a step beside me without a second’s pause. Then Nial drove my pickup slowly beside us as we headed back to Beaker Brothers.
I was only planning on passing through Bellerelle, but this place, the ranch, and these guys, they became like a family to me. And as uncomfortable as it was for a really long time to sit right at this table with the noise of even the few of them chatting aboutthe day’s work and the plans for the week ahead, it’s louder now and I’m still here.
“Nial, are you all good for the morning milking experience?” Dean asks as we tuck into the delicious baked dinner Sally-May has prepared.
“Yep, his royal highness will help get the first of the girls set up, and Connor’s going to bring the guests down before he sets up for the first cuddle session.” By royal highness, he actually means Denver, the eldest son from the family next door. He’s been helping out on the ranch off and on since Dean broke his leg a while back. Has been building up a nice herd of goats he’s been milking to make cheese, soaps, and other stuff too. I like the kid, even if he does talk too much.
“Good, good,” he replies. “Atlas, we’ve had more guests asking about riding lessons. Do you think you can fit them in?”
I rub the back of my neck. “I guess, but it’ll just be around this place. The last time I took guests out on the road, a few of the horses spooked.”
“You could take them around the fence line,” Skye says, but I shake my head.
“There are too many gates; I’d have to keep stopping to open and close them. If you want people to be riding, then they need a proper place to do it.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” Dean says, and Skye raises his hand like he’s in school.
“What if we used some of the woods? You guys still own that land too, right?”
“The Fletcher sheep have been doing a good job keeping the grass levels down along the back acres. We could probably figure out a way to create a winding path through the trees without encroaching too much into the space they use,” Nial reasons.
“I don’t really have time to be looking for a suitable riding path with the new horses coming on board,” I tell them.
“Matthew can help you,” Connor says, and I instantly regret saying anything.
“I’m sure he has… better things to do than help with the horses,” I reply.
“Nope, the auction is all set up for next month, so until then, he’s totally free. Besides, it might be good for him to spend some more time on the ranch, and god knows Dean has been trying to get you to accept help for years now.”
“Skye helps,” I say, and his face instantly lights up.
“Yes, you can give him my jobs, mucking out the stalls and cleaning all the gear and stuff.”
“How is giving him your jobs going to free up my time to find a riding path?” I ask, and Skye frowns.
“It doesn’t. But I could do other stuff that you do, like brushing and bathing, and oh oh oh, you can teach me how to shoe them.”
Dean grabs another piece of chicken from the tray in front of him.
“With more horses to shoe, it would probably be good to have more than one of us doin’ it,” he says, and I sigh. The wild horses we took in won’t be shod at all. Most of them let me check their hooves and file them to keep on top of them, but they’re never out on the road or anywhere that would require shoes. Our horses and the new ones we’re getting have always had them, though, and given it takes about ninety minutes to reshoe each one every six to eight weeks, it would be good to have a hand.
“I guess that could work.”
“Yes. Will I get to use the forge?”
“Not right away. You’ll have a lot to learn before you go near that thing,” I say, but he’s over the moon excited and practically bouncing in his seat as Sally-May clears the plates and brings out tonight’s dessert. Sweet apple pie. Sally-May makes the best pies, and this one is no exception. I take my piece back withme to my trailer, and the second the plate is set down on the small outdoor table, I strip out of my shoes, then unbuckle my stallion-horse belt buckle and strip out of my pants and shirt. The moonlight bathes my skin, and as I breathe in the cool night air, it’s like all the tension in my body drifts away.
