Page 112 of Then You Happened
I stare at the message as I let it settle in, and I allow myself to believe the horse that was such a staple for this ranch, such a beacon of hope for me in the darkest of times, might be leaving.
My hands tremble as I dial her number.
“Sheryl. It’s Tate.”
“You got my message?”
“Yes. It breaks my heart a little if I’m being honest,” I say as I bite my lip and lean back against the wall of the stable.
“It’s going to break your bank account even more if you don’t.”
“Are you sure, Sheryl? I mean, even if we sell all the foals that should be born over the next few months along with the income we know is coming from this contract with Steely, I still have to sell her?”
“Yes.”
“Sell who?” Jack’s eyes are shadowed beneath the brim of his hat, and thunder begins to rumble in the far-off distance when I meet his eyes. “Sell who, Knox?” he demands when I just stand there like a deer in the headlights.
“Let me call you right back,” I tell Sheryl and hang up without waiting for her response.
“What’s going on here?”
“Don’t you dare take that tone with me,” I snip back, defensive over the secret I’ve kept from him.
“Tone?” he barks out.
“How about you tell me what the fuck is going on here? I’m over here busting my ass to close this deal with Steely, who wants exclusivity. They want to know you’re their breeder, which I promised them you would be, and now you’re talking about selling a horse? Don’t you think that should be something your ranch manager should know?” he asks. “Selling a horse to someone else is not considered exclusivity.”
“You don’t get to question me.” I see the man who came to me the other night, the one who laid me down on the bed and took his slow, sweet time worshipping my body, but I hear the same man who walked in here on day one full of an arrogance and condescension that echoed my father’s.
“I’ll question you any goddamn time I want,” he counters, the muscle in his jaw feathering, his hands fisting.
“No, you won’t.” My voice is part growl, part yell as the exhaustion of the past few weeks and stress of having to sell Ruby really mix with the guilt of keeping this from him.
When he steps forward and grabs my arm, I flinch. There’s something about his expression that has me seeing Fletcher standing above me after he’d shoved me down into a chair, screaming about all the things I messed up for him. I feel that fear that hums beneath the surface and taste the bitter unsurety of whether he would actually hurt me.
But Jack doesn’t notice. He’s oblivious to how I just put him and Fletcher in the same category while inside I’m silently dying over it as he leads me toward the house. If I didn’t know we had eyes watching us, I would have told him to fuck off and run the other way.
It doesn’t help that Gracie isn’t too fond of what’s happening and is nipping at Jack’s heels as he walks, no doubt drawing even more attention to us.
Our labored breathing and the clomp of our feet are the only sounds as we enter my house. The minute the door shuts, every ounce of anger I have for him parading me up here like a scolded child unleashes in a litany of words that probably don’t even make sense.
Of course, my rant falls on deaf ears because his is louder, more resonating, and it dominates the small space.
“Don’t you ever grab my arm like that again!”
“You want to fight in front of a man who’s going to give you a big payoff next year? You want to let him see you act like a goddamn child?”
“A child? A—”
“What in the hell are you trying to sell, Tate? Did you just give up on this? On the ranch? Did you think things were too hard and decide you didn’t want to do it anymore?”
His accusations hit me harder than expected. “After the past few weeks and all the work we’ve put in? How dare you accuse me of that!”
“Then what the hell is going on?”
“It’s Ruby. I’m trying to sell Ruby.”
“You’re what?” His voice rises in pitch, the tone a precursor. “Are you fucking insane?” He takes a step toward me that has me stepping back. “She’s your cash cow. She’s the one you sell off when things are dire because you have no other option. What in the fuck is going on, Knox?”
