Page 19 of Ace of Spades (Hidden Creek Ranch #1)

Had I swallowed a few bugs in my sleep? Most likely.

Was I going to let Weston hear me complain?

Nope, not happening. I was rather proud of myself, not that cattle wrangling took much work.

It was definitely easier than I had thought, and mostly just consisted of each of our pairs flanking the perimeter of the herd, and occasionally chasing a loose calf down if they strayed too far from the group. Nothing I couldn’t handle.

If I’d taken the time to look back yesterday, I might have noticed the views.

Now, heading back towards the ranch, we had the perfect birdseye of the entire property, the buildings far off in the distance as we made our way down the mountain, the clearing stretching ahead of us as the scent of pines and cedar trees wafted from the woods around us.

I watched one of the smaller calves slip from the group, getting a bit too curious as he strayed towards the treeline, and I nudged Blackjack after it.

“I got this one,” I tell Weston, feeling confident after having seen the others do this a countless number of times throughout the hike downhill.

“Let me do it,” Weston argues, the sound of Lark’s hooves beating behind me as he rides past me.

“Weston, I said I got this,” I tell him, pushing to move Blackjack past him and his mare.

“Hailey, I said stay back.”

“Will you just trust me for once? I can do this,” I exclaim, taking the lead once more as the two of us pick up pace. The calf sees us approaching, spooking at our rapid arrival and running off into the woods.

“You see what you just did?” Weston groans. “Go back to the group, let me handle this.”

“What I did? If you had just let me get it we wouldn’t be having this issue right now! ”

“When you’re out here, you listen to me, Sorrels. This shit can get dangerous, and if I can’t trust you to listen, you won’t be coming out here again,” he throws back, riding into the woods with me hot in his heels.

“I’m just trying to help,” I argue.

“Well stop trying,” he barks.

Oh, I’ll show him.

We find it down by the riverbank, the young calf calling for help from his mother as he struggles to get back up the rocky incline, the rapids rushing behind him. The spot he stands on is small, not wide enough for our horses to get down there.

“Shit,” I breathe, Weston pulling his horse up beside me as I swing my leg over the saddle, untying the rope from my saddlehorn as I slowly approach the youngling, my feet scooting to the edge of the rocks as I look for a way to climb down there.

“Hailey,” Weston calls, dismounting Lark as he comes to stand behind me. “We’ll have to find another way down, it’s too dangerous right here.”

“I can make it down there,” I tell him, shuffling forward and using my hold on a nearby branch to get as close to the edge as possible.

“Hailey,” Weston grinds out, reaching to grab my arm.

His added weight sends the stone beneath us careening, the branch snapping and rocks sliding under our feet as the two of us go tumbling down the steep incline.

The wind is knocked out of me as we fall, Weston’s body absorbing most of the impact as we roll to a stop at the river bank, his body crushed beneath mine .

“Dammit, Sorrels,” he curses beneath me, coughing as I catch my breath. I tilt my head up towards where the calf was standing just moments ago, now finding the spot empty.

Panic seizes through me as I look further down, finding his little brown head bobbing out of the water as the current carries him away.

“Fuck!” I yell, stumbling to my feet and accidentally kneeing Weston in the nuts in the process. He folds over, grunting in pain as I manage to get my bearings and race back up the rocky incline.

I don’t waste any time throwing my foot in the stirrup, swinging my leg over as I kick Blackjack into a run, rope in one hand and reins in the other.

“Come on,” I urge him under my breath, racing through the woods as I try to find a spot between the trees to make my way down to the water line.

I find a place to break through, keeping my horse steady as I allow us to slide down the rocks, the bank finally wide enough for us to run alongside the struggling calf.

Blackjack’s hooves beat steadily beneath us, and I manage to keep him straight as I divide my attention between the path ahead and my rope as I lift it over my head, closing in my loop as I swing it in order to have the most amount of slack as possible considering the distance between us and the calf.

It wasn’t ideal, but I would have to make it work.

I swing once, twice, a third time, and on the fourth, I release, pointing my wrist where I need my loop to go.

The rope wraps around the calf’s neck, locking in place as I dally the end around the saddlehorn and pull back on the reins with everything I have, bringing Blackjack to a halt as we skid on the gravel beneath us.

My horse does his job, sitting back on his hindquarters as he begins to pull backward.

I swing my leg over the saddle, my boots hitting the ground as I run to grab a hold of the rope, using all of my strength to help my horse pull the calf to the bank.

“Hailey!” I hear Weston call from somewhere above, the sound of Lark’s hoofbeats approaching.

“Down here!” I yell, digging my boots into the ground as I lean all of my weight back, my gloves keeping the skin of my palms from tearing as I continue to pull back with all I’ve got.

We’re fighting the current, the rapids a tough opponent as Blackjack manages one slow step backwards after another.

I hear Weston slide down the rocks behind us, gaining his footing as he rushes beside me to take hold of the rope.

“Keep pulling!” I yell at him, letting him take over as I race to the edge of the river, not thinking twice as I trudge through the shallow water to get to the calf.

I get chest-deep in the water, managing to keep my feet under me as the water splashes into me with incredible force. Working my way behind the calf, I dig my boots into the riverbed and place both hands on his hindquarters, letting out a groan as I push with renewed strength.

My hat gets swept away, tumbling down the rapids as the ice-cold water continues to barrel into me, shutting my eyes as the spray repeatedly hits me in the face. Still, I continue to push, slowly gaining ground until the calf manages to get his feet under him and climb up to the bank .

I stumble behind it, falling to my knees on the rocks as the exhaustion takes over. Weston gets hold of the calf, adjusting the rope around its head to make it into a makeshift halter to keep from strangling the animal, before making his way to me and offering me a hand.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” he tells me, the both of us regaining our breaths.

“What, saved a calf’s life?” I ask. “Isn’t that kinda the whole job of a rancher?”

The spring breeze reminds me of how soaked I am, a violent chill wracking through me. Even the sun in the sky can’t seem to warm me fast enough as the freezing water drenches every inch of me.

Weston seems to notice my shudder, his expression back on alert.

“You need to take your clothes off.”

“Weston Langford, are you trying to get me naked?” I manage to joke between chattering teeth.

“Dammit, Sorrels, you’re gonna fucking freeze out here,” he tells me.

“I’m fine,” I grind out.

“That would be more convincing if your teeth weren’t chattering.”

“Will you relax? I’m hardly going to die of a cold in the middle of spring.”

“Can you please just listen to me for once?” he snaps. “You’re so goddamn stubborn.”

“Fine,” I relent, my entire body now violently shaking as I wrap my arms around myself to try to regain some warmth. “But only because you said please. Even though you followed it up with calling me stubborn.”

He shakes his head as he leads my horse back up the incline, the calf in tow as I follow behind. Reaching Lark, he pulls a blanket out of the saddle bag before tossing it my way.

“Dry off and change, I’ll wait over here.”

I head to my own saddlebags, digging through them.

“Um… Weston?”

“What?” he calls from the opposite side of my horse.

“I uh… I think I packed my clothes from yesterday in the wrong saddle bag…”

“You did what?” he asks, sounding more annoyed by the second.

“To my defense, why do they all look exactly the same? Have you ever thought about stitching names on them or something?”

I can practically feel him rubbing the bridge of his nose like he does any time I get on his nerves. I hear the shuffling of material before he walks around to my side, not saying a word as he hands me a pair of jeans and a button-down ranch shirt that I recognize from him wearing yesterday.

“I can’t wear these,” I tell him, horror laced in my tone. “I’m gonna look like a homeless person.”

“I’m sorry, I forgot that this was a fashion show and not a cattle drive,” he deadpans.

“Ugh, You’re the worst,” I mutter, grabbing the clothes from him as I wait for him to make it to Blackjack’s other side, my horse acting as a privacy curtain .

“For trying to save your life? Yeah, I guess that really does make me the worst,” his voice comes from a few feet away.

“You’re insufferable,” I tell him, pulling my soaked shirt over my head, placing it on the ground to step my bare feet on as I kick my boots and then jeans off.

“Will you just get changed so we can get back to the group?”

“Yes, Captain. Right away, Captain,” I taunt, taking off the remainder of my undergarments before pulling the blanket off of my saddle to dry myself. “Try not to think about the fact that I’m naked over here.”

I hear him curse under his breath, bringing a grin to my face.

“Just completely naked,” I continue. “In the middle of the woods. Nothing weird about this or anything.”

“Can you just hurry already?”

I roll my eyes, bending down to dry my freezing legs and nearly losing my balance as a squeal leaves my lips.

“Hailey!” Weston calls, rushing around to my side.

“What are you doing!” I yell. “Get back to your side of the horse!”

He whips his head away as soon as he notices I’m fine, turning his back to me as he does what he’s told for once.

I finish getting dressed, using my belt to cinch his jeans over my hips and rolling the bottoms so I don’t walk all over them, his shirt reaching my mid-thighs as I don’t even bother attempting to tuck it in.

He makes his way back to Lark and climbs on after seeing me mount Blackjack, the two of us with the calf in tow turning back towards the direction that we came .

“Well, I guess we both have one thing in common,” Weston finally speaks after a short while.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“We both have a nice ass,” he winks.

I can’t help but chuckle, a blush creeping up my cheeks as I keep Blackjack steady alongside him.

A comfortable silence passes between us before he pulls his hat off of his head, leaning over to place it on mine.

It’s ridiculously big on me, sinking down to the point that I have to reach up and push it back to keep it from sinking over my eyes.

“What’s that for?” I ask.

“You earned it, cowgirl.”