Page 2 of His Wilde Little (Saddle Up #2)

New ranches filled with new people and their thoughts on cowboys were always amusing to me.

It was typical of newer ranchers not to know how being a cowboy worked, and for a lot of us, we’d been doing this since we were young.

I know that was true for me, so it was a surprise to have Thomas, the owner of Wilde Ranch reached out, telling me he had a feral stallion coming in as a rescue from an abandoned ranch from a couple states over.

The surprise was in having a ranch owner admit to not knowing what to do and needing help.

I almost quit, and maybe if I’d stuck it out in Texas, I would’ve.

A year ago, I’d let this younger stable hand, also named Thomas, ride a horse I’d been taming.

He’d wanted a bit of a rough horse. He was bucked right off, broke his leg, nearly almost had his full back broken.

I held guilt for agreeing to let him to ride all because he was preparing for competitive bull riding.

It was probably a sign that this fresh start was given to me by a man of the same name.

This place was a chance for me to get away from the guilt, although the kid just turned twenty, he’d told me not to feel guilt or blame, but it was impossible not to carry the burden from my choice.

To feel like his life was over, like I should’ve been the one in his shoes, but instead, he’d told me it was the way of life—I suppose the payout he got softened the blow, but he shouldn’t have gone through it.

The Wilde family were accommodating. I was set up in their guest house, which was nicer than most places I’d stayed in the past. I’d lived in bunkhouses for the majority of my life, and I wasn’t sharing this with anyone.

I had a private bathroom, kitchenette area, and a double bed.

I didn’t know what I’d do with all the space.

After touring the land and meeting the animals, alongside the one horse they had in the stable, who was getting old, and didn’t like being ridden as much. They had a nice plot of land, and it was going to be strange not to have cattle around, except for their goats, those were new for me.

Three thuds hit the front door.

I’d only been left alone for fifteen minutes to unpack. I assumed someone would be over to give me my working orders already.

At the front door, standing with a force smile on his face. Jace held out tray covered in foil. “You didn’t get to try these earlier,” he said, peeling back the foil slightly. “And you won’t have groceries yet, so I brought a couple things over.”

Something about him said he hated that I was here. I wasn’t taking his job. That seemed safe, his family owned this place. I had one job to do and hope to find my groove and passion again. “Thank you,” I said. “The bread smelled good. I’ve not got a huge sweet tooth though.”

He stood there, teeth sinking into his lip as he nodded and stared at me. “You don’t have to eat it, but I’m not going back with it.” His chest puffed out slightly, my eye caught the glint of the enamel rainbow pin on his shirt.

“Ok, you wanna come in?” I asked.

There was a softness in his eyes, almost like he was trying to suss me out. Our eyes circled each other in the attempt to see what we were about. “I’ve got stuff to do, but if you want to take this tray, I’ll see you around.” He nodded his head, attempting to shove the tray further toward me.

“Maybe you can take me into town later, not today if you don’t have the time, but I would love to buy some groceries to have on hand here,” I said. “Or, you know, just give me directions.”

Jace’s brow and forehead were tensing and furling together.

“You want me to take you?” he asked. “I—I can, but it won’t be until later, and stores close early, so maybe you could go alone.

The people in town don’t bite. As for directions, you can’t miss it, there’s pride flags everywhere.

” His jaw almost closing shut as he mentioned it.

And then it hit me, like a bag of flour tied to rope above a door. He was making a point about it. He thought I was homophobic. Animal whispering didn’t just start or stop at horses; I was good at getting to the root of people too. Especially ones that ran hot and cold.

“Great,” I said, taking the tray from him.

“Some of my friend’s rock with the pride flag.

I’ll have to let them know this place is welcoming.

” It was a lie, I didn’t have friends I could call up, invite over, and chat to.

I had networking opportunities, and none of them rocked the pride pin, unless it was June.

His posture straightened, as sharp as an arrow, or someone who’d received some unlubed information. “Yeah, yeah, well, I think you should. Pineberry Falls is super inclusive.”

“They accept cowboys?”

“Even cowboys.” His face turned a deep shade of pink. I think he had a little crush on him, and while he might not have been my go-to brand of guy to date, I also wasn’t going to make my new job messy by starting something with the owner’s son. That had been a certified disaster in the past.

He nodded. “Although, you kinda look a little too clean to be a cowboy.”

“Ouch,” I laughed. “I wanted to make a good impression; these are my cleanest clothes. I’m sure you’ll see me get them dirtied up soon.” And there I went, blowing my rule, and flirting.

“If you do some hard work, sure,” he said. “But I’ll have to see it to believe it. And your boots barely have a mark on them.” He nodded to my Lucchese boots. And now, I was absolutely sure we were flirting.

“Those are a new pair, don’t worry thought, they’ll be broken in soon enough,” I told him. “And if you’re lucky, I might let you watch when I tame that stallion your dad has coming in. It’s a skill you might want to get behind.”

Running his tongue across his teeth, there was something spicy in this Vermont boy.

I wanted to know more, but I had to take into consideration that rule about not flirting with the ranch family.

“If I wanted to climb on top of something muscular and bucking, I’d head to a local bar,” he said, and with that, I was well and truly stunned.

He left with a little twirl and walked away with a swerve to the way his hips moved and motioned like he knew I was watching.

Closing the door with the tray in hand, I discovered cold bullets of sweat run down my back.

I didn’t know if he’d been flirting or not, maybe he was just teasing, but that was flirting in my eyes.

I sucked back a breath and walked the tray to the kitchenette where I peeled back the foil and immediately grabbed one of the cookies.

It was so sweet, I could’ve dived headfirst right into a bowl of cookie dough.

When I agreed to come up here for the job, I was told all about the family and how everyone helped out. I wasn’t made aware that Jace was a brat, full of sass and a stare down that I wanted to be undressed by. I needed a cold shower ASAP or I’d end up doing something stupid.

One thing that was for certain, I would have to avoid Jace at all costs.

Adjusting to life on a new ranch was something I’d become good at, usually it was easier when I was sharing a space with a bunch of other cowboys, and we could play cards or talk shit with each other. Adjusting here was hard. I had too much of my own space now.

The first day evening was spent unpacking, having an evening meal with the family, and then Jace being forced into showing me the town tomorrow.

He was in his twenties, according to his dad, at least, but I didn’t know if it was just around me when he turned into a sassy tween, the sort of behavior I’d expect from his younger brother, the one who ate supper at the table with his handheld computer.

And I barely slept at all that night. I was so used to the white noise of others around. Even when I had my own small room, the occasional distant sleep talking and snoring was surprisingly missed.

I finally got up at four, showered, toasted some of the bread Jace had brought over as a welcome gift, and got dressed to meet whoever was up for the morning.

I made sure I wasn’t dressed so clean today, I didn’t need some kid telling me I didn’t look like I had years of experience because I’d managed to wear some starched clothes.

Walking over to the main house, I soaked in the cool morning breeze as I blew around me. I was so taken in by the surroundings that I nearly missed the scowling eye rolls from Jace on the porch with the dog at his side.

“You weren’t kidding about waking up early,” he said, pulling earbuds from his ears.

“No, there’s one thing about me, Jace, I don’t lie,” I told him. “But if you’d prefer to work alone this morning, I will not take any offence. I know you’re adjusting to all of this.”

As he stepped off the porch, the dog stayed put, laying its head back down, even after being called to from Jace. “You can help,” he said. “You’re here. We might as well use you.”

I laughed. “Not so much use me, but yeah, the sentiment is right.” I sighed and tilted my head, knowing we’d have to address whatever it was going on.

“You don’t want me here. I can tell. But I’m a talker.

It’s uncommon in a lot of folks like us, stoic guys, the type that utter few words.

Well, not me, I like to get to a route of the problem. And—”

“I thought you were going to be some bigot,” he announced. “And after realizing you weren’t, I’m just kinda pissed that you’re this entirely different person. Like, you’re not who I expected you to be at all.”

“Well, there we go, you’re being open,” I said, planting a hand on his shoulder. “You see how that feels. I bet it’s good. Right. Huh?”

“It’s also that my dad decided to bring you in and a new horse, we’d already decided that once Betsy was gone, we’d get rid of the stables and expand with more alpacas. It’s like, he doesn’t even care what we all have to say anymore.”

I nodded to his words. “I’ve worked on plenty of ranches that have done stuff I wouldn’t have done, it’s difficult sometimes, but you’ve just got to keep thinking that things can change.

Nothing is ever set in stone, and nobody is ever who they appear to be.

” The last part, about me, because we’d only just met.

He hadn’t even scratched the surface of who I was.

“Maybe you talk too much,” he said.

I laughed louder which in turn had the rooster crow.

“And while we’re on the topic, the guest house was supposed to be mine, or Olivia’s, but between us, I think she’s looking to move into town anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine, it’s just a space and I had hoped it would be mine. We never got too many overnight visitors so a guesthouse didn’t seem like it would always stay a guesthouse.”

I wasn’t going to offer it to him, as much as I enjoyed having people around, I definitely didn’t have designs on living with the family in their home. It wasn’t right. I’d sooner pitch a tent and get warm by a fire where I’d boil water and beans right out of the can.

“So, where do you headfirst?” I asked him.

“Have you milked a goat before?” he asked, raising his brows at me.

“Milked a cow, think it’s possibly the same mechanics there.”

He smirked. “Yeah. Except harder, they’ve got a whole routine and they’re very active. Which reminds me, actually, have you ever been headbutt by one?”

“Nope.”

Jace continued to smile and nod. “Again, first time for everything. Yesterday they were a little subdued from feeding and being milked, but they pack a hard hit, especially in the thigh.”

I’d heard about goats, but I was the animal whisperer after all, and I wasn’t going to be worried by a couple little goats and their hard heads.

He was right. It was different.

They all looked the same to me, so trying to milk a goat that had just been done nearly had me bitten.

They had teeth, and apparently it hurt. I kept my fingers tucked away after that.

But it was fun to have Jace teach me the way the goats were conditioned to approach when he had the bucket and wooden stool out for them to perch their front legs so he could go to town spitting the milk in the fistfuls.

We went from the goats to the chickens who were fed a mixture of feed and red chili flakes, as we forced our way into their coops to grab their eggs.

It was another job I hadn’t done before, and seeing how some of the chickens stuck around, not wanting to leave their eggs behind was also a new experience.

“Henrietta always stays behind, she’s like the neighborhood watch,” Jace said, filling his basket full of eggs.

“Yeah, well, I’d say she’s pretty bad at watching them.” As I turned from her, she pecked at my hand. “Fuck.”

“Oh yeah, she’ll do that if you’re not careful.”

I was so used to dealing with the bigger animals that I forgot how smaller ones behaved. I wondered if my animal whisperer title should be contested. But I’d only just arrived, and they’d all warm to me eventually. Everyone did.