Page 2 of Save A Horse (Texas Rose Ranch #1)

Daisy

I had already completed the grimy chore of cleaning out the stalls. The stench of manure clung to my clothes as I scraped away the muck, wishing I could escape this foul task for good. It was my father’s fault I was here and doing dreadful tasks like these.

Now, I was supposed to go open the gate for Walt. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t ask his son, who wasn’t doing anything but getting his horse ready to ride, or better yet, get off the side-by-side he was sitting on and do it himself.

I hated that my father signed me up for this.

He knew I was a city girl now. I didn’t want this life anymore.

Yes, I had grown up on a ranch not far from this one, but I had spent the last seven years trying to forget this place.

Growing up so close to here is how my father and Walt met and became friends.

I guess you could say the two of them are best friends.

They spent a lot of time together as Colt and I grew up, helping each other out on their ranches- my father’s being a much smaller one and Walt’s Texas Rose Ranch being the vast land that was as far as the eyes could see- and sometimes sharing a beer when all the work was finished.

Our mothers were friends, too, and they liked to get together from time to time.

Rose was a sweet person, just like my mother, Ivy.

The day of high school graduation couldn’t come soon enough for me.

I was already packed and ready to get out of here and to the city- somewhere new and different.

The change of pace was much needed in my life.

Ever since graduating at eighteen, I have been in the city and never looked back.

Seven years away from this lifestyle wasn’t nearly long enough.

I tried to open the gate. I could tell the chains were older by their faded color, and they were pulled so tightly.

I was sweating, embarrassed that I couldn’t get the chain loose to open the gate for Walt.

I’m sure he is taking delight in this, though.

I knew he was a tough one- he had been growing up- but even more so since his wife passed years ago.

I remember the funeral. That was the only time I had come back to this place since leaving seven years ago.

My father knew what he was doing, putting me under Walt’s supervision for the summer.

I could only hope that the time passed quickly.

I was still pulling on the impossibly stiff chains, sweat beads forming above my upper lip.

I never sweat unless I mean to, like when I’m at the pool during the summer.

I closed my eyes for a second, praying that I could just get the chain loose so I could end this embarrassment.

It was washing over me like a wave, anxiety tightening its grip as I could feel the eyes of Walt waiting impatiently, making this simple task seem monumental and impossible.

I felt a hand brush against mine, a mix of warmth and discomfort.

I moved my hands back, watching the rough, calloused hands undoing the chains and noticing the small scars.

I’m sure after years of working on a ranch, you would have plenty of scars and marks on your body from all the strenuous and demanding labor.

He made opening the gate look so easy, and I kind of hated him for it.

I wondered why Colt was helping me. I wasn’t used to that, and we hadn’t spoken a word to each other since my father dropped me off here.

Walt drove on with his pal by his side once the gate was open, and Colt shut the gate behind him, ensuring nothing was going to get in or out.

I turned around and looked across at the cowboy.

I admired the way he swayed in those Wranglers- they fit him in all the right places.

He placed his left foot in the stirrup, throwing his right leg over the horse to get on.

He had a streak of sweat running down his grey shirt.

I wondered how he did what he did every day.

He rubbed the neck of his horse with those calloused hands of his.

I wondered how many years of hard work those hands had seen on this ranch- probably as long as he could walk.

That’s what you do as a cowboy, especially here in Texas.

“Thanks for the help.” He was sitting up so high on the horse.

I hadn’t been on a horse since I left Texas, and I wondered for a split second how it would feel again.

The only part I ever liked about being here the last couple of years I was here was riding.

I felt free. That was the only time I felt free in this place the last little bit I was in Garrity Valley.

The cowboy turned to me, giving me a slight smile. I couldn’t help but notice he had some sweat forming above his eyebrows. I would have to admit that he didn’t look too bad in a cowboy hat. I watched as the curls at the back of his neck blew in the wind as he rode away.