Page 7 of The Earl’s Wrangler (Cowboy Nobility #3)

“I HEARD what you did,” Chip said to Randall as they all arrived back in the yard.

The sun was setting, and Sawyer was exhausted.

He had been ill at ease since his horse tried to bolt, and he was damned lucky Randall had been there and knew what to do.

Otherwise, it was likely he would have been dumped, stomped, and stranded in the middle of nowhere.

“It was nothing,” Randall said, which rankled Sawyer. As though potentially saving his life meant nothing.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Chip said. “Remember that town is over ten miles away, and you were well over a mile from anyone else. If Sawyer had been hurt, it would have taken a long time to get help. People can die out here.” He was so serious, and Randall nodded slowly.

“Then I’m just glad I could help,” Randall said softly. “I’ve spent a lot of time around horses.”

“I didn’t know that,” George said. “I thought your family had given up much of their livestock.”

“My father did. He sold most of our breeding stock when I was a teenager. He said it was too expensive for not enough reward. Then he turned the stables into the gift shop and tea house for the tourists. I have two horses on the estate now, and that’s it.”

Alan shrugged. “That’s really sad. Why would he do that? Even I know that you used to breed top-notch racers.”

Randall blinked and his cheeks reddened, but he remained still, glancing around.

“We need to get the horses unsaddled and watered,” Sawyer said and led the horses away. Judging by the fact that the usually talkative Randall was suddenly really quiet, he needed a way to get away from the gossip. “They did good.”

“Yes, they did.” Randall followed him, and once the horses were in their stalls, Randall worked to unsaddle his mount, speaking quietly to the horse.

Sawyer shook his head at his big brown-eyed beast. “You really had me scared there for a while,” he told the horse, unfastening the girth and pulling off the saddle and blanket.

“But you did good work nonetheless.” He patted his neck before combing him out and checking his hooves.

Then he made sure he had plenty of water and hay as well as some oats before leaving the stall.

He met Randall as he headed to the tack room to put everything away.

“Did your father really sell the horses?” Sawyer asked. Randall nodded. “Was it because you wanted to be a jockey?”

Randall nodded once more. “He had definite plans for me, and he made sure they came to pass. He also made quite a bit of money off the deal, and what he did is still helping to pay for the upkeep of the estate.” He made it sound logical, but Sawyer figured there was a lot more to it.

It was none of his business. A man was entitled to his own thoughts and his own counsel. He didn’t need others butting in.

Sawyer finished putting everything away, his stomach growling. Then he made sure that all the horses were bedded down for the night before leaving the barn. “It’s time for dinner.” He closed up and went in to eat, grateful it wasn’t his turn to cook.

SAWYER LAY in his room in the bunkhouse, on his side, trying to sleep.

He knew he shouldn’t let this uppity earl get to him, but he kept thinking about what a pain in the ass the man was and yet how he hadn’t thought twice before saving Sawyer’s butt out there.

He turned over again, trying not to visualize those eyes or the hurt in them when he’d told Sawyer about his father.

Sawyer knew firsthand what it was like to live with a father who wanted to control everything, including his wife and son.

He pulled the blankets up to his neck, trying to stop the shiver that went through him.

He is not here, and I’m free of him. Sawyer told himself that over and over in order to calm the jitters that took over whenever he thought of the old asshole.

It had taken a long time before he didn’t think about what he had done to him, how his father had made his life miserable.

He took deep breaths and clamped his eyes closed, bringing up better memories, like the ones he’d made working here, where he was valued.

He tried to sleep, but the clock next to the bed showed almost midnight.

He got up and quietly left the room, intending to get a drink of water.

A single light shone in the small living area.

He peered down to find Harley sitting in a chair reading.

He was one of the hands that had been on the ranch for years.

“Did I wake you?” Harley asked, setting his book aside.

“Sometimes I can’t sleep, so I get up and read. ”

“No. You were fine. I can’t sleep either.” He got his drink of water and intended to go back to bed. “Too many things to think about.”

“You can’t let what happened today bother you. It’s happened to all of us. Horses are creatures, and they have minds of their own. They’re both strong and delicate, and they get startled. It had nothing to do with you.” Leave it to Harley to have a sensible view of things.

“It’s not that, but thank you.” He sat down and put his feet up.

“My mind keeps churning around and around, and I can’t get it to stop.

” He sighed and wished he could settle down.

He had to be up at six and had a full day ahead.

He should be exhausted after the day he’d had, but he was still wide-awake.

“You could try reading or something. I sometimes watch television, but that would probably keep the guys up,” he said softly before handing Sawyer a book.

“ Moby Dick ?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s long and drawn out. There’s a good story, but I bet after less than an hour, it will put you to sleep.

” He smiled, and Sawyer opened the book and began to read.

Sure enough, after about twenty pages, he was struggling to stay awake.

He set the book aside, returning to his room.

This time when he closed his eyes, he managed to keep his mind from whirring and finally fell asleep.

AFTER DRESSING and coffee, Sawyer went to the barn and turned out the horses. He had slept late without meaning to, but was grateful that Randall hadn’t come out yet. Though he wasn’t actually sure he was going to. It was always possible that Alan had assigned him somewhere else.

“The three colts should be arriving in a couple of hours,” Mrs. Justice told him as he closed one of the stall doors. He hadn’t even heard her coming.

“All right. Do you want to see the stalls? I have them ready.” He took her back to where fresh bedding awaited the new arrivals.

“Excellent.”

“And I thought we could put them out in the paddock together. There’s enough room, and they shouldn’t bother each other too much.”

She nodded. “I agree, and once they get settled, you can start training them. All three horses are blank slates, so I want to train them right. And we have plenty of time. I’m not interested in breaking these horses.

I want to start them. Get them used to us and working with people.

That way once they’re ready for the saddle, they’ll take it easily. ”

“What sort of training are you interested in?”

“All three of these horses should be cutters, but you know how things go. Some horses don’t work out the way their breeding says they should. So we’ll start there and let the colts tell us where their strengths are.”

“Sounds good to me.” Sawyer waited to see if she had anything else before returning to work.

He finished getting the stalls set up with hay and water.

The rest of the horses were out in their paddocks, so it was a good time to get those stalls spot cleaned and fresh bedding laid down.

“Is Randall coming out?” he asked before she left.

“He went with George and Alan this morning.”

Sawyer nodded and turned away. It was time to get the job done and stop letting his attention wander to Randall.

What he really needed to do was get the man out of his head, and the easiest way to do that was to spend as much time away from him as possible.

Sawyer should have been happy not to work with Randall today. Why was he disappointed instead?

ALAN, GEORGE, Chip, and Randall leaned on the paddock fence later that afternoon, watching the horses. “These are the new colts?” George asked with a smile. “They look great.”

“I thought so,” Sawyer said, setting the pitchfork aside before joining them. Thankfully his work was finished for the day, and he could finally take a breather. “They’re just settling in and finding their way around. It will take some time before they’re ready for any kind of training.”

“Mom has a really good eye,” Chip agreed as more of the men gathered to watch the young horses.

They frolicked and chased one another around the paddock.

It was a great thing to see, and Sawyer found himself smiling as he leaned against the fence, almost touching Randall, but not quite.

There weren’t many times when everything seemed to grind to a halt, not on a ranch, but this was one of them.

The new horses captured everyone’s attention.

Sawyer turned to find a smile on Randall’s face, and it stayed in place when he looked at him, the two of them sharing the contentment of one of the simple joys of life.

These moments never lasted long enough, and the crunch of tires on the gravel drive pulled Sawyer’s attention.

An old, dented truck with spots of rust marring the faded black paint came to a stop near the barn.

The others turned as well. Alan pushed away from the fence.

“Can I help you?” he asked as he strode toward the truck.

A voice Sawyer had hoped he’d never hear again answered just as he turned back to the colts. Instantly, he straightened, tightness forming in his belly and running down his back. “Who is that?” Randall asked from next to him.

Sawyer swallowed and slowly turned around, staring at the barrel-chested man with gray hair and stone-cold eyes.

“My father,” he answered, the words turning to chalk in his mouth.

As much as he wanted to turn and walk away, he knew he couldn’t leave Alan or anyone else on the ranch to deal with the old bastard.

“What do you want?” he asked as he approached.

“Is that any way to greet your old man? I haven’t seen you in—”

“Four years and three months,” Sawyer spat. “So I’ll ask again, what do you want?” He refused to turn away from him. Sawyer was no longer a child, and even though years of conditioning tried to kick in, he refused to let them take hold.

“Do you want us to make him leave?” Randall asked from right next to him. He hadn’t even realized he was there. “We will if that’s what you want.” He wasn’t loud, but the force in his voice gave Sawyer strength.

“No. I just want to know why he’s here.” He never took his gaze off the man. He didn’t dare.

“Can’t a father stop in to say hello to his son?” his father asked in a gentle tone that Sawyer knew was completely false and only for the benefit of the others around.

“They can, but you don’t. You want something, so you may as well spit it out.” He clenched his fists and then released them.

“Why don’t we give them a chance to talk?” Alan said, guiding the others away.

Sawyer was grateful. The last thing he wanted was to have an audience for a conversation with his POS father.

“Fine. We can talk in the barn,” Sawyer said, leading his father out of the yard. At first Randall held back, but Sawyer turned toward him, and Randall followed.

“I’d like to speak to my son alone,” his father said to Randall, who folded his arms over his chest, doing his best imitation of a cowboy.

“And I’d like to be a prince of the realm, but that isn’t going to happen either.” Damn, his accent came out even more when he used his formal drawing-room voice. “It’s clear that Sawyer doesn’t want to speak to you or see you, so it’s best that there is a witness.”

Sawyer cleared his throat.

“Who’s the uppity fella?”

“Oh,” Sawyer said. “That’s Randall. He’s the Earl of Plymouth, apparently.

The man who suggested we speak privately is married to the Duke of Northumberland.

” He flashed a quick smile. “Yeah. You wandered into the part of Wyoming that’s just chock full of cowboy nobility.

Tell me what you want so I can go back to my life and you can get the hell out of here. ”

“You owe me, boy.” There was the tone he was used to. “I brought you into this world….”

“And what?” Randall snapped. “You think you can threaten him?” Damn, he drew himself upward.

“It’s all right,” Sawyer said as levelly as he could.

“He’s come all this way for nothing. What happened—did you lose your job?

” He saw his father flinch ever so slightly and knew he’d gotten it in one.

“And now he needs money. Well, he isn’t getting any of mine.

” He was staring at him and ready for a reaction, but he still didn’t see the slap coming.

Sawyer took a step back, his cheek stinging.

“Dammit,” he said with a scowl, turning back just as his father went down to his knees.

“You treat your son better than that, you stupid git,” Randall swore, hitting Sawyer’s father with an uppercut that sent him back into a sprawl on the concrete. “Get up if you want more, because I’ll be happy to give it to you.”

“What the fuck?” Alan demanded as he raced inside.

“He hit Sawyer, so I took care of the problem,” Randall said as through he’d just put his dishes in the sink.

Like this was a normal day and he hadn’t just taken down Sawyer’s much bigger father.

“I think this man has had enough and it’s time for him to go.

Maybe drive him toward town and toss him in a gutter, where he belongs. ”

Alan seemed amused. “All right. What do you want, Sawyer?”

“Him to be gone.” Sawyer’s cheek still stung, along with his pride. He hated that his father had treated him that way, but even more, he hated that others had seen his weakness. That made him wish a hole would open up and swallow him.