Page 5 of Wild and Unruly (Three Rivers Trevors Ranch #3)

bonnie

My heart rate was pounding as I made my way back to The Lodge, that name repeating over and over in my head.

Tommy Smith. Tommy Smith. Tommy Smith.

How? How, after all these years, is he still out there, causing problems and ruining lives? He should be behind bars.

Period.

Maybe it’s a different Tommy Smith. Maybe somewhere along the way, over the years I’ve been out of the game, a different guy with the same name moved to town and was in horses as well. The name wasn’t uncommon. It could be…

But no. I know, even without confirming the accusations, that they were talking about the same person I was thinking about.

Emotions on high alert, I stomp through the lobby and ignore the calling of my name from the sweet receptionist who I’m certain is terrified of me. I just…can’t right now. I can’t stop for her, I can’t think about anything else, I can’t pretend that I’m okay when I’m just…not .

My hand shakes as I push the key into the handle of my door, and I shove it open, dropping my bag way too haphazardly with my laptop in it, and sit on the edge of the bed, bending forward to place my head between my knees.

I have to get myself under control.

I try to picture peaceful things. Mountains, soothing waterfalls, birds chirping, fresh air, deer eating grass. None of it works. I take a deep breath, or as deep as my lungs allow as they seize, and tell myself to calm down.

A face pops into view, a charming smile and smooth tan skin, and I frown as I focus on the new object, confused as to why he is now in my head.

But…it works. Focusing on his grin, the way he affectionately petted the horse he was working with and took care of it, the way he talked with me as if we were old friends.

Slowly, I’m able to lift my head and open my eyes, my heart slowing enough for me to breathe normally.

I hold my finger over my wrist, counting as it slows, and take stock of the room around me. Damn. That was…rough. I can’t believe I actually made it all the way back before I broke down.

I look to the clock on the nightstand and see thirty minutes have passed since I got out of my truck.

My bag on the floor is partially dumped out, and I stand and make my way over to fix it.

Thankfully, my laptop is firmly intact, and I grab it, taking it out to the little porch area off of my room.

I set it on the table and take a deep breath of the fresh mountain air, letting it calm me down.

I take a seat on the little chair and turn on my computer, letting it load for a moment. My mind drifts to the way I got myself to calm down. That was new. And disturbing. I’ve known the man for all of two seconds, and he was already a soothing person to me?

But something about him was low stress. He didn’t seem to be the type of person who lived to make drama. He was just…him. And it was incredibly nice to see.

Still, he was a horse trainer and in the business that I have distanced myself from as much as I could stand.

I open my browser and type in Tommy Smith Horse Trainer and can feel the fury building in my veins at the sight of him before me.

I haven’t purposefully set eyes on him in years.

There was the occasional article where he may have been mentioned years ago, but where he competed, I didn’t pay much mind.

My job was to cover out-of-the-arena stories, farms all over the country, family businesses that still strived to keep their family farms going, and wholesome, kindhearted people working to make our country better.

Tommy Smith was someone I pushed far, far from my mind the moment I was told I needed to let things go and not pursue anything any further.

But he was the reason for my family falling apart, for my life going up in flames. He was the reason my mother was overbearing. He was the reason I saw the truth with my dad. He was the reason my brother was not the same person he used to be.

And I was told to let it go.

Anger burns in my veins, and a new thread of determination pushes me to keep searching for more and more information on him. I was sick and tired of the life my family had now because of this piece of shit.

If he did something to that client of Dani’s, if he hurt her or her horse, it was more proof that he was doing the same bullshit he did back then .

But why was he getting by with it? Why, if they had evidence against him, was he still allowed to show and not be behind bars where he should be?

Maybe that client would talk to me. But I wasn’t sure how to approach her without seeming suspicious. To them, I was a reporter, not a friend they could confide in.

I think about becoming their friend, about trying to worm my way in, but then his damn face pops up into my mind again, and I hesitate. If this family was anything like I thought they were, they were too kind and undeserving of that kind of treatment.

I can’t do that.

But I could be subtle and see if I could find some real justice for my brother.

My brother, who, because his horse wasn’t in the right frame of mind, was now stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

My brother who couldn’t ride ever again because his injury put him into a depression because riding and showing was once his entire life.

My brother, who would barely speak to anyone, when he was once my best friend in the entire world and now just…existed.

I picture him in my mind, staring out the window of the apartment he shared with my mother, a blank and hard expression on his face.

He barely left the apartment except to work his nine-to-five job. He didn’t engage with friends or family. His ex-girlfriend, who vowed to stay by his side, was somewhere on the East Coast now, far away from him and leaving him to his own fate.

And honestly, I couldn’t totally blame her. After a year of her trying, he snapped and yelled at her, begging her to leave him be and let him “rot.”

She left heartbroken, and he pulled himself deeper into his shell.

He needed to get out of the apartment, and God bless her, away from our mother, who worried over him constantly, probably making him feel like he was five years old.

I couldn’t hurt the Trevorses, and I didn’t want to hurt Stetson or any of their friends, but for justice for my brother, I was going to find out what happened, and I was going to find a way to make things right.

The sun was high in the sky the next day when I showed up to talk with Dani and her team again. Today I would get to meet her other cousin and get to see what kind of work she did with her equine therapy. I was more excited than I expected to be.

I park my truck and grab my phone, making sure the recorder is ready, and reach for my hefty camera, stepping out of the truck to strap my harnesses on so it can safely hang at my sides while I work but within easy reach so I can snap some good shots while I was at it.

Heading into the barn, I see a bustle of activity at the gate of their indoor arena and quietly head that way. There’s someone in the barn mucking stalls who waves happily at me before returning their attention to their work.

At the gate stands Dani and Stetson, watching who I assume is Logan, on a horse.

I lift the camera and snap the photo of the family together .

The click of the camera draws Stetson’s attention, and he grins broadly at me before walking away from the gate.

“Hey.” His voice is soft, and I nod my head at him, embarrassed that yesterday I pictured his face to get myself out of a panic attack.

Why did I do that?

“Logan’s mare he’s got is still a little fresh so we’re giving him quiet to work, but you’re welcome to come watch.

” He motions me forward, and I make my way to the gate, standing beside Dani.

Stetson stays right behind me, and I close my eyes at the close contact, feeling the heat radiate off of his body.

I don’t think he realizes how close we are to each other, and I don’t move away or say anything. I just give Dani a polite smile and turn my attention to the man on the horse.

Man, what did they feed these Cash boys? Logan has the same hard jawline that Stetson does, only his hair is a little longer under his cowboy hat and curled at the ends. His build and Stetsons are almost identical, though, and there’s a shiny metal wedding band on his left hand.

I watch him rub the horse on the neck and gently pull her head to one side, waving his leg on her right and making her turn. Then he lets off pressure, and she stops, keeping her head bent. He rubs her on her head before pushing her forward and turning her the other way.

He’s working on softening her. It’s a technique that I love, growing and building the trust between horse and rider, making the bond stronger and her attention to him more rapt.

I watch in fascination at the way he’s treating this horse, with so much patience and kindness that I nearly get emotional.

It’s the way every horse should be treated, and it kills me that it’s not. That there are “trainers” in the world that believe being rough with their horse is the only way to get them to listen.

“How much do you know about what he’s doing, Bonnie?” Dani asks, nodding toward Logan.

“I know he’s softening her, getting her to trust him. I love this technique.” I cross my arms, watching closely at how gentle he is with her as he starts trotting her around the arena, warming up her muscles.

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites too. So, have you been around horses long then?” Dani’s question sparks a hint of defensiveness in me, but when I look at her, I don’t see anything but curiosity.

“Yeah, most of my life.”

“What kind of discipline?”

I walked right into that one. “Mostly cutting. A little cow horse. I tried my hand at rodeo for a bit but was told it wasn’t going to cut it.”

Dani hums. “That’s interesting. Sometimes, the stigma between performance horses and rodeo is ridiculous. I’ve never understood what the big deal is.”

“Me either.” I shrug. “It’s all fun.”

“You’ll have to show us your skills while you’re here.” The voice comes from behind me, and I stiffen. Somehow, I’d forgotten he was there.

“It’s been a long time since I rode a horse.” Five years, at least.

“Well, that’s okay if you’re scared.” His voice is teasing, and I look over my shoulder to see a little gleam of humor in his eyes.

“Goading me into it won’t work.”

Stetson chuckles behind me but drops it, and Dani smiles, nudging me in the arm like we’re old friends. “Don’t let my cousins tease you. They’re all big babies in men’s bodies.”

“They don’t look like babies to me,” I blurt before I can think it all the way through.

Dani laughs quietly and shakes her head. “Don’t let them hear you say that.”

“I heard her, and I’m not letting that one go.”

I let my head fall into my hand and sigh. I really wish my inner monologue would stay…inner.

“Please do,” I say, keeping my eye on Logan as he works, trying to make it seem like I’m unaffected by the fact that I keep putting my foot in my mouth.

“Nah, I don’t think I will.”

Dani looks over my shoulder at Stetson, who I still haven’t looked at, and gives him a playful glare. “Be nice to our guest.”

“I am being nice. I’m making her feel like she’s part of the family.” He says it casually, and I hide the small smirk that spreads across my face.

“This is an interesting family,” I say, watching Logan wrap up for the day, and I turn to head back into the barn, meeting Stetson chest to chest and giving him my best fake reporter smile. “Excuse me, I think I’ll check out the barn before I chat with Logan.”

He turns, waving his hand out and giving me a wink. “Be our guest.”

I walk by quickly, feeling the blush creep up onto my cheeks, and tuck my head down until I’m out of eyesight from them both.

I need to find my filter because sooner or later, I’m going to really embarrass myself.