“What?” she asks. “It can’t be that difficult for you to remember.”
“It’s not,” I snap. “But I’m not here to muck. Beau said you needed help working with the horses. As in training them.”
Candice’s eyebrows shoot up and almost reach the brim of her cowboy hat. “Well, Nathan, my brother is not the manager of Star Mountain, I am. And I decide where volunteers are needed. Right now, we need help with just about everything,excepttraining.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” I sweep my eyes around the stables, which are clearly in need of a clean and some repairs. There’s hay everywhere. All of the locks on the doors are rusted. Old blankets are lying around, and I even see a pile of used horseshoes in the corner.
“What does that mean?” Candice hisses.
“That this place is clearly a mess,” I say.
“Okay,” she says. “Then you can fuckingclean it.” She grabs a nearby broom that’s leaning against the wall and slams it against my chest so hard I take a step back. “Community service starts right now.”
And then she’s gone, stomping past me and into what must be the barn office, slamming the door behind her. A few stalls down, Ballantine lifts his head up from the hay he’s been demolishing and snorts.
“I know,” I say. “I’m being an asshole.”
Still, I can’t help it. Candice isn’t easy to work with and I normally get along with everyone. It’s kind of my thing. But something about her—the haughty stomp of her boots as she walks, her fiery glare, and yes, her denim clad ass—just brings out the fucking worst in me. I’ve never been able to get along with my best friend’s little sister. In fact, we’ve basically hated one another from the moment we met, and I’m wishing that Beau had told me that she managed the barn. I imagined Beau and I working together every day, hanging out, and relaxing with a few beers in the evening. If I’m being honest, I thought that doing community service here would be a nice break from my old life.
Clearly, I was wrong. I put the broom down without sweeping up a single speck of dirt or hay, and then head out to find the bastard who convinced me to come here in the first place.
After a few minutes of walking around the stables and finding no sign of Beau, I make my way to the paddocks in the back of the property. I pass by a few curious faces and reach out to stroke some muzzles and introduce myself. There are more horses here than the last time I was at Star Mountain. That was years ago, back when Beau’s grandparents still ran the place, but it looks like he and his sister have expanded the place quite a bit since then. Though, based on the condition of the stable that may have more to do with them being unable to turn down an animal in need than it does with actual finances. Horse rescues and sanctuaries are tough to run.
I find Beau pacing in front of the ranch house, cell phone pressed against his ear.
“Yeah,” he says. “I can be there in fifteen.”
“Something going on?” I ask when he hangs up.
“When the hell did you get here?” he asks, ignoring my question. But he starts to walk at a clip towards where his truck is parked, and I follow along after him.
“About half an hour ago. I got Ballantine settled in and then the vip—Candice, I mean, uh showed me around.”
All Beau says in response is “Hm,” which is typical of him.
But when we reach his truck he says, “Want to come help me foal a mare?
I grin at him. “Hell yeah.”
On the wayback from the foaling, Beau and I stop at the Neon Horseshoe, the only bar in Star Mountain, for a beer. It’s quiet, and a far cry from the rowdy joints I’ve become used to, with only a few tables full of people. But I’m sure the town turns up in full force on Friday and Saturday nights.
“I haven’t seen that in a while,” I say when we sit down. “Not since I was a kid and we had a pregnant mare at the ranch.”
“Well I’ve got at least three other pregnant patients that might foal soon, so you’re in luck,” Beau says.
“Just look at its little face,” I say, holding my phone out to show him the photo I managed to snap of the brand-new foal. It’s a palomino color, like its mom. The owners are a couple who run a small dude ranch down the road from the rescue, and Beau is the vet for all of the horses they have.
Beau swigs slowly from his beer and then sets it down. “You should show that to Candice,” he says.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because she loves foals. She usually comes with me and will be upset that she missed it.”
Candice’s face, lighting up with joy, flashes through my mind. It’s a strange image, and one I think I’ve conjured up from thin air. Because I’m positive she’s never looked like that around me.
“Why don’t I send it to you and you can show her,” I say.
“Because I didn’t take the picture, Nate.”
