Chapter Ten

Ten

“Am I doing it?”

Can’t you tell? Mel wanted to ask. Instead, she bit back a chuckle and watched Eli attempt to guide his horse Red through a movement she called a “leg yield” that he kept referring to as a “side pass”. Like the time before, Red was trotting straight down the center of the arena, his spine rigid, not yielding in any way.

“Not quite,” she softened the blow. “You might try practicing on a circle before you attempt the straightaway.”

He pulled his solid chestnut gelding to a halt and gave her a bewildered look over his shoulder.

This time, Mel couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll show you.” Roman, who’d been dozing beneath her, snorted as she gathered the reins and tapped him lightly with her heels, moving him into a walk and then a trot.

It was nearly two weeks since she’d first arrived at Dry Creek and as the sun limped down to the horizon, she had a chance to work her own horse, and, tonight, to attempt to help Eli with his skills. Sweet though he was, he had a lot to learn in the saddle, and she was a bit surprised Larry had hired him on given his lack of knowledge.

It also encouraged her: if Eli was a loved and valued employee, then certainly she could bring some real value to the ranch and hadn’t been offered a position out of pity.

In the days past, she had not cranked her truck, had not left the ranch. Her time here had been a blur of early mornings on horseback – trying to teach flexibility and obedience, building stamina – and sticky hot afternoons scrubbing water troughs, cleaning tack, and leaping at every random chore given to her. She spent a lot of time with Nora talking about the training prospects, and then usually listening to Dan’s own version of things. She had helped feed the cattle and pick the broodmares’ hooves, had laughed at the foals and admired the three stallions that only Toto, Larry and Dan had leave to touch. And in the waning light of the evenings, she’d hauled her weary, saddle-sore body up onto Roman.

Tonight, like all the nights before, she was damp with sweat, thoroughly exhausted, but filled with a tentative happiness. She was tan and talkative and felt more at home on this real, working farm, dirt on her jeans, manure on her boots, than she had in Carlton’s pristine, expensive barn. With the exception of Dan’s aloof mistrust, there was no competition here, no agenda. The Shaws and their hands loved horses and enjoyed their work.

“It’s just Red,” Eli said as Mel moved her horse from an ever-expanding circle into a clean straight line, then sent him sideways toward the rail. “Roman’s been trained to do that.”

“Red can do it too,” she assured.

“But he’s not.”

Not wanting to insult him, she asked, “do you want me to try?” in a voice she hoped was sweet.

Eli nodded. “Sure. Can’t get any worse than he is now.”

Roman nudged at Eli’s shoulder as the cowboy took his reins, then adopted a bored expression that Mel recognized as his typical I-don’t-like-strangers face. She mounted Red – after two weeks she was still out of her element in the big western saddle – gave up on the idea of shortening the stirrups and draped her legs over the horse’s sides, relying on balance alone to keep her in place.

“Start small,” she said, dusting off her instructor voice. She used gentle lower leg pressure to move Red a few steps sideways. “Then you do it while walking, then trotting. You just gotta be relaxed and gentle, really focus on keeping him loose, flexible…it’s all about feel instead of automatically pushing buttons.”

Slim stood at the rail, his arms looped over the top board, and chuckled. “Pay attention, kid,” he told Eli. “That last bit applies to women too and not just horses.”

Mel choked on a laugh as she urged Red into a trot and started down the center of the arena.

“Oh yeah?” Eli shot back. “Who was the one who got all the numbers the last time we were at Dixon’s? Huh?”

“How many of those numbers connected you to Pizza Hut?”

While they bantered, Mel put Eli’s horse through a series of successful leg yields and then pulled him up at the rail. Larry had joined them and thumped Eli in the arm.

“You were too busy runnin’ your mouth – did you see your horse?”

“Oh, shit,” he whipped his head around and seemed surprised to see Mel and Red right in front of him. His pale blue eyes were wide with disappointment and Mel tried not to grin. “Did I miss it?”

“I’ll take him around again,” she offered.

“Don’t take too long,” Larry told her. “Nora’s made enough food to feed us all through the winter. Come on up to the house for dinner when you’re done.”

-O-

Mel had been living off a cache of Power Bars and the groceries Nora had brought up to the apartment on the first day. The rancher’s wife usually supplied them with lunch down at the barn, but Mel had been fixing her own pasta and salads for dinner each night. As she slid onto one of the two benches flanking the Shaws’ big ranch table in the house’s sun room, she wondered how often Nora hosted this kind of dinner for all of them.

Night had fallen and the rough-hewn wooden chandelier above them cast warm, muted lamplight down on the plank table that was covered with dishes. The windows of the sunroom were black, but inside, the atmosphere was cozy, air conditioning beating back the dripping humidity of a Florida July night.

Mel was seated down on the end of one bench next to Nora, Larry and Eli. Across from them, Slim, Toto and Dan had situated themselves – not on purpose, she suspected – so that Dan was across from Mel. They were on cordial terms, but she would have rather had Toto’s smiling face opposite hers. Dan’s harsh features and unreadable looks left her stomach tingling sometimes.

As Nora picked up the first platter and began passing it around the table, Mel was disappointed, but not surprised, that the conversation turned toward her. “Tomorrow it’ll be two weeks,” Nora said, meaning the two weeks since Melanie’s arrival. “Whatcha think?”

I think that was a loaded question, she wanted to answer. But instead scooped some rosemary potatoes onto her plate and stalled for time. “It’s been a big change in a short time,” she said, and Dan’s eyes snapped up, narrow and harsh, daring her to say something uppity about the ranch. She bit back the frown she wanted to give him. “But a good change.”

“We’re not so stuffy over here,” Larry said.

“No,” Mel agreed. “And thank God for that.”

A ripple of chuckles ran around the table.

“Y’all talk about those Carlton people,” Eli said, “what’s the big deal? If they’re such assholes, why’d you go work for them?”

“Because it was a great opportunity,” she said with a regretful sigh. “Arthur and Marissa Carlton have a serious reputation on the East coast.”

Larry snorted.

But his wife nodded in agreement. “If you get in with a big barn with big name trainers, your name gets out there and you start building your own reputation.”

“And they can ride,” Mel said. “They’re snide jerks, sure, but they’re talented.” She accepted the basket of rolls and put one on her plate, mentally calculating the extra minutes she’d have to add to her workout the next morning. “I got to a point where I knew that if I wanted to go any further with my dressage, I had to hook up with a show barn like Carlton.”

“Why?” Eli asked, drawing exasperated looks from his fellow ranch hands.

“Top notch training,” Mel said, “access to high quality horses.”

“And for some reason, you’re here instead,” Dan said.

His tone had been light, but when Mel glanced his way, she saw his disapproving smirk.

“Top notch dressage training offends you?” she guessed, voice carefully neutral. She turned her attention to her plate in a pointed way, slicing her pork tenderloin like she couldn’t care less if he responded. She realized, with an attack of conscience, that it was exactly the kind of move Marissa Carlton would have used to suggest whoever she was speaking to was beneath her. But Dan had invited this.

“Must have offended you,” his response was just as cool as hers had been. “Or you’d still be there. Maybe they were a little too ‘top notch’ for ya.”

When she fired a glare up at him, she saw his half-smile and hated that she’d taken the bait. Smoothing her features, she shrugged. “No. Playing cowgirl for a little while sounded a lot less stressful.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. It would have been one thing if she’d been alone with Dan, but to say what she had in front of the ranch owners and hands who’d made her feel welcome, who’d tucked her under their wings seemingly for no reason other than kindness…that sin was unforgiveable.

“Oh, God,” she stammered, “I’m so sorry, I…” she trailed off as she glanced around the table and saw that, though Larry and Nora weren’t outwardly smiling, both had amused laughter dancing in their eyes. Eli blinked his wide, blue eyes in shock, but Slim and Toto both had their heads ducked, smiles barely visible.

Larry winked at her. “You’re right, darlin’,” he said. “A lot less stressful.”

Mel spent the rest of the meal in mortified silence, picking at her food, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her. After dinner, she helped Nora clear the dishes while the men went off to Larry’s study, wherever that was.

“Oh, Nora,” Mel said when they were alone, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest -,”

The rancher’s wife cut her off with a wave. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”

“I wasn’t trying to insult you or Larry. Or anyone.”

“Except Daniel,” Nora said with a grin. She shook her head, her strawberry-blonde bob swaying above her shoulders, as she turned on the tap at the sink and poured a generous dollop of Palmolive to the water that began to rise. “He had it coming, trust me.”

Mel finished loading the dishwasher and then took up a post at Nora’s side so she could towel dry the pots as they were scrubbed and rinsed. “I know better, though,” she said. “It doesn’t pay to be rude. I should go apologize to him. To all of them.”

“No, no, no,” Nora snagged her wrist with a wet, soapy hand as Mel started to step away. Her big eyes were serious, but she was smiling. “Larry and Toto and the rest know you were defending yourself. And they would have thought less of you if you hadn’t.”

“I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“You’re fine, honey,” Nora assured with a chuckle. “You think those boys don’t give each other grief every day? They don’t get their feelings hurt.” She rinsed the baking pan and handed it over. “And it’s so nice not to be so outnumbered anymore. I miss having another girl around.”

“Another girl?”

Mel glanced sideways and caught the tense, pained expression that flitted across Nora’s face, but then it was gone. The rancher’s wife wet her lips and stared down into the soapy water, scrubbing at a sauté pan with grim determination. Unless garlic butter was excessively stubborn, Mel thought she must have touched on a sensitive nerve. She wanted to retract the question, and couldn’t, but didn’t know if she should drop it completely. After a moment of silence filled with the sounds of sloshing water and clanging pots, she ventured a safe guess.

“I suppose,” Mel said slowly, “those rocket scientists Dan brings around aren’t very good company.”

Nora burst into loud, spontaneous laughter. “No they’re not! And you should see the little trollops Eli’s been after…and that boy doesn’t need anything or anyone to bring down his IQ points.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Oh, believe me.”

Nora launched into a flamboyant description of the females who were shuffled in and out of the cabins and whatever dark thought that had put creases between her eyes seemed to have vanished for the moment.

“Come on,” Nora said as she toweled her hands off once the last of the mess had been cleared away. She plucked a bottle of wine from a rack positioned on the giant marble island and went to the cabinet for glasses. “I hate to be inside on a night like this. Let’s hit the porch.”

Had Marissa Carlton ever invited one of her employees to share wine with her on the porch, Mel might have fainted with shock. When Nora asked, she smiled. Her line to Dan had been true: Dry Creek was much less stressful.

“Do you mind if I use your restroom first?”

“Go right ahead. It’s just down the hall on your right,” Nora directed her with the white zin bottle as she backed her way through the door out onto the porch.

“I’ll be right back,” Mel promised.

She was three steps from the kitchen when she realized finding the bathroom was more difficult than going down the hall. Mainly because there was no hall. An expansive family room done in earth tones and dominated by a huge leather sectional sofa and matching chairs stretched before her, soft lamplight revealing built-in bookshelves and a flat-screen TV mounted above a white tile fireplace. After she took a moment to appreciate the homey, comfortable room, Mel noticed the mouth of a hall beyond, and headed in that direction, assuming it must lead to the bathroom.

An open door to her right revealed a powder room. A few feet beyond, light spilled from the narrow opening of a cracked door and a din of male voices tumbled out into the hall, too loud to ignore. The study, she figured, and started to step into the powder room.

“I dunno, boss,” Toto’s voice halted her. Mel knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but she lingered in the dark hall, frozen with her fingertips against the bathroom door, overwhelmed with curiosity.

“Me neither,” she heard Slim agree. “She’s a sweet girl, and she rides good and all, but that’s not what our customers are payin’ for.”

They’re talking about me. A shudder went hurtling down her spine at the realization. Goose bumps prickled on her arms.

“Hayley and her mama were working the roping horses for a while,” Larry said. “Never had any complaints.”

“We knew Hayley,” Dan’s voice was low and quiet in comparison to the loud, Southern drawls of the other men. Mel’s spine stiffened. “I think you shoulda spent more time getting to know her before you threw her up on the horses.”

“We’re short-handed,” Eli said.

“And she does ride better than you,” Toto told him.

A beat of silence passed in which Mel’s ears were thumping with the sound of her pulse. Here she’d been feeling welcome and beneficial, like she mattered again…

“I may give her another week before I make up my mind,” Larry said. “I do hate to toss out a girl who’s hit a bad streak of luck.”

Someone snorted, and then Dan’s voice signaled it had been him. “Yeah, you’re a real saint, Larry.” Someone chuckled. “But we all know this isn’t about luck. Use her to find Hayley, or let her go. We sure as shit don’t need her around here.”

Not daring to listen to the rest, Mel whirled around and hurried as silently as she could through the family room, her heart racing, a lump forming in her throat. She didn’t really know these people and hadn’t expected even as much kindness as they’d shown her. But what she hated more than anything was feeling like a useless burden. Marissa Carlton had told her she was worthless. Now Larry Shaw and his crew were “using” her, whatever that meant.

The polite smiles and warm greetings had been fake. They all really felt the same way Dan did: they sure as shit didn’t need her around.

She went through the kitchen in a rush, boot heels rapping against the floor. She exited through the side door and heard Nora call her name as she headed back down the moonlit path toward the barn.

But she kept going, shaking on the inside, stiff as stone on the outside. She’d be damned if she allowed these “users” to see that she cared about their opinions.