Page 85 of Tough Love

“I’m more worried about Rocket than anything else.”

“Sure, we’ll break for a bit.”

“Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do?”

“No, this is what it is. The descent is always the hardest part. We’ll make it.”

But his words aren’t reflected in his worry-filled eyes. I know he is under pressure to bring every beast home. Harry’s orders. And the ranch needs the income. Nobody talks about it, but it is evident in everything that they do, every penny counts. Especially when they are in business with other people, such as Justin Morley.

I hope Harry knows what he’s doing with that one. Morley is not what I would call a stand-up guy in any field. But Harry is nobody’s fool. He’s probably been waiting for the day he can afford to buy that shithead out. Wouldn’t that besomething.

Ned and his mare appear by my side. “She’s doing good today. You have the magic touch, Miss Addy.”

“Actually, I didn’t find a stone bruise. Maybe it was a small rock or something under one of her shoes, but it worked its way out. Either way, there was no damage I could see.”

Ned gives my arm a squeeze and walks off to sit on a log. It must be a hard job for the older men.

I pluck the canteen from the side of my saddle and suck down a few mouthfuls. I hold my water out to Hudson. “Drink.”

He takes it and guzzles it, letting water spill and run down his throat, eyes closed. Butterflies take flight in my belly, and I can’t keep my lips from turning up into a smile. God, this man. When he swallows, he wipes his jaw and hands me back the canteen. I touch his jaw and dot a kiss to his lips. “Relax, Huddy, you’re brilliant at this.”

He huffs a strangled laugh and shakes his head. “Tell that to Harry.”

“Hudson,” I whisper but he walks away, taking Sergeant’s reins from my hands. I wrap my fingers around Rocket’s reins where he let them swing and rub a hand up the gelding’s face. “You’re amazing, you know that, Rocket? Look at you two go.” His breathing is a little slower. Walking him in another small circle, I wet his muzzle with my canteen. He laps at the water, and I drop my forehead to his cheek. “We’ll take it steady for a while.”

When Mick whistles, we are off again. With the stirrups adjusted to my length, I swing into Rocket’s saddle. It’s softer than mine. Worn to Hudson’s seat. The gelding walks on as we follow the rear of the herd. I secure Mira’s reins around the pommel, and she falls in beside Rocket. I make a point of rubbing his neck as we go, talking tenderly to him, hoping he settles from the pent-up state he was in before.

When a smaller beast straggles behind and wanders off to the west, I trot through the trees and head it back. Rocket negotiates the forest well and Mira is all but glued to his side. “Hup, hup.” I wave my hand to the side, pushing it back into the mob. An ache settles in my hips.

Keeping a keen eye on the animals at the back of the herd, I’m always looking for stragglers. This roundup means everything to Hudson. Every beast makes it down this mountain. Period. Only another night until we are back to the rendezvous point. And I am looking forward to seeing Mack and Reed. Not to mention Louisa. And her cooking. It’s worlds better than the rations we have been on.

But I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. It has me wondering if it would be plausible to take my vacation time and come and help on the ranch every roundup time. And then the thought that if I was visiting once a year, that would mean Hudson and I were no longer a thing. Are we even now? He is... His life is here.

Mine isn’t.

At least, it isn’t what I planned for myself. For my career. Working on cats and dogs day in, day out isn’t where I wanted to be. And it’s definitely not where my specialization lies. Another few head straggle over the timbered forest floor, and I push them back into the mob with Rocket’s help. “What do you think, Rocket? What would you do, hey, boy?” I lean forward but pain shoots through my left hip and I sit back with a hiss.

His head dips with every steady, grueling step down the mountain, putting a whole new meaning to the word workhorse. I search the front of the mob to find that white Stetson bobbing in front of the cattle. It stills before sliding sideways and I watch in utter fascination as Sergeant works, cutting back and forth, holding the hairy cattle back every time one of them gets the idea to run ahead. He is precise and so quick. God, he must be so damn bored with my quaint riding sessions. Patience in spades, that sweet horse. Like his owner.

Stifling the ache in my chest, I search the timbers on either side of me, making sure no herd member has been left behind. Itwill not be for lack of focus on my part that Hudson loses a single head of this mob.

Mick is yelling to Ned when I glance back to the noisy herd. A beast breaks away on Ned’s side.

He flies off after it, weaving between the trees ’til he rounds it and herds it back. His mare is agile and alert. These working horses are as in their element as their riders. It’s brilliant to witness. And I can tell, this life is something that would suck you in and hold you hostage. And men like Harry and Hudson wouldn’t have it any other way.

Or maybe they never stood a chance.

The sun has reached her apex when we clear the tree line of the world’s hardest mountainside and the rest of the mob, horses, and cowboys come into view. Ned whoops, throwing a hand up. Mick growls something that sounds like “about fucking time.” One hand on my stiff, painful hip, I sway with Sergeant as he takes us down the last steep section. When we finally reach the flat, I sigh. Ned halts his horse as the mob reaches the bigger one and waits for me. “How you holding up, Miss Addy? Sergeant taking good care of you?”

I swallow, hoping he doesn’t notice the heat in my cheeks from the pain in my lower back and both hips now.

“Your mare is doing so well. You’re an amazing team, Ned.”

He tilts his head, smiling. Apparently not missing the fact that I deflected his question at all. “We have been together a long time. When you spend this much time with someone, you can practically read each other’s minds.”

I smile back. I know that relationship between horse and rider, the intimate connection that time affords you both, well. I had it with Jewls. Hudson dismounts and hands Rocket over to Mack. He spins back and walks my way. I shift and my hips are locked up. Stiff beyond movement without pain.

Shit.

---