Page 34 of I Knew You Were Trouble

My brows go up, but hey, what the hell? I look the brown spotted thief in the eye, trying to ignore how big her teeth are, and say, “Hey there, June. Mind if I have that back?”

June bobs her head up and down, and a smirk hits my lips.

“You do mind? But my noggin will get cold.”

She rumbles her lips around the hat, loading it with horse spit. I make a face and take a step back. “Never mind. You can keep it.”

The horse bends, putting her mouth inches from my face. I eye her warily, watching the spittle run down the material of my now lost forever beanie.

“Nope, I’m good,” I tell the horse, tentatively pushing her muzzle away. Wow, didn’t realize how soft horse noses were.

June doesn’t move, and my heart beats about a hundred times in the few seconds we have a stare off. Then, just when I’m thinking I should move, she sneezes.

I mean, she blows everything in her mouth straight at my face.

My hat, chunks of hay and carrot, and horse loogey covers my skin. I pinch my eyes shut, jolting at the sudden impact. Laughter and whinnying fills my ears, and I take a hand and wipe slowly down my face.

“Oh… my… gosh…” Candace wheezes. She’s bent at the waist, tears filling up those big brown eyes. The freckle in the corner of her mouth all but disappears as she cracks up at my expense.

“Luke is full of shit,” I say, whipping my hand at the ground. Spit and hay spatter across the stable floor.

“W-why?” Candace says, unable to regain her composure.

“He said the horses hadn’t eaten.” I point to my hay and carrot covered face. “I call bullshit.”

“Actually, that could be last night’s dinner.”

“Fabulous.”

“At least you got your hat back.”

“Yay.”

Candace wipes her cheeks free of laughter-tears and grabs my jacket sleeve, pulling me toward a sink kept on the side of the barn that leads to the fields.

“Uh… you left June’s stall open,” I tell her, checking over my shoulder.

“Peaches has her.”

What now?She tugs me forward while I watch a freaking one-foot dog take the horse rope and lead a very willing horse out of her stall.

“Damn… that dog’s better than me with these animals.”

“She’s had more practice.” Candace turns the faucet on and opens the mirror above the sink. I watch the dog lead a trotting horse to the field, and if horses could smirk, I swear June gives me just that as she passes.

Candace presses a wet towel to my cheek, jerking my attention to her. She starts wiping me down, but I take the towel from her and do it myself.

“Don’t think I’m cut out for the cowboy life,” I say, swiping a chunk of hay from my chin.

“I’m not much for it either,” she admits, leaning against the wall and watching me clean up. “I only do the fun parts.”

“Saddling and brushing?”

“Pretty much.” She kicks at some stray hay on the floor. “If you studied my list, you know I don’t do messes.”

“Yeah… I was gonna ask about that.” I turn to face her, but she’s still looking down at the ground. “How in the world are you a painter? That’s gotta be the messiest job.”

“I’m sure Mike Rowe would disagree.”

---