Page 52 of Rough Ride with the Grumpy Cowboy
I have yet to know what he wanted, but I’m not curious enough to ask. I have a feeling it will ruin my mood.
“I have every right to be nosy—I am your father.”
I scoff as I pick up the chart hung up on the door of our latest arrival. With Lilly gone, we had room for one more, and this one is a male—Diesel, a twenty-six-year-old Appaloosa with the most striking spotted coat. He’s had a good run, and now we’re gonna make sure he lives out his final days happy and in a safe, warm place.
“How is she doing?” he asks, and I don’t need to ask who he’s talking about.
“She was still sleeping when I left. I think she’s good for now, but I still don’t know what really happened,” I explain.
“I’m glad she’s okay. We were all very worried, and I don’t know either, but I can tell you this—if you’re patient enough, she will come to you,” he advises.
“Patience has never been a virtue of mine.”
He pats my shoulder comfortingly. “Unfortunately, but you’re going to have to learn if you want to be with her.”
“I never said I did,” I defend.
He smirks, adding a squeeze to his pat. “You don’t have to—it’s all in your eyes. Food for thought. Have a good day, son.”
With that, he saunters away, leaving me with lots to think about. I haven’t really considered what the end game looks like for Ava and me. Even if she ends up opening up to me and we start something, her time here is limited, with half of it already gone.
She’s a world-famous star who belongs on the big stages, while I’m a simple ranch foreman whose life revolves around Iron Stallion. We are worlds apart, so I don’t know how we can ever work out. She’s only here on vacation, so I might just be a fling to her—one that will be forgotten once she’s back in LA.
This train of thought dampens my mood, so I find myself wandering to the stall of the one girl who will never leave me or break my heart. Jaz looks happy to see me, and her attitude puts me in a much better state.
I’m cleaning out her stall when we receive company. Ava is here, all smiles as she stands on the other side of the gate to Jaz’s stall. She’s wearing her own jeans, but she’s still in my t-shirt. Something about her in my clothes just fits right, and I hope she never stops wearing them.
I walk up to her, glad to see her up and about. “You look well-rested.”
“I’ve slept a lot, so how can I not?” she replies.
“Have you eaten?” I query, already afraid of the answer.
I’m worried about Ava. She’s supposed to be in our care, but every time I see her, she seems to have lost more and more weight. I’ve had to intimidate her multiple times to at least eat something. She cannot live on coffee and energy drinks alone unless she wants to fade into nothing, and I’m not going to let that happen on my watch.
“What’s her name?” she asks, reaching out to touch Jaz, who is happy to receive the attention.
I know she’s trying to distract me, and I let her—for now.
“Jaz, short for Jasmine.”
“Jaz,” she echoes, testing the name on her lips. “It’s beautiful, just like her.”
I don’t respond, but I nod ever so subtly, agreeing with her. I named her myself, so her name has a special meaning to me—one that has always connected me to the very beauty who is with us in this stall right now. Maybe I’ll tell her about it one day.
“Can I brush her coat?” she requests.
“Sure, she loves that,” I reply, unlatching the gate to let her in.
She finds the brush herself and proceeds to indulge herself and Jaz. I pick up the rake and resume my duties but keep an eye on my two girls while doing so.
I don’t know why Ava is here, but I’m not about to start questioning that—I’m just glad that she is. It’s a comfortable silence until she drops a bomb on me.
“She used to exploit me,” Ava says so quietly, I almost fail to catch the words.
“What?”
She doesn’t pause the brushing or turn to look at me, so I move closer to hear her better.
