Page 3 of Coiled Tight
I stood strong, and Swiftheart now thrived with us. And maybe she was more attached to me than any of the other horses—or it was the sentimentality talking and making me see what wasn’t there.
Through my musings, Swiftheart had kept on to the path—it was somewhat remarkable; her attention span wasn’t the best at times—and I could see a hint of dirty blonde hair glinting in the sun next to a neon blue suitcase. The suitcase looked like it weighed more than the guy.
I didn’t want to judge, but all the vets that had worked with us were the burly types, the ones that could lift the dead weight of a horse if they had to. They didn’t look as fearful as this guy did either. He hadn’t even given me his name, now that I thought about it.
I urged Swiftheart to move faster, my fingers tightening around the bridle as she picked up speed. While I tried to gather more details on the guy I was approaching—like the way he didn’t stand to his full weight or how mussed up his short hair looked—I ran a mental checklist of the tasks I’d set for the day. There was no way I’d get to them today if I was expected to show the new vet around, and that meant delegating to the ranch hands.
They wouldn’t be happy with the idea, especially since I doubted they’d had more of an inkling than I did about the new hire, but there was little I could do about it.
The guy looked up when he must’ve heard the hooves of the mare drawing closer. I grimaced as I saw what looked like fear or anxiety etched in the widening of his eyes. He couldn’t be scared of horses, could he? My father might be losing histouch in his old age, but he wouldn’t have beenthatcareless in hiring someone.
I shook my head.
That anxiety shifted when he looked up more properly, replaced with awe while staring at Swiftheart.
I could get behind the sentiment. Maybe I had been too quick to judge, and he was just the kind of guy who got the jitters on a first day. The look on his face was one I had seen many times in the rescue. It was the look of an animal lover.
There weren’t many things that altered my perception of someone as that trait.
When I was close enough, I dismounted Swiftheart and checked that the saddle sat comfortably in place before walking the distance to the back gate, bridle in hand. Swiftheart was not one to run away or cause trouble, but she could be independent. It had been a while, but when she was younger, she’d earned a reputation for leaving me stranded at random places because she’d rather run back to the stables to munch on some hay.
The corners of my lips twitched up at the memory.
Before I got lost in more of those, I unlatched the wooden gate and stepped aside.
The guy didn’t really move.
“Saúl Araya.” I reached out a hand. “I’m sorry we weren’t more prepared for you coming.”
If someone else had been here, or if he didn’t look like one of the traumatized horses we rescued, I would’ve gone on a rant about my old man and his ways. As it was, I didn’t even know if he was going to meet my handshake.
He swallowed once, twice, his Adam’s apple protruding sharply against his neck, before he clasped my hand in a more solid shake than I would’ve expected.
“I’m Cameron. Reed.” He swallowed again. “Most peoplecall me Cam, though, and it’s okay. That you weren’t ready, I mean. That’s a beautiful mare.”
After he offered his name, the next words were rushed faster and faster. A few of my cousins would’ve struggled parsing what he was saying, the ones that hadn’t been living here for longer than a few years and had arrived when they were already adults.
“That, she is.” I felt myself smiling as I rubbed her neck. Everyone said it would be easier if I just cut her mane, but I liked the way it moved with the wind too much. Some upkeep was fine, but her long mane was part of her charm as far as I was concerned. “I should’ve asked if you ride, but then… Better not, with that suitcase there.”
“It’s fine.” Cameron—Cam—did his best to smile. He had brown eyes, the color of coffee when my mother made it and she added more milk than sense. He was a head shorter than me, too, which I didn’t think was helping his anxiety, not that I could do much about it. “And I do ride. It’s been a while, though. I grew up on a ranch, but then we moved to New York, and boarding a horse there is expensive as fuck. And I never liked the idea of paying to ride a random horse who didn’t have a say in liking me or not, you know?”
I hummed. So he was the kind of guy who was standoffish until he got talking, and then he didn’t know when to stop. I’d met a few of them. They’d never worked for me, or anywhere near wild animals as far as I knew, but there was a first time for everything.
“You’re a long way from New York.”
“Yeah.” He grimaced, his hand shooting up to the back of his neck. “I needed the change.”
It was off limits, then.
I went to grab his suitcase and turn Swiftheart around to head back toward the main house. If nothing else, I needed toget the guy to drink some water after he’d been waiting for who knew how long there.
“You say you grew up on a ranch. Did you work there, too?”
Was I fishing? Sure. But my old man wasn’t here, and I needed to understand what had compelled him to hire this guy.
“I helped out?” Cam’s voice went a bit high as he fought not to stumble to keep up with me. “I mean, I left when I was fifteen.”
I was doing plenty around here when I was fifteen, but I kept it to myself.
