Page 2 of The Devil in Blue Jeans
Charly nodded and glanced down at the town nestled at the base of the mountains. There was a hardware store and a movie theater that still had the old metal cinema marquee. The shops were eclectic and quaint, and the town had clearly been renovated to keep true to its old-town American roots. The people striding down Main Street weren’t rushing to get anywhere. They were taking in the sunny, warm day, enjoying life, not letting it fly by.
From the sense of tight-knit community and friendly townsfolk every which way you looked, the place had all the things they had once thought was so different than their city life. And most importantly, real-life cowboys—just the type of man their young hearts once dreamed of. That was, before life got in the way and reality hit them that none of them were ever leaving the big city for small-town living.
Charly looked between her friends. “Let’s make a pact—if by the time we turn twenty-eight, we aren’t satisfied with life in our new cities, then we return to what we always dreamed of. We come back here and mesh our worlds together. We open a place of our own. I handle the bar.” Glancing at Aubrey, she added, “You handle the restaurant.” She met Willow’s gaze. “You do the marketing.”
Willow studied Charly for a few seconds before asking, “Why settle on twenty-eight?”
“That gives us two years to fix whatever has gone wrong in our lives before we turn thirty,” Charly explained.
Aubrey laughed softly, shaking her head. “This is a silly deal. That’s six years away. We’ll be settled by then. Don’t you think talking about this will jinx our future plans?”
Charly shrugged. “Maybe, but I’m just saying if our plans don’t work out, let’s go back to our pact. We took this trip as a last celebration before becoming adults and it all led us here. What do we have to lose?” She waved out to the town below that held so much heart. “If at twenty-eight we feel less content than now, let’s move here and start over.” Charly held out her hand. “Who’s in?”
Willow smiled wide, placing her hand on top of Charly’s. “I’m in!”
Aubrey rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why either of you are so excited about this. You do realize making this pact is like wishing that our dreams fail?”
“No, Miss Uptight,” Charly corrected. “We’re making this pact so that we can protect our own happiness. We need to always look out for each other. And we deserve the happiness that our thirteen-year-old selves dreamed up.”
Aubrey’s eyes narrowed for a moment and then she smiled. “Okay, I’m in.” She placed her hand atop Willow’s. “Here’s to having a plan B.”
Charly grinned at Willow before they all lifted their hands, and Charly shouted, “To having a backup plan!”
One
Six years later...
Jaxon Reed clicked his tongue and the colt beneath him surged forward, its hooves pounding across the meadow of endless Montana beauty that had been in his family for generations. The wind brushed past his face as he narrowed his gaze at the sun beginning to dip in the sky. As he took a deep breath, the aroma of hot dirt and sweet berries wafted through the air. He eagerly filled his lungs, feeling an unmistakable sense of freedom that always accompanied long rides across the land.
Timber Falls Ranch was known for its top-notch quarter horses that were bought and shipped all throughout North America. Over one hundred horses on the ranch were raised in an old-fashioned way, remaining outdoors all year round and living off the land. The mares and their young occupied one field, while the geldings had their own space. Separately, in different fields, were the stallions. Many of those horses went on to be winners in rodeos, endurance trail rides and working hunter competitions.
Before he set out to check on the herd late in the afternoon, he had anticipated a quiet ride, but it soon became apparent that luck was not on his side today.
Out in the west, he found a chestnut mare lying on the grass, accompanied by her fellow herd members. Without hesitation, he clucked his tongue again and the colt beneath him leaped into a gallop across one of the valleys that lay between Yellowstone and Big Sky in Montana.
As Jaxon drew nearer to the mare, worry sank deep into his gut. The mare was lying on her side, breathing heavily and perspiring profusely. He pulled gently on his reins, speaking softly to the colt he had been training for the past month, who instantly responded to his words and slowed its pace.
In one swift movement, Jaxon swung his leg over the back of the saddle and tied up the reins around its horn. Assured that the colt wouldn’t wander away, Jaxon pulled out a pair of gloves from the saddlebag before giving Casey, one of his farmhands, an urgent call.
When Casey answered, Jaxon said, “I’m sending you my location. Get the vet out here—we’ve got a mare in trouble.”
“On it,” Casey replied.
Jaxon sent his coordinates, tucked his phone away and slid his hands into the gloves before approaching the mare. “Easy, Mama,” he murmured, striding around her. She had already birthed one of her foal’s legs. Cursing, he got onto his knees behind her, steadying the foal with both feet during the next contraction before giving a strong pull.
Three contractions later, along with Jaxon’s help, the baby horse slid out easily.
“Good. Good mama,” he breathed, confirming the sweet bay filly wasn’t in distress. Then he brought the foal closer to the mare’s head and stepped away, giving them space, while the mare licked her baby.
Catching his breath, he returned to the colt, pulled off the gloves and threw them in his saddlebag for later disposal. “Well done,” he told the colt before mounting him again.
Time ticked slowly as Jaxon watched the mare bond with her baby, when he heard the rumble of the ATV’s engine before he spotted Casey driving up. The twenty-year-old had begun working on the ranch after graduating high school. Beside him sat Dr. Newman, the local vet who was well past retirement age.
After Casey cut the engine on the ATV, Dr. Newman jumped out, his deep brown eyes shining with excitement. “Your first foal since you took over the ranch.”
Jaxon nodded in understanding. The thought hadn’t been lost on him either. This was the first birth on the ranch since his father’s untimely death from a heart attack six months ago. He shifted on his feet, the chilly awareness of the loss of his father clawing at his chest. The constant reminder was always there that he was still rocked to his core that his father was gone, and Jaxon had stepped into his father’s very large boots at the ranch. “I got here just in time,” he remarked, knowing had this happened overnight the mare likely would have died.
The doctor moved closer. “You’ve got the same knack as your father. He always seemed to know when it was time to come out here and check on his ladies.”
