dappled gelding. “No offense, but if you haven’t been on a horse in three years, the others won’t be as easy to manage.”
Sawyer shot Colt a glare, which made Colt laugh.
“I said no offense!” Colt said. “Just take my advice, save yourself some trouble.”
Walker was already in the stall with the biggest gelding, a beautiful dark gray beast. Sawyer picked the gelding that Colt had pointed out, 13 hands high with a brown and cream dappled coat.
“What’s his name?” he asked.
“Pericles,” Walker said.
“The Colonel’s getting a little weird with the names these days,” Sawyer said, eyeing the horse. The horse just blinked at him, unconcerned.
Thankfully, once he picked up a brush and spent a second greeting the horse, Sawyer fell right back into the rhythm of ranch life. He brushed his horse down and then saddled him, the muscle memory of it springing back to life.
He led Pericles out, following Walker and Colt. Colt was putting tools into his saddlebag, things they’d need for working on the fence.
It took two attempts to swing his leg over, making it clear that he wasn’t as nimble as his high school days. Still, he mounted with little trouble, taking the reins.
“Ready?” Colt asked.
“Always,” Sawyer said.
Colt smirked and led the way. The area they were headed for was clear on the opposite side of the ranch, meaning that they’d have to ride on a scenic roundabout route.
Sawyer eyed Colt as they started down the broad gravel road that circled the entire property. If he didn’t know better, Sawyer would think that Colt chose this particular task just to take them on a tour of the ranch, remind them how pretty the place could be.
The sun beat down on them relentlessly, despite the early hour. As Sawyer looked out over the beautiful green pastures, skirting some of the marshier areas, he was glad for the Stetson on his head.
Pretty soon they started riding past small clusters of cattle, the herds split up by gender and type. The ride was long and quiet, except the moments when they stopped to open and close a gate here and there as they passed through different sections of the ranch.
They rode by the deserted cabins and mess hall that Sawyer’s mother had used to run her tourist business. When the dude ranch was bustling, the Romans had constructed and expanded to meet the demand.
Sawyer checked his phone, knowing he’d lose signal soon.
“Checking on your D.C. hos?” Colt asked.
Sawyer slid him a smirk. “Maybe. You feeling jealous, brother?”
“Naw, I just wish I was getting video chats like the one I overheard late last night,” Colt said.
Sawyer snickered. Busted. “Oh, you heard that, huh?”
“Some smoky-voiced chick telling you all the ways she’s gonna suck your dick when you get back? Yeah, maybe close your windows next time you want to have some private time,” Colt said.
“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” Sawyer said.
“Fuck off with that,” Colt said with a laugh.
They rode on, Sawyer’s mind filled with dirty images. No specific girl in mind, though if he were honest he’d say that he was on a bit of a blonde streak just now.
He put his phone away and adjusted in his saddle a number of times before giving up the brain-smut, since it was just serving to make him uncomfortable as all hell now.
Walker slowed to ride beside Sawyer, nodding at the abandoned buildings as they passed.
“We could get it up and running again,” he said.
Sawyer glanced at Walker. “Bring tourists in, you mean?”
“Yeah, maybe. I poked through some of the old financial records, and the ranch was never as successful as when Mom ran the dude ranch.”
“Hmm,” Sawyer said. “We’d need a lot of help with that, though. Mom was all about Southern hospitality, something you and I don’t know a thing about.”
Walker nodded, looking off into the distance. “Just an idea.”
“Not a bad one. Just… difficult.”
Colt glanced back at them.
Sawyer shot Colt a glare, which made Colt laugh.
“I said no offense!” Colt said. “Just take my advice, save yourself some trouble.”
Walker was already in the stall with the biggest gelding, a beautiful dark gray beast. Sawyer picked the gelding that Colt had pointed out, 13 hands high with a brown and cream dappled coat.
“What’s his name?” he asked.
“Pericles,” Walker said.
“The Colonel’s getting a little weird with the names these days,” Sawyer said, eyeing the horse. The horse just blinked at him, unconcerned.
Thankfully, once he picked up a brush and spent a second greeting the horse, Sawyer fell right back into the rhythm of ranch life. He brushed his horse down and then saddled him, the muscle memory of it springing back to life.
He led Pericles out, following Walker and Colt. Colt was putting tools into his saddlebag, things they’d need for working on the fence.
It took two attempts to swing his leg over, making it clear that he wasn’t as nimble as his high school days. Still, he mounted with little trouble, taking the reins.
“Ready?” Colt asked.
“Always,” Sawyer said.
Colt smirked and led the way. The area they were headed for was clear on the opposite side of the ranch, meaning that they’d have to ride on a scenic roundabout route.
Sawyer eyed Colt as they started down the broad gravel road that circled the entire property. If he didn’t know better, Sawyer would think that Colt chose this particular task just to take them on a tour of the ranch, remind them how pretty the place could be.
The sun beat down on them relentlessly, despite the early hour. As Sawyer looked out over the beautiful green pastures, skirting some of the marshier areas, he was glad for the Stetson on his head.
Pretty soon they started riding past small clusters of cattle, the herds split up by gender and type. The ride was long and quiet, except the moments when they stopped to open and close a gate here and there as they passed through different sections of the ranch.
They rode by the deserted cabins and mess hall that Sawyer’s mother had used to run her tourist business. When the dude ranch was bustling, the Romans had constructed and expanded to meet the demand.
Sawyer checked his phone, knowing he’d lose signal soon.
“Checking on your D.C. hos?” Colt asked.
Sawyer slid him a smirk. “Maybe. You feeling jealous, brother?”
“Naw, I just wish I was getting video chats like the one I overheard late last night,” Colt said.
Sawyer snickered. Busted. “Oh, you heard that, huh?”
“Some smoky-voiced chick telling you all the ways she’s gonna suck your dick when you get back? Yeah, maybe close your windows next time you want to have some private time,” Colt said.
“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” Sawyer said.
“Fuck off with that,” Colt said with a laugh.
They rode on, Sawyer’s mind filled with dirty images. No specific girl in mind, though if he were honest he’d say that he was on a bit of a blonde streak just now.
He put his phone away and adjusted in his saddle a number of times before giving up the brain-smut, since it was just serving to make him uncomfortable as all hell now.
Walker slowed to ride beside Sawyer, nodding at the abandoned buildings as they passed.
“We could get it up and running again,” he said.
Sawyer glanced at Walker. “Bring tourists in, you mean?”
“Yeah, maybe. I poked through some of the old financial records, and the ranch was never as successful as when Mom ran the dude ranch.”
“Hmm,” Sawyer said. “We’d need a lot of help with that, though. Mom was all about Southern hospitality, something you and I don’t know a thing about.”
Walker nodded, looking off into the distance. “Just an idea.”
“Not a bad one. Just… difficult.”
Colt glanced back at them.
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