she’d struck a nerve for sure. Raúl angled his body away from hers, so she couldn’t see his face. “There’s nothing up about it. Empty. We don’t even have enough horses to fill this one.”
“Then why have it? And why is it locked?”
He whirled on her, face drawn with fear. “How do you know it’s locked?”
Damn ! She’d stepped right into that. Quickly, Maple dodged. “J.B. said it was off-limits, I just assumed that meant he kept it locked up.”
It was clear Raúl didn’t believe her, but they were at an impasse. He couldn’t admit to knowing any more about the stable without opening himself to a barrage of questions. She couldn’t admit to sneaking out to try and discover on her own what was so taboo on the ranch that it required this level of lockdown.
“Well,” he said slowly, everything about him wary, “that was a good guess. J.B. has things he likes to keep private, Maple. That’s his business.”
“Okay, sure.” She wasn’t going to get any more out of him tonight, it was obvious. Frustration rolled through her, both sexual and irritated, and she was forced to shut her eyes for a moment, pushing it back in. Burying it behind the wall built inside.
Raúl interrupted her thoughts with one more thing. “J.B. is very protective of his business, Maple. Don’t fuck with him.” There was no hint, no subtlety to this warning. Don’t fuck with him. Raúl sounded both worried for her and protective of J.B., and it added another layer to the mystery. What was their relationship?
This is why you need to stop asking questions. She knew it, too. She was poking her finger in a hole without knowing what was inside.
They worked without speaking for a little while, but Raúl wasn’t the type to tolerate silence for long. “Are you sweet on J.B.?” There was no avoiding the guarded jealousy in his voice, but Maple was more concerned with the question and what Raúl was implying.
“No,” she lied. “He’s my boss. He’s probably too old for me. I probably won’t even see him much.”
“Yeah, probably,” Raúl visibly relaxed as he said this. “And he is too old for you. Thirty-five. Me, on the other hand, I’m a youthful twenty-four, just the right age for you.” Another wink that Maple pretended not to see. Her mind was weaving all the new threads of J.B. information together.
They finished out Bonnie’s stall. Maple led the old horse back in. Bonnie was her favorite, a kindred soul. She ran her hands up and down Bonnie’s mottled neck, allowing the mare to nuzzle her ear. After giving Bonnie some apples, Maple prepared for her final challenge. Bane.
The black horse was stomping in his stall, hooves thundering off the concrete. Raúl’s shoulders were tense, his hands on a lasso.
“You aren’t serious,” Maple started, eyebrows pressed together. “You can’t lasso that horse! He’ll carry you through the desert and back!”
Raúl nodded. “Sure. That’s why I tie it off. Lasso, tie off, lasso another, and use a pulley to kind of force him out, clean the stall quick, let him back in.”
“You don’t take him out? Let him run around?”
Raúl gave her a condescending smile and, despite being grateful for his help and company, Maple kind of wanted to slap him. “Look, Bane’s a beast. He’s evil and J.B. doesn’t want him out. His stables, his rules. They’re there for a reason, Maple. Bane’s killed someone.”
Her step faltered. “Bane’s killed someone and they didn’t put him down? How is that even allowed?” Maple was a little afraid of showing her inexperience in horse matters, but the situation seemed ludicrous to her. Even if they didn’t punish the horse (and she didn’t think they should), why would J.B. keep him?
Raúl shrugged before looping the lasso around Bane’s neck. Immediately the horse began to thrash, and Raúl struggled to tether the rope.
“Maple,
“Then why have it? And why is it locked?”
He whirled on her, face drawn with fear. “How do you know it’s locked?”
Damn ! She’d stepped right into that. Quickly, Maple dodged. “J.B. said it was off-limits, I just assumed that meant he kept it locked up.”
It was clear Raúl didn’t believe her, but they were at an impasse. He couldn’t admit to knowing any more about the stable without opening himself to a barrage of questions. She couldn’t admit to sneaking out to try and discover on her own what was so taboo on the ranch that it required this level of lockdown.
“Well,” he said slowly, everything about him wary, “that was a good guess. J.B. has things he likes to keep private, Maple. That’s his business.”
“Okay, sure.” She wasn’t going to get any more out of him tonight, it was obvious. Frustration rolled through her, both sexual and irritated, and she was forced to shut her eyes for a moment, pushing it back in. Burying it behind the wall built inside.
Raúl interrupted her thoughts with one more thing. “J.B. is very protective of his business, Maple. Don’t fuck with him.” There was no hint, no subtlety to this warning. Don’t fuck with him. Raúl sounded both worried for her and protective of J.B., and it added another layer to the mystery. What was their relationship?
This is why you need to stop asking questions. She knew it, too. She was poking her finger in a hole without knowing what was inside.
They worked without speaking for a little while, but Raúl wasn’t the type to tolerate silence for long. “Are you sweet on J.B.?” There was no avoiding the guarded jealousy in his voice, but Maple was more concerned with the question and what Raúl was implying.
“No,” she lied. “He’s my boss. He’s probably too old for me. I probably won’t even see him much.”
“Yeah, probably,” Raúl visibly relaxed as he said this. “And he is too old for you. Thirty-five. Me, on the other hand, I’m a youthful twenty-four, just the right age for you.” Another wink that Maple pretended not to see. Her mind was weaving all the new threads of J.B. information together.
They finished out Bonnie’s stall. Maple led the old horse back in. Bonnie was her favorite, a kindred soul. She ran her hands up and down Bonnie’s mottled neck, allowing the mare to nuzzle her ear. After giving Bonnie some apples, Maple prepared for her final challenge. Bane.
The black horse was stomping in his stall, hooves thundering off the concrete. Raúl’s shoulders were tense, his hands on a lasso.
“You aren’t serious,” Maple started, eyebrows pressed together. “You can’t lasso that horse! He’ll carry you through the desert and back!”
Raúl nodded. “Sure. That’s why I tie it off. Lasso, tie off, lasso another, and use a pulley to kind of force him out, clean the stall quick, let him back in.”
“You don’t take him out? Let him run around?”
Raúl gave her a condescending smile and, despite being grateful for his help and company, Maple kind of wanted to slap him. “Look, Bane’s a beast. He’s evil and J.B. doesn’t want him out. His stables, his rules. They’re there for a reason, Maple. Bane’s killed someone.”
Her step faltered. “Bane’s killed someone and they didn’t put him down? How is that even allowed?” Maple was a little afraid of showing her inexperience in horse matters, but the situation seemed ludicrous to her. Even if they didn’t punish the horse (and she didn’t think they should), why would J.B. keep him?
Raúl shrugged before looping the lasso around Bane’s neck. Immediately the horse began to thrash, and Raúl struggled to tether the rope.
“Maple,
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