The Private Stable [Iron Spur Ranch 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 3

  “Afternoon, ma’am.” Ethan took off his Stetson like a regular gentleman. Wyatt knew his friend came from an old-fashioned family where respecting a woman was the highest order. It was the reason he had trouble mixing domination and pleasure, never partaking in the women who’d visit the ranch for an erotic escape.

  “Thank you,” she said. The woman clutched her handbag like a lifeline. Were they that intimidating?

  “Ethan, this is Ms. Rachel Price. She’s applying to be a handler, so give her a quick rundown of how things work around here and see what she’s made of. I need to head out to the east field before it gets too late.”

  “I can do that,” he said.

  Wyatt reached out and gave Rachel’s arm a slight squeeze. “You’re in good hands. I’ll meet up with you as soon as I’m back.”

  Chapter Three

  Oh my God. What have I gotten myself into? Rachel couldn’t think about what she’d done. The alternative was far worse. By now Jason would be getting home, wondering where his dinner was. He’d be absolutely furious that she wasn’t in the apartment like she was supposed to be. Just picturing his hard-set features and building rage made her blood run cold. But she was here. Safe.

  Now Rachel needed to fake her way into a job she had no qualifications for. She never wanted to return to the city where there was a chance to run into Jason. It was amazing how one man could hold her life emotionally captive for so many years. She felt like a prisoner of war finally seeing the light…and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with so much freedom. The hardest part had been that initial leap, having faith in herself that she could survive on her own.

  “So…have you worked at any area ranches?” asked Ethan. Unlike Wyatt’s tousled brown hair and green eyes, he had shorter, dirty-blond hair and eyes as dark as onyx. He had thick lips and raw sex appeal.

  When he spoke, she barely peeked up at the cowboy, so accustomed to averting her eyes from good-looking men. Jason would always make her pay, even if she accidentally glanced at a stranger.

  From what she saw, the man looked as if he were built out of steel, all hard muscle and strength. His jeans were worn through at the knees, his leather cowboy boots well used. She noted that he had big feet and couldn’t help but wonder if the old adage was true.

  “No. I’m not from around here,” she answered honestly. How long would she be able to maintain a conversation without uttering lie after lie? She didn’t like the idea of deceiving other people, but she considered this a fight for survival. It was either tell a few white lies or sleep on the country dirt roads.

  “Well, I suppose most ranches work in a similar fashion. How about you unsaddle the first three horses? They just got in from a roundup and I don’t want to put them away wet. When you’re done I’ll send them into the holding corral for a spell.”

  Unsaddle? Corral? Rachel swallowed hard and slipped into the first stall as Ethan walked to the other end of the barn. Don’t leave me alone. The horse was huge and intimidating. She could envision it pinning her to the wooden slats, making a pancake of her. What if it stepped on her toes? It must weigh more than a ton. She kept as far back from it as possible, cooing to the beast to prove she was no threat. Its breathing was rhythmic, soothing. She dared to move closer to the horse’s head, running her hand over its mane to remove stray hairs from its eyes. It was an intelligent-looking animal, majestic and powerful.

  Time seemed to stand still as she stood there alone in the stall, getting to know the horse with the thoughtful eyes. Its nose was like butter-soft leather. It didn’t flinch away from her touch but allowed her to explore at her leisure. Maybe the job wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Then she heard the chink of spurs, forcing her to crash back into reality. She began to fiddle with the leather straps coming off the saddle, her fingers moving so fast she wasn’t sure what was what. Her heart raced, just as it always did before Jason came home. The footsteps grew closer. She should have all three horses unsaddled by now. Her charade was up. It was a battle to keep her emotions in check when tears threatened to escape at any moment. How much stress could one woman take? How much fear?

  Ethan leaned against the side of the stall, one boot bent up. Was that a piece of straw between his lips? “Having troubles?” he asked. He moved slowly and talked with the same smoothness. She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t furious with her or at least irritated.

  “A little.”

  He smirked and shoved off the wooden post. Ethan entered the confined space in the stall with her. His scent immediately enveloped her, a subtle, musky cologne. It was the essence of masculinity. She tried to shuffle over, but the hay trough was in her way. He was so much taller than she was, making her feel both short and fat.

  “Give me your hand,” he said. She did as ordered, lifting her hand up by the wrist. He guided her to the stirrup, assisting her in flipping the leather over the top of the saddle. His hand was huge and work roughened. She couldn’t help but entertain inappropriate fantasies. Then she recalled that it wasn’t wrong for her to have healthy, sexual thoughts. She was single, free, not burdened to stifle her sexuality any longer. “First you have to loosen the tether strap. Here.” He moved her hand like she was a child, instructing her step by step. She liked it. He didn’t rush or sound impatient. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, she’d say his movements were almost sensual. But that was impossible. Men and Rachel did not mix, not with her extra fifty pounds and complete lack of confidence.

  “Good girl,” he said once the straps were unfastened. “Then we put the saddle on the wooden horse in the tack room.” He reached up and hefted the solid Western saddle off the back of the horse. Was she expected to be able to lug those heavy things to the tack room every day? But if she let him do everything for her, she’d never get the job.

  “I should take that,” she said, following after him.

  “I ain’t letting a slight thing like you carry this.” He disappeared into a dim room with sliding wooden doors.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly slight. And Wyatt won’t give me this job if I don’t pull my own load.”

  After her eyes adjusted to the minimal lighting in the tack room, the heavy hay dust made her sneeze. She looked around for him, not noticing he stood right beside her. Rachel jumped and instinctively began to walk backward, away from Ethan. It was his eyes. He stared at her with such intensity that her breath caught. Only she wasn’t afraid of him.

  “We’ve never had a woman handler on the ranch. It’s hard work. Too hard for you.”

  She shook her head. “You’re wrong. I can do anything I set my mind to.” She’d just left a dead relationship after years of abuse. She should get a medal for courage and another for all her pain and suffering. There was no way she’d lose this opportunity because she was a woman. She wasn’t tiny and could likely do a lot more manual labor than he expected.

  “Okay then, darlin’. You handle the next horse. I’ll just watch.”

  Rachel agreed, determined to prove she could be an asset after a little guidance. She walked back to the main aisle and entered the second stall. This time the sun was lower in the sky, and dusk wasn’t far off. Unlike the city, there would be no endless sea of streetlights creating an artificial glow. A mental clock continually counted down. She didn’t want to be sent away in the darkness of night.

  Rachel flipped over the stirrup of the second saddle the way she’d been shown. This horse was black and more spirited than the last. She was certain her luck was about to run out and the horse would try to kick or bite. Her entire body was stiff from nerves as she fought with the intricate knot in the tether strap. Why did her fingers have to shake so much?

  After standing on the sidelines quietly the entire time, Ethan finally broke out in laughter. She was shocked, turning to face him.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Sorry, darlin’, I shouldn’t laugh at you.” He stepped in, pressing his body next to hers, and ran hi
s hand over the horse’s eyes while whispering something in its ear. The horse calmed almost instantaneously. “There. He’ll behave for you now.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him how he should treat a lady.”

  She bit her lower lip, flattered beyond measure. But allowing herself to fall for sweet words would only lead to heartbreak—or another doomed relationship. She’d loved Jason once upon a time. Unlike fairy tales, the hero’s charm vanished at midnight, too, never to be found again.

  After she managed to get the saddle unfastened, Ethan reached for it. She stopped him, setting her palm over his bicep, her fingers lingering longer than necessary. “Don’t. I have to do this, remember?”

  He shrugged. “Okay, baby girl. Go for it.” Ethan stepped back and crossed his heavily muscled arms over his chest.

  She reached up on her tiptoes, barely able to grab the base of the saddle with both hands. The horse was huge, making the task more difficult than necessary. Plucking it off effortlessly like Ethan had was impossible. Instead, she tugged it to the side, letting it slide down to her, saddle blanket and all. When it was time for her to grab the weight of it, she was not prepared for such a load. Just when she expected to drop it, her cowboy hero saved the day again.

  “Thank you,” she said, embarrassed that she’d failed to prove herself.

  “Like I said, I won’t let a slight thing like you carry a saddle.” He winked.

  Rachel was growing more comfortable around Ethan already, her inner voice telling her he wasn’t a theat. “Have you never seen a fashion magazine way out here? Those women are slight, not me.”

  She tagged after him, back in the dark, dusty room where the saddles were kept. With minimal light from the main bay doors filtering in, shadows dominated the far corners. “I know a real woman when I see one,” said Ethan, his voice barely above a whisper. He pinned her against the wall after setting down the saddle, invading her personal space without apology. “A man needs someplace soft to put his hands.”

  She couldn’t speak, falling under some sort of spell.

  He stretched out an arm next to her head and leaned forward. Ethan was so close that the scruff on his face tickled her jaw as he took a deep breath at her neckline. “You smell like a woman, too, Rachel. Nice and sweet.”

  What was happening? There was no way he was attracted to her. He must be the ranch playboy, ready to fuck anything that walked. She may be deprived, not knowing love or sex for years, but she wasn’t the type to jump into bed with any man. Jason had been her first and only. The thought of being intimate with someone new sent a shiver of trepidation through her body. She wouldn’t be able to take her clothes off in front of a stranger, especially one built like a god. It was safer for her to look from afar and not get entangled in something she’d undoubtedly regret.

  “What happened to your face?” He reached out and ran his fingertip along the path of small cuts on one cheek. They were minor wounds from the glass shards, barely noticeable.

  “My cat. There’s one more horse to be tended, right?” She needed to change the subject in a hurry. Discussing Jason’s rages was not how she planned to continue her day. In fact, she wanted to forget them entirely.

  His eyes seemed to clear, and he backed away. She instantly felt the loss, craving his attention, but also knowing this was for the best. “I think you’ve been saved by the bell,” he said.

  She was so captivated by their private bubble of space she didn’t even notice the plodding of horseshoes across the concrete interior of the barn until Ethan spoke. If it was Wyatt, she’d accomplished absolutely nothing but proving she was incompetent. Not to mention rejecting one of the crew. Her final result wasn’t looking good so far.

  As Ethan started to walk out of the tack room, she grabbed his shirt in a last-ditch attempt to save her ass. “Please don’t tell him I suck at this job,” she whispered. “I’m a fast learner, I promise.”

  “It’ll be our little secret.”

  Our little secret? There had been an erotic quality to his already deep voice when he said those three words. They were branded on her memory, sparking her imagination into overdrive. But she had to be strong, not become a prisoner to her emotions and desires.

  * * * *

  “What’s she doing here?” asked Ethan once alone with Wyatt in the corral. The sun had all but set, the moon watching them from above.

  “You sound like you’re accusing me of something. The girl applied for a job. Nothing unusual about that.”

  Ethan frowned. “There is when she looks like that. How the fuck are we supposed to get a lick of work done with her in plain sight?”

  Wyatt pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and lit up as he chuckled. “You want me to fire her?”

  “Did you even hire her?” asked Ethan.

  “We can use more help. There’s no doubt about that.”

  He wanted to tell Wyatt that the Rachel girl would be more work than she was worth. Not only would Ethan have to do his workload as well as hers, but she’d be a constant distraction. He hadn’t seen such tempting curves in his life. Ms. Price was a respectable woman, dressed prim and proper in a pair of dark pants and a white blouse buttoned up to her neck. It was his duty as a decent man to value such a woman, not soil her. But the clothes couldn’t disguise those tits or the killer outline of her hips. She was poison on a working ranch, but he also didn’t want to see her leave. He supposed he had a death wish.

  “How much help can she be? I won’t have her hauling hay or mucking out. That’s what we have the college students for.”

  He began to strip Wyatt’s horse as they spoke, setting the saddle on the fence rail and swatting the animal’s rump to send it on its way.

  “She got a drive here from the bus terminal. There ain’t enough daylight to find the trailers, never mind get to town. What would you have me do, Ethan?”

  “Fine. Let her bunk with us for the night, but come tomorrow we have to think with level heads. We both owe Damien. A burden isn’t something you drop on a friend.”

  Wyatt took one last drag of his cigarette as he nodded his head in agreement. He crushed the butt under his boot. “Looks like one of us will be taking the floor.”

  “Let me guess who?” he muttered under his breath. After working all day, Ethan always looked forward to collapsing on his worn mattress and getting a good night’s sleep. It didn’t appear that would be happening tonight for more than one reason.

  They split up. Ethan returned to the barn to find Rachel talking to one of the horses. She was something else. As soon as he came up the center of the barn, she froze, watching him step for step. “Not sure if they’ll be hiring you on full time, but you’re welcome to stay the night until things can get sorted out.”

  “Thank you.” She fiddled with the button on the cuff of her blouse. Just watching him seemed to make her nervous. Was he that threatening? Ethan wasn’t a small man, and all the Iron Spur Ranch men had a reputation, but she wouldn’t know that if she came straight from the city. He finally chalked up her shyness to someone anxious about getting a job. If Wyatt or Damien decided to hire her, maybe she’d come out of her shell. But even if she did, it wouldn’t benefit him. Once the other hired hands filled her in on his history, she’d join the ranks of those who kept their distance.

  “You’ll be bunking with me and Wyatt.” Then he added, “I’ll be sleeping on the floor, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll take the floor. I’m the one who came all the way out here with no way to get back home.” She took a staggered breath. “I never should have come. It’s not fair to any of you.”

  “I’m sure there’re jobs you can handle around here, ones that don’t require heavy lifting.” He wasn’t sure how qualified Rachel was at all, but he never voiced his concern to Wyatt. Not yet. The way she looked at those leather straps made him think she’d never seen a saddle in her life, never mind a horse. Why come all t
he way out to the country to masquerade as an experienced handler? The townsfolk often flocked to the city when times got tough working the land. Surely she could have secured employment where she was from.

  Ethan had seen too many cowgirls to count saddle and unsaddle a horse. Many of them were half Rachel’s size. But there was something delicate about their guest, a fragility he felt compelled to protect.

  She opened her mouth to speak but stopped before a sound could escape. Ethan picked up a pile of rope and began to coil it around his hand and elbow. He used the opportunity to assess the beauty, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. She had rich brown hair with a slight wave and eyes as green as emeralds. What caught his attention when he first saw her was her figure. She was all woman, with an hourglass figure capable of making grown men beg. He’d immediately undressed her with his eyes, trying to envision what she’d look like in just her bra and panties or nothing at all. Despite the sweet innocence she emanated, he was only a man.

  Working day in and day out with gruff cowboys made the presence of a beautiful woman something to celebrate. He was a lonely man, only able to call Wyatt and the horses his friends. During the long nights in his bunk, it was impossible not to close his eyes and imagine the love of a good woman. The same kind his parents shared.

  Ethan was also pent up something fierce. If only Rachel knew the things that went on in the supposedly unused barn at the far end of the property. She’d have hightailed it back to the city before he could bat a lash. It was just another element of the ranch he didn’t want her exposed to. “So…the two of you bunk alone together? I thought there were a lot of staff members living on the ranch.”

  “All the foremen get their own trailer. Wyatt’s a good friend, so he lets me share his place.”