His Hart's Command (Nothing Special 6)

Hart grabbed him around his waist and lifted him off his feet, spinning him and laughing like a wild man.

“Put me down, you bloody fool. I’m way too big for you to do that.” Free laughed, secretly loving it. He linked his arms around the back of Hart’s neck and leaned in for a smoother kiss. “So, you go off and play, while I get this done.”

“I love you. You’re too good to me.” Hart pecked his forehead then down the bridge of his nose. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me, baby.”

“You deserve it.”

“You sure you don’t want to enjoy, too? Go riding or pet the animals.” Hart vibrated, holding him tightly in his arms.

“No, really. This looks lovely. It all really does, but I think I’ll let you enjoy it.”

“Glad you boys could make it. You gonna set out there in my yard necking all day, or you gonna come inside and introduce yourself? I know your poppa taught you better than that,” Walker called down from the porch, his amused eyes on Hart. His son stood tall behind him with his hands shoved into the pockets of his Wranglers. His ever-present cautious frown in place.

“Yes, sir. I sure am.” Hart let Free go, dropping their arms and linking one of their hands. He walked them up the steps, his broad smile still in place. Hart didn’t let go of him until he got to Walker. He stuck his hand out and the man shifted his cane to other side “Afternoon. I’m Ivan Hart. I guess you already know my partner. Len Freeman. I was just saying to him that I had no clue you guys were out here.”

“Ain’t been long.” Bull stepped forward, his hand outstretched. Hart took it and both men pumped their huge fists a couple times before releasing. “Took a while to get set up. Name’s Dominic Walker.”

“The fifth,” Walker added proudly, staring up at his boy.

Dominic smiled fondly at his father, then looked back at Hart, “You can call me Bull.”

It was the first time Free had heard Bull speak up close. It was a chillingly low baritone that could truly frighten a man if he snuck up on him.

“Ivan. Good to know ya, Bull.” Hart nodded. “So, my boyfriend said you been having some issues out here.”

“Yeah. Nothing major. Just bored kids with nothing else to do. They’ve busted up a few pumpkins, turned over plants, broke some windows in the bunkhouse. Luckily, no one stays in them yet. I just don’t want ‘em to get bored with that and start messing with the animals, ya know?”

“Hell yeah. I get you, man.” Hart put his arm around Free’s shoulders, “Well, you’ve got the best men for the job. We’ll catch these guys in no time. And give ‘em a good ole’ fashioned Texas warning.” Hart laughed, Walker quickly joining in.

“I knew I was gon’ like you,” Bull said, a faint smile cracking his hard Texan façade.

“Where are our manners, Bull? ’Help ‘em get some their stuff inside and settled. Then we’ll have some lunch and talk more.”

“That sounds real good.” Hart beamed, strolling up to the porch.

Hart

Hart gripped the reins tighter and clenched his thighs as Smoky, his dark bay Tennessee Walker crested the hill, galloping behind Bull’s white and brown Paint horse. He was back in the saddle again. He wanted to holler out yee-haw but he refrained. He wasn’t sure he’d get the hang of it so quickly, but the moment he started saddling the quiet animal, it had all come back to him.

After they’d put their things away and helped Free get his crates unpacked in a dining room Bull had cleared out for him, they talked about Free’s plan. They’d eaten a nice lunch of roast beef sandwiches, homemade fries and sweet tea, prepared by their part-time cook. After that, Hart was buzzing to get back outdoors. Bull and Walker had taken them on a full tour of the land in an ATV, and he could’ve sworn he was back in the Lone Star State. Walker absolutely preened any time Hart praised him on his property or on Bull’s management ideas. They’d looped back around to the house and dropped Free off for him to get started on his task, and Hart went and had fun.

And boy, was he ever having fun. His hips and thighs ached but he didn’t care. He was on a horse again. Nothing was like riding his big boy, Ranger, back home, but this was darn close. Bull let his staff run the day-to-day business of the store and do tours for the public, while he oversaw the farming and ranching—which suited Hart perfectly, because that was where he wanted to be.

He dismounted his regal animal and held the reins loosely, walking his horse into the stables with Bull, to get them brushed down and into their stalls for the evening. Doing ranch chores had made him nostalgic as hell. So much so that he’d sent a couple of pics back home. The sun had set and most of the workers had gone for the day. It was quiet except for the neighs or squawks from the animals. The air was crisper and clearer this far away from the city, and Hart breathed deeply.