Dark clouds twisted above in the sky. The cold air was thick with the promise of a heavy and chilly rain when I holstered my hammer to look up. Green Point wasn’t a stranger to early autumn rainstorms that usually brought on an early frost. Summer was officially at an end, and with the clouds promising rain, I knew it was only a matter of time before the rest of the world started to change.
The leaves on the oak trees were already changing on the very top. My breath puffed out in front of me as I stared down at the replaced roof shingles. At least the rain wouldn’t be getting in the barn any longer. The wooden beams wouldn’t be rotted out any longer either.
I sat back on my knees to take a deep breath while Rick finished stapling the last shingle down.
“Good timing,” I remarked, glancing up at the sky. “I don’t think this roof would’ve lasted very long under another downpour of rain.”
“It wouldn’t have lasted much longer,” Rick said. He sat up to look at the sky too. “I’m glad we got this finished before the rain though. Getting soaked in the rain is not on my list of things to do for you.”
“The beams should’ve been replaced this summer, so don’t complain.”
Rick’s face contorted at that. “I know, boss. I’m sorry again for what happened. I really did mean to replace them, but with how much work had to be done around here, I—”
“I know, Rick,” I said and reached across to clasp him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I know I’ve placed a lot on you to handle while Tif and I are out doing our own things. I appreciate everything that you have done here.”
The boom of thunder caught us both off guard. I got up from my knees, helping Rick stand up as well, and walked carefully to the ladder. I spotted Cheyenne riding the palomino mare, a friendly horse that seemed attached to Cheyenne more than the others, along the field in the direction of the barn. I climbed down to watch as a line of horses followed behind her without being roped or linked together.
I shook my head in amazement as Cheyenne rode up with a large grin. My heart skipped hard in my chest when I looked up at her with a cowboy hat perched on her dark hair to keep her head dry against the now drizzle of rain. I had been so close the other day to finally kissing her, but Cheyenne had made a point to keep herself at a cautious distance since then. That feeling overwhelmed me again looking up the curve of her toned leg in tight jeans.
“Impressive,” I said. “I think I’ll call you the horse whisperer from now on.”
Cheyenne laughed lightly as I opened the pasture gate to let the horses in. I shut the gate behind the last horse before going to help Rick put up the ladder. He came from inside the barn, glancing at the horses with a surprised frown.
“I know,” I said once he reached where I stood at the pasture gate. “It’s impressive how she can get those horses to follow her around without any problems.”
“She’s got a talent,” Rick agreed, glancing up at the sky. “Do you want to try and get to the fences or wait?”
I glanced up at the sky with a sigh. The weather was not on my side since the plumbing issues at the Iron Stallion. If I had to wait around for Marcus to call me back with a time to look into the problem, then I didn’t want to sit idle. There were repairs that Rick needed help with around the ranch—including a few fences around the property line that we would need the four-wheelers to access.
“Gas the four-wheelers up,” I told him. “I’m going to go up to the house to check messages and make sure Tiffany is okay.”
“Right. I’ll get straight to it.”
I started in the direction of the house when Cheyenne’s shrill scream cut through the silence. Panic shot through me when I ran into the barn to find Cheyenne’s hands covering her face. The horses were dancing around madly in the barn, and I barely managed to squish myself up against a barn stall to avoid being trampled over. I looked behind to see that Rick was opening the pasture gate quickly to let the horses stream back into the corral before rushing over to Cheyenne.
Her face was pale white and frightened when she looked at me through the gaps in her fingers.
“In there,” she cried, pointing to the ground. “There’s so many of them, Colt.”
I pushed the barn stall open to find a black mass scurrying along the barn floor. Out of reflex, I stomped on the one black widow that crawled in my direction. I stomped on all the ones that I could find on the floor.
“What the hell?”
I looked up to see Cheyenne peeking her head through the barn stall. Her frightened eyes met mine.
“I hate black widows,” she said. “I hate spiders, period. What were they doing in the stalls?”
“I don’t know.”
I crouched down, pushing my hat up so I could inspect the squished mass along the floor. I counted thirty of them with a frown. Thirty black widows in one barn stall seemed overkill. It was too late the season also for brand-new spiders to be popping up.
“What’s going on?” Rick asked worriedly. “The horses were running out of here in a sheer panic. Is there an animal in here or—”
“Black widows,” I replied, looking up at him with a frown. “Thirty of them in this stall. That’s a bit out of the ordinary, right?”
A frown tugged at Rick’s lips as he came into the barn stall to examine the squished spiders too.
“At this time of the year, it is,” he said. “I’d expect the spring we’d see the spiders about here, but not in one stall in early autumn.”