Her Four Cowboys

I opened my eyes quickly when I heard the truck starting to pull up the road and immediately pulled away from the fence, standing up completely straight as if one pole had been stuck across my shoulders and another pole had been stuck down my back. I didn’t think I’d ever been so stiff as I looked over at the truck, waiting for Lucy to climb down out of it.

As it had been since I’d first seen her at Spurs that night, her beauty made me feel like the earth was quaking underneath me. The black knit hat hung down on her head, covering her forehead and ears, and seemed to bring attention to the stunning, emerald-green orbs that shone out of her face and, despite her smile, seemed to cut into me. Her thick, lovely hair, which shone the same pale gold as the winter sun, hung down over her shoulder in her usual ponytail, and I couldn’t help following the path that it made down her beautiful body, the strands clinging to the flannel where it covered her luscious, generous curves.

I managed to clear my throat before she got close enough to me to hear the way the breath caught in the back of my mouth. I was hoping that she hadn’t noticed, but there were no guarantees with the way that that arch little smile clung to her face. I managed to fix a slightly cold smile to my face—the sort of face that I gave to almost everyone I worked with.

“Hi, Austin,” she said, coming closer to me and setting down her medical bag. I couldn’t tell whether she was about to reach out and hug me… and I wasn’t sure how I would react if she did hug me.

She didn’t, though, and I allowed my posture to relax just a little bit as I looked down at the bag. “Hey, Lucy.”

“How are the girls doing?”

“They seem to be doing a little better every day,” I said, unwilling to bring up the success of the foam supports that she’d brought for them to use. Reaching down, I took hold of her bag, carrying it over to the barn as I felt the air between us thicken. As if against my will, my mind turned to the fantasy that I’d given into in the shower the other day, and I felt the tension between us thickening like the gravy that still sat in the fridge, leftover from Christmas Eve.

“How’s the rest of your week been?” Lucy asked casually, looking over at me with friendly interest as we approached the barn. “Have you managed to get any time off at all?”

“A little,” I said, “but not much. Normally, my brothers and I alternate taking a few days off at a time, but since Sage and Rosie started getting sick, I haven’t wanted to go too far away. What about you? Have you managed to get any days off?”

She shrugged. “A couple here and there, but even when I’ve been off, I’ve been trying to do a little organization around the house. All my stuff is still in boxes, and it’s been making my mom crazy.”

I laughed a little bit. And as we entered the barn, Lucy gave a gusty sigh as the warm air hit her, which seemed to bring all my blood to a very specific place on my body, so I had to turn away in order to get a grip on myself. She peeled off the outer layers of her clothing, dropping her coat over the little pole and unwrapping her scarf from around that delicate, beautiful neck. I took one more peek at her but watching her stretch in the warm air was still a little too much for me.

“It’s those two stalls, right?”

I turned around to see her indicating the two stalls at the back of the barn where we were keeping Sage and Rosie with her chin, and I nodded. “Yep. Do you need anything from your bag?”

My voice sounded strangely thin and throaty to me, and I cursed myself internally for sounding so idiotic.

“If you could just bring the bag itself, then I can let you know as I need it,” she said with a smile as she carefully opened Sage’s stall, easing herself inside and beginning to speak in the soft, gentle tones that one usually used when speaking to injured and sick animals. “Hey, beautiful girl,” she said, fixing her with a smile as she set a hand on the horse’s broad, glossy neck. “Let’s see how your ankles are doing.” She knelt down and carefully began maneuvering Sage’s joints, testing out how flexible the ligaments were, and how much tension they’d regained.

“Have you been giving them both the anti-inflammatory?” she asked, not looking back at me.

“Twice a day with their feed, just like you ordered,” I answered, doing my best to keep the sarcasm and attitude out of my tone.