Her Four Cowboys

“Good.” After a few more minutes of quiet from Lucy and a few neighs of protest from Sage, Lucy reached for an apple and fed it to her, patting her on the top of the head with a quiet “Good girl,” before exiting the stall.

“Sage is looking great,” she said. “We’ll talk more when I finish with Rosie.”

What followed was much of the same; she entered the stall slowly, ensuring she didn’t take the mare by surprise, and began her thorough examination. I did my best to stay calm and not let my frustrated curiosity break through, but it felt like forever before she stood up to talk to me once more.

“They’re both looking great,” she said, smiling at me as she came to the stall door. “See, I especially like the foam supports with horses of this age because of the shifting collagen in their joints, so maintaining stability is so critical.” Her grin turned wicked. “Did I make you a believer?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, okay. I believe.” I couldn’t help the grin that snuck through. “Do they need anything else right now?”

“If the inflammation hadn’t reduced as much as it has, I would’ve administered a steroid injection to help reduce it further, but it can be pretty painful, and I don’t want to give it to them unnecessarily, so I say let’s hold off on that for another week. If the inflammation gets worse again, then we can revisit it. In the meantime, just keep giving them the medication I prescribed and keep them on the supports.”

“Okay. And is there—”

I didn’t have the chance to finish my question before a loud bang went echoing through the field and the barn making the both of us jump. If I hadn’t known any better, my automatic assumption would’ve been that someone had set off a shotgun nearby, but I recognized the sound of the old tractor that Andy had been trying to repair the week before.

As much as I’d been relatively used to the sound, it was clear that Lucy wasn’t, and unfortunately Rosie’s usual tempestuous nature had been exacerbated by her discomfort. She neighed loudly as she began to rear, standing up on her back legs as she bellowed in shock.

“LUCY!” I yelled, and before I had the chance to think, I reached forward and wrapped my hands around her waist, pulling her backward and out of the stall before Rosie’s heavy hooves came down on her head, slamming the stall door closed before anything else could happen.

Lucy gave a shaky breath as she turned around, staying within the circle of my arms as she turned to face me. Her delicate hands settled onto my arms, and I breathed deeply as I settled more comfortably into my pose of holding her close.

She felt so right in my arms. I didn’t know how I’d never held her before, with my hands settling into the sweet, lush curves of her waist. All the while, she was looking up at me, the golden strands of hair falling lightly over her forehead the only things that interrupted the connection her gaze made with my face as they skated their way down from my eyes to my mouth.

“I should check Rosie,” she said, her voice impressively steady as she lowered my hands from her waist with a last, lingering caress. She turned away from me, her hands raised as she began to click soothingly at Rosie, allowing the horse to realize that she meant her no harm and that it was safe to come to her.

For the first time in my life, I couldn’t think about my horse’s safety at all. All I could think of was the way she’d felt in my arms, and the way that I’d come so close to kissing her.

15

ANDY

Just about every year, I wondered whether I’d ever seen Spurs looking this good. It was quite possibly the only time of year that I’d ever seen the floor of the bar without a single beer stain, and the group that normally frequented the place looking just as polished.

The whole place was festooned with black, gold, and silver decor, from balloons to streamers, and there were small party poppers dispersed across the bar for people to grab when the opportunity came. Molly was wearing a pair of fitted black pants tucked into her tall boots, and a top made of some silky, shimmery material that draped over her, making her tall frame look even more elegant than usual.

“Happy New Year, A-Team,” she said as she approached the table that my brothers and I were all sitting at, setting down the pitcher of beer and frosted glasses that we’d ordered. “Any resolutions for you guys this year?”

We looked around at each other, Aaron reaching for the pitcher and starting to pour out the drinks for each of us.