Texas Big Man

To my surprise, she’s more than a fast learner. She’s entirely capable, and once I tell her what we’re doing she barely needs any instruction. We work for a while, and the sun climbs until we’re both sweating. I stop to get us both water, and she takes the cold water bottle gratefully.

“I never should have doubted you,” I say.

Melena tilts her head. “You doubted me? What do you mean?”

I make a face, not really wanting to say it, but feeling compelled to. “I didn’t really think a city girl like you would be much help. But you’re doing fucking fine right now.”

She laughs. “Yeah, my dad builds lots of stuff. I’ve had a hammer in my hand way before it was probably safe for me to have one.”

“Is that why Trevor bought this place?” I ask. He never specified, and I never pressed. His business plans were solid, and that’s all I cared about when I signed the papers—not his motivation. But now that Melena’s here, I’m finding that I’m curious for a little more insight.

She moves, sitting on the ground and taking another drink. “Honestly, I have no idea. He says that it’s always been his dream to own a ranch, but if that’s true, he never talked about it with me.”

“People have private dreams.”

Her face shutters for a moment. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Do you think he’s dedicated to the project?”

She nods. “Yeah. He may not seem like it, but Trevor is a freight train when he wants something. He won’t stop until he makes this place what he’s envisioning.” Looking around, she grimaces. “I just wish that he had a little more to work with.”

I laugh at that, a big booming laugh that takes her by surprise, and she smiles. “I’ve seen the plans,” I say. “It will be beautiful when it’s finished.”

“So you think it’s a good idea?”

I nod. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

That seems to make her feel better. I resist asking her why she’s here. Because there’s clearly more to it than I thought. But I’m not sure she would tell me. There’s a tenuous peace between us, but I’m not sure she’s moved on from yesterday and my declaration toward her. Or the effect seeing me in the shower had on her.

“Want a tour?” I’m not sure where the words come from, but I can’t take them back now.

“Of what?”

“The property,” I say. “This is your home for a while, you should know what you’re getting into. I can give you a better idea of what Trevor’s planned out.”

She nods. “Okay.” But her eagerness disappears when I lead her into the barn and she sees the horses. “What are we doing in here? I assumed we’d be walking.”

I chuckle. “We could if you have a few spare hours. The place is a little big for that.”

“Maybe I’ll skip the tour then,” she says. “It’s trees and dirt. I’m sure it’s all the same.”

I look at Melena more closely, and she’s pale. “Are you afraid of horses?” I ask.

“Just…big animals in general.”

“You came to live on a ranch and you’re afraid of horses?”

Melena shakes her head. “Trevor didn’t mention anything about animals.”

I’m starting to wonder what exactly Trevor told her at all. “Well, if you’re going to be here, you need to be able to be around them,” I say gently, moving to the stall of our gentlest horse, Bean. “Come on.”

“I can’t.”

“You can,” I say. “Do you trust me?” She gives me a look that makes me chuckle, but I hold out my hand. “I made you breakfast without poison, remember?”

“Please don’t scare me,” she says, and the vulnerability there hits me in the gut.

“Melena,” I say, looking her in the eyes. “I’m a blunt man, but I’m not cruel. I can see that you’re scared already. I promise that I’m not going to make it worse.”

Slowly, she puts her hand in mine, and I draw her close. It’s not the way I imagined her approaching me, but I’m still glad to be in her proximity.

I move with her, pulling her in front of me into the stall. She shies away from Bean, leaning against me hard to try to put more distance between herself and the horse. But I’m not moved that easily. Bean hardly notices Melena’s nervousness, or cares.

Grabbing the brush off the wall, I fit her fingers into it, and move her hand, brushing the horse down. The smooth, easy motion slowly allows her to relax. “This is Bean,” I say low in her ear.

“Bean?”

I laugh softly, and she doesn’t resist when I slip my arm around her waist to steady her. The horse in front of us is white with brown speckles. “She reminded me of a vanilla bean,” I say. “Or the way that fresh vanilla ice cream looks. But Vanilla Bean is no name for a horse. So it’s simply Bean.”