Broken Trouble (Broken Storm #1) (26 page)

              The puppy struggled away from me, wobbling away from me a few more feet to lay against the barn again, yawning sleepily.

              I sighed and went back to painting. Mutt was just as stubborn as his owner.

              "Food's ready, y'all!" Polly called from the porch.

              I took the lid and set it on top of the paint can to insure that Mutt didn't lap any of it up, and headed towards the porch. It looked like Polly had a platter of sandwiches and a large pitcher of lemonade ready for a late lunch. The guys were walked towards the porch too, all of them glancing at each other, trying to walk faster than the other.

              I broke into a jog, beating them all.

              Hey, no one ever said that girls had to play fair.

              Polly smiled kindly at me as I scooped a sandwich off the plate and took a bite. Everyone else crowded in seconds later, nudging and reaching over one another to get to the food. It was like watching a bunch of hobos go after fresh food from a dumpster. Only they were hot cowboys.

              Chili rode up on his horse, making me wonder if he had smelled the food from wherever he had been on the ranch. "A fence is down and I need one of you to come help me fix it before the cattle gets out. Gavin, grab some barbed wire and saddle up."

              "Now?" Gavin grumbled, stuffing part of the sandwich into his mouth.

              "Yes, now," Chili ordered firmly. Polly grabbed a few sandwiches from the platter and walked down the porch steps to hand them to Chili.

              Gavin grunted, but turned and strode off the porch to do what he was told.

              I spotted Dylan sitting down on the porch swing, so I sat down close beside him. He smiled at me, his cheeks tinting in their usual blush. I smiled back, nudging him gently with my shoulder, then leaned against him. I fought the urge to tuck my legs up onto the swing, even though it felt like it would be the natural thing to do, I wasn't sure if I should actually do it. Wyatt sat on the other side of the swing, crossing one leg over the other in the way cowboys do, then rested his hat on his knee. He looked completely at ease, like it was something he did every day.

              Jayden saw us all sitting on the swing and grabbed another sandwich, coming over to us. He squeezed in between me and Wyatt. Even though we all adjusted, there was just not enough room on a swing that was only meant to hold three people. Jayden rested his arm across the back of the swing, pressing snugly against my side.

              I pressed closer to Dylan. If I moved any closer, I would be in his lap. I wonder how Jayden would take that?

              I heard the click of a camera and looked up, watching Landon take pictures from his place at the railing. He glanced up, obviously noticing that I was watching him from the screen, to smirk at me. I sat sandwiched between the guys until I ran out of sandwich and Jayden started nuzzling at my neck, then I got up. I pulled my body from the tight fit between them to go grab another sandwich from the platter.

              I heard the sound of hoof falls behind me and glanced back to see Gavin leading his horse towards the porch, a roll of barbed wire in hand.

              It was the first time I was seeing his horse close up. Its dark brown coat glistened in the heat of the sun and its long, cream colored mane and tail flowed in the gentle breeze, a white star on its forehead.

              Figures that such a jerk would have a gorgeous horse like that.

              Gavin let go of his horse's reins at the bottom of the steps, striding up to grab a sandwich from the plate. I felt him brush up against me for a split second, before he pulled back to leave. I felt a pull at my shirt and a scrape against my skin as the sound of something ripping reached my ears. I looked back at Gavin, then at my side, taking in the large rip in the side and the barbed wire in his hand. The barbs must have caught my shirt, and when he pulled back, it had ripped.

              Damn, I liked this shirt too. It had been one of the few shirts I had left from before coming to the ranch.

              Gavin glanced between the wire and my shirt in shock, then his jaw ticked with frustration.

              I didn't know how to react or what to say, and it seemed like he didn't either, unless he just didn't want to say anything to me. I reached down and felt at the rip, feeling the scratches across my side. Gavin hesitated, which was a shock to me, I expected him to just keep walking and not care, or even blame it on me. What he said next almost made me faint. It was a low whisper, floating to my ears as he walked off to mount his horse. "Sorry."

              Did he really just say that he was sorry without being ordered to do so from Polly? I couldn't tell how sincere he had been, because his voice was deep and emotionless, but the fact that he had said it all meant a lot.

              Maybe he really was coming around.

              I turned around and looked at the guys, wondering if they had heard what he has said. Everyone was focused on their food, making me think that they hadn’t. Except for Wyatt, who gave me the slightest smile. Nothing seemed to slip past him, especially not when it came to me or his brother.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

              A few hours later, I’d painted my way to where Wyatt was painting. We worked on connecting the two spots. Wyatt stayed quiet, just painting and watching me from the corner of his eye.

              I rubbed the back of my hand across my forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat that were gathering there, which seemed to catch his attention.

              "If you're hot, you should wear your hat," Wyatt suggested as he continued to paint. His words came across as normal advice at first, before I realized how he had spoken. He never said things without having an inner meaning.

              Was he upset that I wasn't wearing the hat that he had given me? "I didn't want to get paint on it," I admitted truthfully.

              Wyatt seemed to digest my answer with a solemn nod and only a short glance at my paint covered appearance. I swear I could see his shoulders relax, but it was so subtle that I could have been mistaken.

              Silence settled between us while we continued painting, until I spoke again. "I was thinking that maybe we could move Storm into one of the fields," I said, worried that he would think it was a bad idea. "If there's an empty one that is. I don't think I can get a halter on him just yet, though I think he might follow me without one." Or so I hoped. If I was wrong and Storm took off running, then that would be both embarrassing and disappointing.

              Wyatt finished the last few strokes of paint, making our side of the barn complete. He looked at me, thinking, his eyes appraising me. He focused on my shirt for a few minutes, which seemed like an odd thing for him to do. "I think it should work," he murmured, more to himself than me, then he spoke louder. "Go in and wash up.  Change your shirt and bring me that one. We'll see if we can move him tonight."

              "Okay," I agreed, not asking for details, even though I wondered what he was planning. Whatever it was, I didn't have to worry about it being bad. When it came to horses, or anything for that matter, I felt like I could trust Wyatt.

              So I turned and went inside the house to take a quick shower, scrubbing most of the paint off. I took the dirty, torn shirt back out to him after I was done, wondering what he would want with it. The shirt was something that I would just throw out. I placed the hat he had given me on my head, knowing that it was something that he would like, even if he wouldn't say it bluntly.

              Wyatt was leaning against Storm's corral, and I watched him as I walked up. He took the shirt from my hands and sat down with his back against the corral. I sat beside him, watching him as he took out a knife and started slicing and ripping my shirt to strips. "Braid these together," he directed, handing me the strips as he cut them.

              I braided them together, three strips to a braid. He had tied some of them together to make longer strips, and I wondered what he was up to. No matter how curious I got, we maintained a comfortable silence between us while we worked.

              When Wyatt was done cutting the shirt, he picked up the braided strips and started tying them together. It didn't take him long to finish, and when he did, he handed it to me. It took me a minute to recognize what it was; a halter for Storm.

              Why hadn't I thought of this? My shirt would smell like me, not like a halter, so Storm might actually wear it.

              Wyatt stood and opened the corral gate for me. "Take your time and do it only when you're both ready. If you think you can, then try and put him in the pasture. Relax and trust him and he'll trust you," he advised, closing the gate behind me.

              "Are you going to help?"

              "This is something that you and Storm need to do on your own, I'll be around," Wyatt assured me. He touched the brim of my hat in an affectionate manner that told me that he liked that I was wearing it, before leaving me alone with Storm.

              I approached Storm slowly, pulling out some Sugar Straws from my pocket. Storm's ears swiveled towards me and he perked up and trotted to me. I dumped out the contents of a Sugar Straw into my hand, letting him greedily lick up the contents. Then I held up the shirt halter, letting him smell it to see how he would react.

              Storm paused, smelling it, then nudged it to the side to see if I had any more candy for him. I sighed in relief. If he didn't care about the halter, then my logic told me that it was a good sign for getting it on him.

              I petted Storm, running my hands over his body as I took my time like Wyatt had suggested. I did this for who-knows-how long and soon he was completely relaxed, even shifting his weight to rest one of his legs, his head drooping.

              I almost felt bad that I was going to have to put the halter on him and interrupt his relaxed state. He needed to get out of this corral though, so he could stretch his legs and eat like the other horses. I slowly lifted the halter towards his head, but he turned his head, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air for Sugar Straws. He let out a loud huff when he didn't smell any, moving his head back and staring down at me, as if to say he wouldn't be putting his head into the halter without some treats.

              I pulled out a few Sugar Straws and poured them into my hand, resting the nose of the halter around it in hopes that when he went after the powder, then I could just slip the halter up.

              It would have worked perfectly too, if I hadn't needed two hands to tie the halter on.

              Storm skittered back away from me when I fumbled with the halter, snorting loudly and chewing on whatever sugar he had licked up.

              I obviously needed another plan.

              Sitting on the ground, I poured some of the Sugar Straw powder out onto my shorts. It was the only thing I could think of, and I hoped he wouldn't bite my leg or freak out when I tied the halter on and trample me.

              Shoving those thoughts away, I focused on Storm. He dropped his head, his breath blowing across my legs as he zoned in on the sugar. I let him eat some of it before making my move, trying not to laugh as his lips tickled my leg.

              His head jerked up as I pulled the halter up. He eyed me and I paused, staring back at him, waiting for him to make the choice to stay or leave. When he did, he chose to trust me by dropped his head back down to eat.

              I tied the halter on loosely, giving him plenty of room, then dropped my hands.

              Storm's head snapped up in surprise, his ears flicking back and forth. As I stood up, he freaked out. Letting out a snort, he shook his head like he was trying to fling the halter off. When it stayed in place, he took off running and bucking.

              Maybe it was too soon to do this with him. He was barely tame, let alone ready to have a halter put on him. Immediately I wished I’d waited, or that I could take it off and take back what I’d done to him.

              Instead, I could only watch as he squealed in rage and ran around the corral. It felt like he had been running forever when he finally stopped, turning to face me, like he was glaring at me.

              Pouring more Sugar Straws into my hand, I held it out to him, hoping he would come back to me. I stood and waited like that, ignoring the pain and trembling in my arm from holding the position for so long.

              Finally, Storm snorted and walked forward slowly, coming so close that I could feel his breath against my face, his muzzle almost touching me. He completely ignored the sugary powder, focusing on me as he rubbed the halter against the side of my face.

              I had a choice, remove the halter and have to do this again, or try and move him now.

              Walking towards the gate, I could hear Storm following me closely. I swallowed hard, my hand on the gate latch, nerves rattling my stomach. I reached back and took hold of his halter gently, then opened the gate wide and walked out. Storm followed the first few steps, then stopped, his hooves at the edge of the corral, like there was an invisible barrier holding him in place. I paused, waiting. If I pulled on his halter, he would probably resist.