Done and Dusted: A Rebel Blue Ranch Novel

I was starting to think Emmy was put on this earth to torture me. After the breakfast at the Big House yesterday, I was pretty damn convinced that was the case.

I didn’t hear a thing Gus and Amos said about their conference, and I couldn’t even give a damn that I’d agreed to help Gus with a bunch of extra work.

All I could do was try not to look at Emmy and try not to think about how her skin had felt under my hands.

She also did a damn good job at ignoring me, and that pissed me off.

I was ignoring her back, but still.

The best I could do was sneak a few glances when I thought she wasn’t looking. Her hair was messy, as usual.NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.

I wanted to be the one who made it that way.

That’s what I was thinking about while I was mucking out stalls, which was one of the tasks I’d agreed to yesterday.

The Ryders had three stables on the property, but only two of them were currently in use. This one, which had the family’s horses, also included the horses and ponies we used for lessons—about fifteen in total. The other stable was further down the way, and it was where the ranch hands could keep their horses if they brought their own with them. That stable was the biggest, so it also had horses whose owners had rented space. I was grateful I wasn’t mucking out stalls in there.

I started with Friday’s stall. Friday was mine. He was a palomino Morgan that came to the ranch as a rescue when I was seventeen. The first time I saw him, I was listening to “Friday, I’m in Love” by the Cure in my truck. That’s where his name came from.

Friday was close to Moonshine and Maple, Emmy’s horses. Even though she’d been home for almost a week, I hadn’t seen her at the stables once. I knew she had to have come to let all the horses out to pasture and bring them back in, but her tack stayed in the same place.

That meant she hadn’t gone riding.

That wasn’t like her. Not at all.

Amos normally had to fight to get Emmy off a horse. There was never any trouble getting her on one. Amos was one hell of a horse whisperer, but Emmy was close to having him beat.

I thought back to the fall in the cabin, the way she’d looked at the blood. I wondered if that had anything to do with her unexpected return home.

Yesterday, it was obvious Amos was so happy to have her home, he didn’t care why. Wes, too. But I could tell Gus was worried.

I was, too. Not that I had any right to be.

I heard the stable door open, and Emmy came in. Of course she came in right when I was thinking about her. That’s what I got for lusting after my best friend’s little sister.

She was wearing her boots, black leggings, and a white tank top. Her hair was braided down her back and topped with a ratty baseball cap. Why did she always have to look so damn good? She was making her way toward Maple’s stall, but stopped when she saw me.

“Hey,” I forced out.

“Hey. Stall duty?”

“Yeah. Friday and Moonshine are out to pasture, if you were looking for her.”

“I’m here for Maple. Don’t worry about Moonshine’s. I can do it.”

“Alright. Are you here to ride?”

There was a long pause. Emmy looked almost scared. Scared of Maple? Scared of riding?

“Yeah, I’m here to ride,” she said finally. She didn’t seem so sure about her response. I kept mucking out Friday’s stall, but I couldn’t help but sneak glances at Emmy. I tried not to be obvious about it. She took Maple’s halter into her stall. When she went to open the stall door, her hands were shaking.

What the hell?

She brought Maple out to the cross ties and grabbed the grooming tools from the wal. I could still see her hands shaking when she started to brush Maple.

Emmy knew better than anyone that handling a horse by yourself when you were feeling nervous or scared was a bad idea.

Her back was to me. The longer she brushed, the less her hand shook, but she was still wound tighter than a drum.

“Emmy?” I said quietly as I approached her. She didn’t answer. She just kept brushing. I noticed her shoulders were shaking slightly, too. “Emmy,” I said more firmly. She still didn’t answer me. I was right behind her now, so I reached out and put my hand over hers to stop the brush. Besides her shaky hands and shoulders, she went completely still.

I took the brush out of her hand and then wrapped my fingers around hers and started to lead her away from Maple. I finally got her to face me when I put both my hands on her shoulders. There were tears in her eyes.

Fuck.

I didn’t want to see her cry.

“Talk to me, Emmy. What’s going on?”

“I’m fine.” One tear fell down her cheek. I wiped it away without thinking about it.

“You’re obviously not fine.” I had never seen her like this. I hated it. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

She was still for a second, but then she nodded slowly. I rubbed my hands up and down her upper arms, trying to calm her down.

“You can tell me, Emmy.”

“I’m fine.” She was still crying, but her voice was angry now.

“Emmy—”

“Don’t. Leave me alone.” Yeah, I definitely would not be doing that, but I didn’t push her right then. I stood by her, letting her cry for a little while longer. Watching the tears fall down her face felt like a punch to the throat.

Something had to have happened to her. She came home out of nowhere and didn’t tell anyone. Gus told me she hadn’t really left her cabin, and now she wasn’t riding.

What the hell happened to her in Denver?

I was going to find out.

“Emmy, why did you come home?” I asked. Trying to keep my voice soft, even though seeing her like this was making me feel weird, and that freaked me the fuck out.

“Why do you care?”

“Because I care about you,” I said. That had always been true, but it sounded different now.

Emmy just scoffed. I decided to try another angle.

“C’mon, Emmy. You have to tell someone, and even if I told Gus, do you think he’s going to believe you confided in me? You can’t stand me.”

I tried not to visibly deflate at that last part.

“You can tell me, Emmy.”

Emmy let out a deep breath before speaking. “I…I got hurt. I got thrown,” she said. Her voice was shaking, and more tears started to fall. “I got thrown, and it was into the fence…” She was talking faster now. It was like the words were a firehose. “I got knocked out and woke up with blood in my eyes. I hit my head just right, and I don’t know what happened. I was riding a different horse. Just doing drills…I was thrown so far and I hit the fence so hard. I should’ve been hurt worse…” Her breaths were getting faster.

Dangerously so.

“I’m so sorry that happened, Emmy. I really am.” Remember the throat punch from earlier? It was way fucking worse now. Of course she hadn’t been riding. Going through shit like that would mess with anyone’s head. I could only imagine how much worse it was for Emmy, considering how she’d lost her mom.

Even if she didn’t relate both of those events together, I bet her head did, whether she acknowledged it or not.

“I woke up, and I tried to get back on. I really did…but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it, and I haven’t been able to since.” Emmy’s breathing didn’t slow at all. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.”

“Emmy, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” I kept rubbing her arms. Her whole body was shaking now, and she brought her hands up to her neck and started scratching, like she was trying to escape from her own skin.

“Emmy. Tell me what you need. Tell me what I need to do.”

“I need…” she said as best she could between breaths. “Can you…?”

“Anything, sugar.”

“Squeeze. Please.” She shut her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, like she was giving herself a hug. I got it.

I pulled her into my arms and lowered both of us to the ground. I held her tight to my chest and started gently rocking back and forth. I felt her tears dampening my shirt.

“Emmy, breathe with me, okay?” I started exaggerating my breaths, in and out, so Emmy could feel them and hear them. “You’re safe, Emmy.”

We stayed on the floor of the stable for a while. Emmy’s breathing started to slow, and I let my grip on her loosen as I felt her relax. I kept my breathing the same. Slow and steady.

After a few more minutes, Emmy pulled her face away from my neck. Her face was red and her eyes were glassy.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Emmy. Please don’t. Has that happened to you before?” She just nodded. “For how long? Since the throw?”

“A few times before that, but it’s been happening more since then.”

“Does it happen every time you try to ride?”

“Almost every time.” Fuck. If there was one thing everyone knew about Emmy, it was that she loved to ride. Not just race, but ride. She was probably the only person who had actually ridden every trail through Rebel Blue—not just the main ones. Multiple times. Knowing she wasn’t able to ride devastated me in a way I wasn’t expecting.

Everything I’d been feeling for her was unexpected.

I wanted to help.

“And you’ve been trying to ride every day?”

She nodded.

“Emmy, why are you doing that to yourself?” Her eyes welled with tears again. Shit.

“I thought it would get better. I really thought it would get better.”

“It will get better, Emmy,” I said. “But the saying ‘get back on the horse’ doesn’t work if it’s giving you panic attacks.”

“I don’t know what to do, Brooks.” Seeing Emmy hurt was fucking terrible. I wanted so badly to make it stop for her.

Maybe I could. I had an idea.

“You’ve put up one hell of a mental block, Emmy. You’re a damn good rider—you just need to learn to trust your skills again.”

“How?”

“We’re going to start from the beginning.”

She tilted her head at me. “We?”

“Yeah. I teach people how to ride, Emmy,” I reasoned softly, trying not to puncture the bubble we were in. At this point, I would’ve done anything to be close to Emmy, but this was more than that. I wanted her to get back on the horse, and I wanted to be the one who helped her.

I wanted her to be able to do what she loved.

“You’re offering to teach me how to ride?” she breathed. Her voice was shaky and unsure.

“Why not?”

“We’re not friends, Brooks.” Ouch.

“Why can’t we start now?” I wanted to be more than her friend, but she didn’t need to know that. No one needed to know that.

Emmy looked down, not making eye contact with me. I watched her eyes dart back and forth across the ground. She did that when she was thinking. She always had.

After what felt like forever, she said, “Fine. But you can’t tell Gus or Wes what’s going on. I don’t want them to know.” Yeah, I definitely would not be telling them anything that was related to Emmy and me.

“Deal. We’ll start tomorrow, after whatever Wes has you doing. Eight AM?”

“Sure,” she said. I realized we were still tangled together on the floor of the stable, and Maple, who was apparently the world’s best horse, was still content on her cross ties. Emmy seemed to realize this at the same time I did and basically jumped off my lap.

I stood, too.

“Thank you. For that,” she said, motioning to the ground. “I’ve never been with anyone when that’s happened. It was…helpful. Thank you.” I smiled at her, and I could’ve sworn she blushed.

It was probably just a trick of the light.

Emmy turned to Maple and started untying her. “I got her,” I said. “You go. I’ll let her out and do her stall.”

“You don’t have to—”

“It’s fine, Emmy. Go.”

“Thank you, Brooks. For everything. I really do appreciate it.” She turned to head out the stable door.

“Hey, Emmy,” I called. She turned back to me. The sun was shining at her back as she stood in the stable door. She looked like a fucking angel—an off limits angel.

“Yeah?”

“Friends, then?” I asked. She seemed to chew on that for a moment.

“Friends,” she said.

When it came to Emmy, I was playing with fire, but I would happily walk into the flames for her.

And I’d have a smile on my face the whole damn time.