Off to the Races: A Small Town Enemies to Lovers Romance (Gold Rush Ranch Book 1)
Off to the Races: Chapter 30

“Are you sure?” Hank is sitting at my kitchen island, eyes full of concern, while I lean on the counter across from him scrubbing my face with my hands.

Am I sure? No. I’m sure of anything right now. Vaughn Harding rocked the very foundation of everything I thought I knew about myself.

I put him up on some sort of moral pedestal, so not only did he rip my heart out, but he also added insult to injury by stomping all over it. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten involved with him. Workplace entanglements always end up being cluster fucks. And this was a cluster fuck to end all cluster fucks.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I say from behind my hands. “Why did I do this, Hank?”

“Because I begged you to come work with me,” he offers with a hesitant chuckle, trying to make me feel better.

I drop my hands and look up at the ceiling. “Not the job. This is the best job I’ve ever had. I mean Vaughn. What is it about me that is so undesirable? Why does no one ever choose me? Like really choose me. Even when there’s nothing in it for them. Even when it’s not convenient.”

I hear the strangled grunt he emits as he moves to stand before me. He puts his palms on my shoulders, and I peer up into his kind, open face. Silent tears stream down my cheeks as he gives me a gentle shake. “I chose you, Billie. And I’d choose you again and again. You’re like a daughter to me. I’m so proud of you. And I can’t speak to your family, and the choices they’ve made. To be frank, they sound like a bunch of assholes.” I can’t help the small hysterical laugh that spills out over my lips. He’s not wrong on that front.

“But Vaughn,” he sighs and looks up at the ceiling, “he’s a good man, who’s making a misguided decision. He’s had a hard year, but you’re right that it’s not your job to fix this for him. He has to figure it out on his own. If I know him at all, I suspect he’ll come around. I just hope he’s not too late.”

I blink rapidly and press my lips together. “I don’t know if I can forgive him for this even if he does.” Hank hugs me then, cocooning me in his big heavy body. Everything about him is soothing and warm, steady and sure.

“That’s your prerogative, Billie girl. But don’t forget that if you want people to choose you, you’ll have to give them the opportunity. I know you’ve been burned, and I know you don’t trust easily, but you’ll never replace what you’re seeking if you’re not at least open to being chosen.” His big hand smooths the back of my hair down. “It’s a delicate balance. You’re an exceptional young woman, so don’t sell yourself short, but don’t lock yourself away either. Somebody worthy will earn your trust.”

“Okay,” I whisper into his shoulder.

“Promise me you won’t let this make you gun shy.”

“I promise.” I say as I sniffle and nuzzle in harder. I’m pretty sure I’ve soaked his shirt in this spot with my blubbering.

“Did you just wipe your nose on me, kid?”

I laugh now.

Hank has always had the ability to make me feel better while also setting me straight. He gives me the kick in the ass I need and rubs my back all at once, which is something you do for people you love. You’re honest with them about their shortcomings, but you’re still on their side. No matter what.

“I think I might have. But I’m done now.” I pull back and give him a shaky smile. “I’m not going to cry anymore. I can’t cry anymore. It’s dehydrating. And exhausting.” Major understatement. I’m positively dead on my feet. I didn’t sleep at all last night and the emotional toll of the last couple days is catching up with me, hard. “Both of which will lead to premature aging, which I just can’t have.” I wink at him, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

He grins back. “There she is. My little fighter. I sure missed you while you were traipsing around Europe.” His fingers squeeze my shoulder reassuringly.

I roll my eyes at his description of me. “Missed you too, old man.”

I lean on the fence of DD’s paddock. His head snaps up from his hay net and he greets me with a gentle nicker before plodding over for attention. And cookies, let’s be honest. It’s probably cookies.

“Hey, boy.” I run my hand over the big round plate of his cheek as he blows warm air into my ear. His head goes right over my shoulder, like he’s about to hug me, but instead, I feel the brush of his sneaky little lips at the back pockets of my jeans.

Searching for cookies.

“I’m just your meal ticket, aren’t I, big fella?” I press a kiss to his shiny ebony neck, and then hand him a cookie, because I’m a sucker like that. Wrapping my arms around his neck as he crunches happily, I whisper, “I’m going to miss you, DD.”

My eyes well, and that tell-tale ache at the back of my throat springs up.

Images of Vaughn moving over top of me spring up into my mind. I can almost feel the way his fingers trail possessively up over my rib cage. The way the scratch of his stubble beneath my ear can shoot goosebumps across my chest. The way the arches of my feet ache when he pushes me right to the edge so relentlessly.

But I shake it off. Thinking about those days and nights isn’t productive and they’re damn near impossible to escape. Every time I let myself wallow in those memories, it’s like being tossed around in the surf during a storm. Grasping around for something—anything—to hang on to until the realization hits me that there’s nothing to save me. That I’m destined to sink into the black water.

I get back to brushing. This will probably be my last day with DD before he leaves for Stefan Dalca’s facility, and I won’t waste it wallowing over a man.

Instead, I spend the afternoon exploring the trails around the farm, relaxing into the gentle sway of his ribcage beneath the saddle. Soaking in the feel of the warm sun on my back, on my face, and marveling at how relaxed DD is as he strolls along the trails with his head slung low and tail swishing.

I scratch at his withers often. I lean down over his toned neck to hug him too. I do my best not to cry, but silent tears stream down my cheeks as we turn back up towards the barn. A heavy pit forms in my stomach as we get closer. This is it. Goodbye.

I’ve said goodbye to plenty of horses in my career. But this feels different. And it’s only made worse because my relationship with Vaughn has blown up too. It had been fast, and new, and exciting. When we were together, it felt promising. We spent months getting to know each other, talking, sharing secrets—sharing quiet moments. Our gazes held unsaid words, and our touches lingered just that little bit too long. It was no wonder other people saw what was happening while we were both still in denial.

We were a head on collision that neither one of us saw coming.

I can’t help but wonder if I’m making the wrong decision. Have I overreacted? Would it be worth looking the other way to keep at least one of them? At least then I wouldn’t be left with nothing.

A sigh rattles out of my chest. No. My pride won’t let me do that. I’ve compromised my dignity one too many times to cover up the scandal of a powerful man. It left me feeling dirty, bought… cheap. I’d take a broken heart over that feeling any day.

Even if it means losing the man I love.

I’ve spent an awful lot of time denying my feelings about Vaughn Harding. Shielding myself, cracking jokes, ignoring the telltale signs of losing myself in him. But here I am, living proof that I am very much in love with him. I didn’t even realize it until I lost him.

Maybe I should have told him. I keep circling around in my head. Maybe he would have handled the whole thing differently if he knew? But then, if he loved me back, he wouldn’t be doing this, would he?

If he loved me, he wouldn’t be selling DD off to clear a dead man’s tarnished reputation at my expense.

At DD’s stall, I shower him in kisses and slide my hands across his silky coat. I cradle his head and look into his big black eyes, reminded of Vaughn’s dark irises.

“You be a good boy for your new family.” My voice cracks brokenly and tears rush out, unstoppable in their flow. I tap his forehead, making him blink quickly in confusion. “You win it all for me, little man. Do you hear?” His pointy ears tip forward, and I stand on my tippy toes to whisper, “Run your little heart out. Leave the rest of ‘em in the dust.”

Then I sit down on the floor of his stall and let the sobs I’ve been holding back all afternoon wrack my body.

The floral tang of gin spreads out across my tongue as I look around the busy patio. Neighbor’s pub is the quintessential small town dive bar. Grizzled bartender, suspect carpet on the floors, and filled with either locals or people stopping in on their way to or from Vancouver. The patio is basically just a parking lot filled with picnic tables.

I love it.

Violet decided that a girl’s night out is what I need. Apparently, replaceing me crying on a dirty stall floor was too much, even for her. So here I am, at a small-town bar, sitting in the sun, sipping a gin and tonic with Violet and my favorite vet in town, Mira Thorne. Both looking at me like I’m a ticking time bomb.

“So help me, if you bitches don’t stop looking at me like I’m going to break, I’ll waste my drink on your faces. I’m fine.”

Mira, the ice queen, smirks. “You’re entertaining.”

Violet’s big blue doe eyes bore into me, concern etched all over her dainty little face. “Billie, I just want to make sure you’re okay. I’m sad you’re planning to leave Gold Rush, but more than that, I’m worried about you. You’re always the glass-half-full one. And now you’re not. It’s stressing me out.”

“Vivi. Don’t stress about things you can’t control. You’re about to be one of the most sought-after jockeys in the business. No way will Dalca switch up a winning combination. He’s a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them.”

Mira snorts as she takes a big glug of her cocktail.

I incline my head towards her. “Care to elaborate, Dr. Thorne?”

She smacks her lips and turns her cunning eyes my way. “The man is a goddamn snake in the grass. But you are right that he isn’t stupid.”

“I didn’t know you had any experience with him.”

“I’m a track vet. I know everything about everyone. Every rumor. Every hookup. Every backroom deal. He’s been after me about coming to work at his farm, exclusively.”

I wrinkle my nose in distaste. “Gross.”

Violet’s cheeks go pink as she leans in and whispers, “Well, I mean, he’s not that gross. He’s actually pretty yummy.”

“Yummy, Violet? Really? How old are you?”

Mira’s eyes light with amusement. “You mean fuckable, Violet.” Violet blushes, and Mira cackles.

As far as Stefan Dalca goes, I can’t see past my pure rage to look at him that way. Never mind his physical attributes, I’d throw the whole man in the trash and slam the lid. “You’re both fucked in the head.” I turn to Mira, “Careful with that, he’s scary manipulative.”

“Don’t I know it,” she says, leaning back and sighing. “But, I need to explore my options. I’m going to have to replace something more consistent than just the track. Getting laid off during the off-season isn’t ideal for paying back student loans. Or other things.” She trails one dainty finger down the condensation on the glass before her. Head shaking, she adds, “Not nearly enough.”

“Talk to Hank. We were literally just discussing hiring an on-site veterinarian. Ruby Creek doesn’t have a local practice, and you know first-hand how bad DD’s colic could have been if you hadn’t been close already.”

Mira strokes her chin as she muses. “You might be onto something. I’m dead sick of commuting downtown.” She snorts. “And I’m dead sick of living with my parents on their dairy farm. I need a change.”

I almost spray them both with gin as I struggle to contain my shock. “You still live with your parents?”

Pink smudges pop up on her round cheekbones. “It’s a long story.”

“This is great, you guys.” I hold my glass up to cheers them. “Hearing about your fucked up lives is actually making me feel better.” Mother hen Violet gives me a disapproving look, but Mira cracks a sultry smile and taps her drink against mine. I swear the woman just oozes sensuality out of every pore, without even trying. Beauty and brains—what isn’t to like? Feeling the gin go to my head after not eating properly for days I blurt out, “If I wasn’t so into dicks, I’d be into you, Mira.”

Violet chokes on her drink, laying her hand across her reddening chest. Downright scandalized. But Mira just winks at me. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“Speaking of dicks, Vi… What’s good with you and G.I. Joe?”

Mira quirks her head to the side, in question.

“Vaughn’s brother,” I explain. “The two of them are weird as fuck around each other. I don’t need a college education to figure that much out.” I turn my gaze back on Violet, who is now taking very un-ladylike gulps of her drink.

Yikes. Looks like I struck a chord.

She takes a deep breath, and then looks out across the busy patio, avoiding eye contact. “I plead the fifth.”

“Oh, god. This has to be so good, Vi. You are killing me.”

Mira smiles and pats Violet’s shoulder. “Everything comes out in the end, Violet.”

She looks like a deer in the headlights when she turns to the other woman and says, “In this case, it better not.”

Our night continues much the same. Good laughs, good ribbing, and good company. On a lot of levels, I feel more settled than I have in years. But that could be the gin buzz, too.

Later that night, when I walk into the empty cabin and look out at the darkened paddock, I don’t even cry.