Off to the Races: A Small Town Enemies to Lovers Romance (Gold Rush Ranch Book 1)
Off to the Races: Chapter 8

This morning the fold out chair has basically turned into my throne, and I’m not complaining.

After my date with a grumpy black horse and a bottle of red wine last night, I quickly showered and fell into bed. I was dead to the world until about 3am when I jolted awake feeling totally disoriented. I tried to fall back asleep, but jet lag was still a bitch and wouldn’t let me sleep anymore. After all, it was 11am in Dublin. I rolled out of bed, chastising myself, and let the shame spiral begin. How old am I? Draining a bottle of wine on a work night? Telling my new boss he looks good on his knees?

Cringe. Cringe. Cringe.

When I crawled out here for some fresh air and to peek in on how the farm runs in the morning, Hank walked up to me and said, “Billie girl, you look like death warmed over.”

I grumbled back something about, “No, you do.” Because I am very witty and mature like that.

He laughed and scrubbed my hair like I was a little kid. Then he sent all the other staff down to introduce themselves and have a little chat.

I feel like a lazy queen.

DD seems pretty comfortable with me, the human vending machine, sitting here. So long as I don’t move too suddenly and keep tossing the odd cookie his way, he’s happy. I watch his reaction to each of the five men who came down to visit me. He ignores a couple, makes faces at one, and throws a total tantrum over the other two. I’m thinking he’s a better judge of character than I realized.

None of them come very close, except to shake my hand, after which they back away slowly. Or quickly, depending on how badly DD is behaving. It makes me chuckle inwardly. I feel like Daenerys sitting here with a dragon behind my back. Everyone scared to come too close. Some more than others.

I think they’re all being ridiculous. Sure, DD comes across as a real grumpy little bitch, but he’s still just a horse. You work with them long enough and you get to know their different behaviors. And in my books, DD isn’t that alarming.

I think he’s kind of charming. I appreciate he doesn’t have a silly, dopey little persona. I know that if I can channel his intelligence and spunk into a competitive instinct, he’ll be winning Gold Rush Ranch an awful lot of races.

I just have to come at him from a different angle.

I’m still sitting in my throne making notes on each of the horse’s files when I hear footsteps approaching. Looking up, I see a young woman, with a serious look on her face, walking towards me.

“Hi. I’m Violet Eaton,” she says quietly, getting close enough to shake my hand.

“Hi, Violet.” I give her a warm smile and look her up and down.

“I’m one of the grooms here. Hank has me assigned to the young horses, and I just wanted to come introduce myself.” She stares past me at DD, wringing her hands.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” I say back. “It’s also really nice to see some estrogen around this place.”

At that comment, her round blue eyes shoot back towards me in shock. Her cheeks tinge light pink on her porcelain skin while she tries to bite back a smile. “It’s kind of a sausage fest isn’t it?”

I bark out a loud laugh. “Welcome to the sport of kings, my friend,” I reply with a wink.

She chuckles, while nodding her dainty little head. She looks like a doll. Petite everything, topped off with a shock of icy blonde hair rolled up into a tidy bun on her head. I feel like a slobby amazon next to her.

“Tell me more about yourself,” I say, waving a hand towards the chair beside me. She hits me with a surprised look and then plops down.

My eyes immediately shift to DD, who startled at how abruptly Violet sat down. He stares at her with intelligent black eyes, then looks at me and pricks his ears forward. Forward! Which is basically the equivalent of a smile. Then he snorts and goes back to his fresh pile of hay.

I look over at Violet and bulge my eyes. She quirks one side of her mouth and shrugs in response.

“I don’t think he’s as bad as everyone makes him out to be. The rumour mill here is vicious, and so was the old trainer.”

My mouth twists as I shake my head at her assessment. Pretty much what I had figured all along.

“Sorry,” she adds quickly, “I shouldn’t speak poorly about someone who isn’t here to defend themselves.”

I roll my eyes at that. “Don’t be, my responsibility is to the horses here, not some person I’ve never met before. Plus, I already came to the same conclusion.”

And I mean it. A horse can’t speak for himself. It’s my duty to be his ally. Other adults can be accountable for their own actions and reputations. That isn’t my job; I’m not here to hold anyone’s hand and rub their back over how they trashed their own reputation. Either way, I like this girl. She’s adorable, honest, and DD approved too.

I also need a friend. Everyone I met this morning was polite enough. But I could tell there were a couple exercise riders who might be a harder sell on their new boss. Older guys who’ve probably been around a long time, maybe friends with people caught in the crossfire of the scandal here.

As the new girl on the block, still only in her twenties, I know I’m going to be subject to some scoffs and silent treatments. Maybe even a little mansplaining, if I’m really lucky. That’s my favorite, Listen up, little lady, I been at this for a long time.

I inwardly roll my eyes and look next to me where Violet still looks guilty for saying too much. Breaking our moment of silence, I ask, “Are you only assigned to the two-year-old horses?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect, they’re my main projects right now, which makes you my groom.” I brush my legs off as I stand and stretch my hands above my head. Violet gives me another wide-eyed look. “You’ve really got that deer-in-the-headlights face down, huh?”

A shocked giggle escapes her lips as she grazes one hand over her cheek and stands. “I’ve been told I don’t control my facial expressions very well.”

“Ha. You don’t, but I like it. It means you aren’t full of shit. Join me for lunch at my house? I’m starving. Then we can get the horses out for some work this afternoon.”

After enjoying tuna sandwiches on the porch swing, Violet and I walk back across the field to the farm. We had a nice lunch. The more relaxed she became in my presence the more she talked.

“So, where are you from originally?” I ask.

Violet rolls her eyes. “A small town you’ve probably never heard of. Chestnut Springs. It’s just south of Calgary, Alberta.”

“Sounds like a town in a cowboy movie.”

“Looks like one too.”

“Yeah? Hot cowboys and everything?” I waggle my eyebrows at her.

The apples of her cheeks bloom pink and she shakes her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. She’s only a few years younger than me, but comes off so innocent. For a farm girl, she’s remarkably demure. “Hang around with me long enough and you’ll loosen up a bit, Violet.”

“I’m a little scared by that statement.” She giggles.

“I’m willing to bet that if I get a few drinks into you, you’ll be swearing like a sailor and riding the mechanical bull topless at the local country bar. The quiet ones are always the craziest.”

A strangled noise lodges in her throat as she turns her wide eyes on me once again.

I throw my head back and laugh as we round the corner back into the barn. But my amusement is ruined by Vaughn-the-wet-blanket-Harding when I crash right into his rock-hard chest and hear him say, “Why are you so loud then?”

He looks down his straight nose at me smugly, feeling all high and mighty about having overheard us no doubt.

What a dick.

I just roll my eyes and strike back, “Why? You hoping to catch me riding topless, Boss Man?”

I swear he growls as he shoulders past me, and I can’t stop the small smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. Antagonizing the boss shouldn’t be this fun.