The Private Stable [Iron Spur Ranch 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (2 page)

BOOK: The Private Stable [Iron Spur Ranch 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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It was so good to hear her mother’s voice. It brought memories of hot cocoa on rainy nights, star gazing on the front lawn, and the comfort of her array of teddy bears when she slept. If only she could turn back time and be a kid again.

She desperately wanted to spill her guts and tell her mother every sordid detail from the past couple years. She wanted to tell her about the times he’d slapped her, pushed her, destroyed her things, or called her a fat slob. She wanted to tell her how scared and lonely she was, how she wished she was home in her childhood bedroom, and how it was a chore just to face each new day. But her voice stopped working and tears clouded her vision.

“Rachel?”

“Fine, Mom. Really good.”

“You sure? You don’t sound like yourself.”

Rachel had wanted to prove her mother wrong when she’d first said Jason was a bad choice. She’d been young and convinced she was in love. Now she wished she could turn back the wheels of time. Rather than tell the truth, she decided not to burden her mother with her troubles. Rachel was an adult now, twenty-eight, and it was up to her to change her own life.

“I just wanted to call and tell you that I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

She hung up the phone shortly afterward and looked for a quick hideaway because the floodgates of her emotions broke free. The scent of gasoline and cigarette smoke whirled around her, clogging her senses. A car honked when she’d stepped off the sidewalk without looking both ways. She was a complete mess. Rachel ran across the road to the small parkette. Being a weekday, there weren’t many people nearby, giving her the privacy she desperately needed. She sat on the bench facing the large, concrete fountain, trying to analyze her situation rationally, without the burden of emotion—especially fear. Fear of Jason’s anger, fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of just about everything. It was so much easier to go numb, but after hearing her mother’s voice, she was transported back to better times. Everything she’d planned for herself as a young woman had fallen through. Now she was drowning in regret, desperate for a lifeline.

Two nights later, she fully planned to talk to Jason about their relationship. He hadn’t spoken with her since the sandwich incident, and the tension was killing her. At times she prayed for anything but silence. Even a volatile outburst was preferable to the waiting, the painful anticipation. She figured it could only go one of two ways—he’d throw her out or change his ways. Contemplating the unknown variables was driving her mad. But anything would be an improvement to her current predicament.

“Jason?”

He was watching television, as usual, the volume near deafening.

“Jason?”

She knew he could hear her, choosing to ignore her instead. When she started to walk back to the kitchen, he finally snapped, “What do you want?”

“I wanted to talk. About how things have been going lately…between us.”

He turned his head to look at her. His features were set, his eyes lethal. She’d become a problem in his life that he’d rather not deal with. Those same eyes once looked at her with affection, but she could scarcely remember those days.

“And how the fuck are things, Rachel?”

“Not the best.”

“You’re just trying to make my life more difficult. I work my ass off—for what?”

Jason had a job delivering newspapers in the mornings and evenings. It only took him a few hours a day, and she was the one to find him the job in the first place. He still didn’t have the right to treat her as less than human because he earned more than she did.

“I’m trying to get another job. You know that.” She’d been laid off from her factory job nearly a month earlier, creating more financial tension. The economy in the city had taken a downward spiral, and their fragile relationship couldn’t handle the trial.

“Who would hire you? You think any business would want a woman like you to greet customers?”

“A woman like me?”

“Look at you! Why do you think I’m hardly home anymore?”

Rachel wanted to be transported far, far away. She couldn’t take it anymore. He dismissed her with a disgusted curl of the lips before returning his attention to the television screen. Jason laughed at his program, not bothering to consider her self-esteem was crumbling down around her feet. She stood there for the longest time, knowing in her heart that this was the last week she’d put up with Jason’s garbage. There was nothing to hold on to, no spark to rekindle. It was time for her to grow a fucking backbone and take that terrifying leap into the unknown.

Chapter Two

 

After Jason left the next morning, she knew he wouldn’t be back until well after dinner hour. He was staying out longer and longer hours, and she partially suspected he had a relationship on the side. It didn’t matter. It was time for her to act.

Rachel’s heart beat like a piston, making her feel light-headed and dizzy. She grabbed her purse and rushed off to the local coffee shop, certain everyone she passed knew her intentions. As she navigated the streets she felt like a secret agent, cautious not to get caught. She chose a quiet corner table and went through the free local classified ads. Knowing she was actually going through with leaving her abusive, controlling boyfriend made her feel empowered. She actually saw a light at the end of the tunnel. She only planned to take her clothing and personal items when she left, not willing to create more waves than necessary. Her freedom was more important than monetary items. She’d finally realized that the risks she’d face did not outweigh the prospect of living even another day with Jason. But she also wasn’t naïve enough to think she could live independently without a job or place to sleep for long.

It was the reason one of the employment ads jumped out at her. She immediately circled it with her highlighter and then reread the ad several times. It was too good to be true. Or maybe everything in her life was leading her to this moment.

Iron Spur Ranch seeking experienced horse handlers and instructors. Competitive wages. Room and board included.

The ad went on to say that they were hiring immediately. There was no phone number given, only an unfamiliar address. Applicants were to apply in person. The first thought that flashed in her mind was Jason’s crude comment about no one wanting to hire her if they saw what she looked like. Although she rarely dared to weigh herself, the last time she’d checked, she was a good fifty pounds above the “recommended weight” for her height and age. A lot of that weight started to pack on when the abuse started, and then the vicious cycle took over.

If she showed up at the Iron Spur Ranch, they’d probably laugh her off the property. She stared at the ad. It was so perfect. Rachel would have a place to live while saving up for her new, independent life. After contemplating every possible scenario, it seemed the best viable option. Every other path dictated that she’d need at least first and last month’s rent before leaving, which could take forever considering the state of their finances. She couldn’t wait, wouldn’t wait.

Did she dare? What if they refused to hire her? She’d be living on the street, not a penny to her name. After nursing her extra-large coffee for over an hour, she realized living on the park bench would be preferable to another night beside Jason.
I’m going for it.

The very same day she bought a one-way bus ticket to the town of Glasburg with her small emergency fund. She’d been saving the money as her “escape fund,” but it had never managed to grow enough to be useful. Rachel left a note for Jason explaining her choices, and it was more than he deserved. If she’d been smart, she would have left ages ago. But it was never too late to start over.

The bus terminal was cold and sterile. Her thoughts wandered as she sat waiting for her bus into the unknown. Was she making the right decision? Doubts began to fester as her fears grew.

“Bags, Miss?”

She snapped out of her daydreams and turned to the voice. An older man in a navy uniform was standing near her bench. “Sorry?”

“Do you have any bags to store under the bus?”

Rachel had managed to squeeze all her clothes and belongings into two large suitcases. It was pretty sad that it was all she had to show for the past twenty-eight years.

“Yes, sir. Just these two.” She helped him wheel them to the bus. “How long is the trip to Glasburg?” she asked. Her decisions had been made so fast and under such stressful circumstances that she hadn’t been thinking straight. She’d never even heard of the town but assumed it couldn’t be too far if the ranch was advertising in the city newspaper.

“Six-hour drive. Maybe six and a half.”

Her jaw went slack. Her little venture had suddenly become so much more, taking “starting over” to the extreme. She was leaving absolutely everything behind and beginning from scratch. But that was what she wanted—a fresh start without all the old baggage. She didn’t even want to contemplate what she’d do if the Iron Spur Ranch refused her application. She had to have faith. Without enough money to buy a return ticket, she’d be forced to roam the unfamiliar town like a nomad or call her mother for help. The latter wasn’t even an option in her opinion. She refused to show her mother how rock bottom she’d hit. Her mother had been through enough, struggling to raise her without a father and often going without. The next time she called it would be to share her good news and happiness.

It was too late to turn back now. She boarded the bus and sat in a window seat near the back of the nearly empty interior. Rachel would make this work, she had to. She’d already taken the first step in improving her life, the one she should have made years ago.

Rachel stayed awake as long as she could, but the hum of the engine and endless fields of gold and green lulled her into unconsciousness. By the time she woke up, the bus had slowed down as they entered a small town. She sat up straight and ran her hands through her hair, trying to get her bearings. The world around her was new and unfamiliar.

The speaker garbled before the driver announced their arrival in Glasburg. There really wasn’t much to see—a church, a coffee shop, and a feed store amongst the few buildings. They turned at the lights, so she wasn’t able to see the other stores lining the lonely main strip. It was as if the clocks had turned back time to simpler days.

She tucked her purse closer for security and clenched the paper with the address in her other hand.
This is it.
Her plan would either succeed or fail miserably within the next couple hours. It was late in the afternoon when she finally stepped off the bus. Her body felt cramped from sitting for so long. She stretched out her legs as she took in the surroundings.

The remote bus terminal was isolated on the outskirts of the small town, nothing but fields as far as her eyes could see. Rachel didn’t think the world could be so flat, so endless. The air smelled almost sweet, not like the choking exhaust fumes that assaulted her every time she left her apartment in the city. A massive flock of birds choreographed a beautiful show, swooping low and then rising with the wind. They seemed to welcome her to this foreign place.

Now that she was here, she had no clue what to do next. Her initial goal had been achieved—she’d escaped. It felt good, a healing energy already working its way through her veins. It was time to move ahead.

She didn’t have money for a taxi, not that she expected to even find one way out here. “Excuse me,” she said to a man smoking on the platform.

The older man nodded once, a nonchalant air about him. His face was weathered, a testament to a hard life.

“I need to get to the Iron Spur Ranch. Do you know how far it is from here?” She handed him the paper with the address, but he only shook his head, refusing to even look at it.

“I know where it is.”

“Can you point me in the right direction?”

He frowned. “How do you expect to get out there by yourself, little lady? Someone picking you up?”

“No, sir. I’m applying for a job. I’ve come all the way up from the city, so I’m not familiar with the area.”

Normally she’d never accept charity or even consider getting into a car with a stranger, but her circumstances were anything but ordinary, and the old man didn’t look like a threat. When he offered to drive her out to the ranch, she graciously accepted.

The old pickup truck rumbled and jostled along the dirt back roads. She noticed how the blue sky seemed to go on forever in all directions. It was strange not having her vision obstructed by buildings, overhead wires, and smog. Her soul sighed contentedly within her as she absorbed all the natural sights.

“What position are you applying for?” asked the driver.

“Um, horse handler.”

He briefly turned to the side, tilting his Stetson up to get a good look at her. He had a scruffy graying beard and thin face. “You don’t look like any horse handler I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, I’m one of the best,” she assured, wondering what visible qualities she lacked for the position. Or did she look unfit for the job because of her extra weight? She finally concluded it must be her lack of blue jeans and flannel.

“If you say so. I know they’re itching for new staff, so they’ll be happy to have you.”

“I hope so.” She tried to speak with as much confidence as she could muster. Inside she was a gooey mess, terrified of being ousted before she even got a chance to prove herself as a dedicated worker. Rachel may be unemployed at the moment, but she wasn’t afraid of hard work. How difficult could it be to groom a horse?

Nearly twenty minutes later they drove through an elaborate iron arch with the name
Iron Spur Ranch
spelled out in dark, twisted iron letters. She felt a tingle race up her spine, an ominous feeling making her sit straighter in her seat. From what she could see, the ranch was massive. Rachel knew very little about the place, only concerned they were offering room and board with pay. As they navigated the long, winding drive, she began to recollect watching
Dallas
every Friday with her mother. It was one of her positive childhood memories, and she’d forgotten all about it until witnessing the sprawling fields, elaborate home, and countless horses grazing in the distance.

BOOK: The Private Stable [Iron Spur Ranch 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
11.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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