First Chapter: Underdog
Ty
“I think that’s enough for the day.” I leaned forward in the saddle and scratched Prince’s sweaty neck. “Let’s cool you down, and then you can go roll in the mud.”
Prince probably didn’t understand a word I was saying, but he understood scritches, and he leaned into them. In the mirror above the arena wall, I caught sight of him contorting his upper lip as he bobbed his head, and I chuckled. The kids at the barn all adored him, both because he was a giant puppy and because no other horse made faces like he did when he was getting scritches.
I chuckled, patted the spot I’d been scratching, and steered him with my legs toward the arena gate. He plodded along with his head down, same way he always did when we were done and he was stretching his neck. Not that I’d worked him very hard. It was, after all, the off season. Prince had come back from the Morgan Grand National and World Championship a week ago with a whole stack of titles in dressage, carriage driving, and sport horse in-hand—he’d earned himself some downtime. So right now, I wasn’t working him hard, just enough to keep him conditioned. We’d mostly been trail-riding since we’d come home; today was the first time he’d seen the inside of an arena since his last victory pass at Nationals.
At the gate, I leaned down to open the latch. We stepped through, and Prince waited patiently while I secured the gate again. Then we headed out to wander the property while he cooled down from his workout.
As he strolled along the dirt road beside the parking lot, I let the reins rest in front of the saddle. I reached up to rub some stiffness out of my neck as I exhaled a cloud into the crisp late October afternoon. I should’ve been relaxing as much as I relaxed my horses this time of year, but I was restless and twitchy.
I’d never been fond of those weeks when fall started leaning into winter. The cold didn’t bother me, but late October and early November meant my whole world went quiet. The afternoon was brisk in that way that meant winter wasn’t far off. The brightly colored leaves that drew leaf peepers in early autumn had long since dulled and dropped to the feet of bare-branched trees, giving the landscape a bleak, skeletal appearance. The competition season was over, ending in a flurry of colorful ribbons and rose blankets and spotlights around the same time the Vermont leaves went brown. The year’s frenetic pace came to a head at Nationals, and when that was over, the lights went down and didn’t come back up until spring.
Riding between the leafless trees that lined my muddy driveway, I itched for the arrival of spring. I longed for the excitement of new babies—I had six mares in foal this season—and the anticipation of week after week of competitions. It was all stress and chaos and noise, and I loved it, especially after the dark, dull months of winter.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if it wasn’t such an abrupt shift. If the show season faded out instead of being over the instant the last world champion of the year exited the coliseum after their victory pass. It was like leaving after a rock concert, except the concert lasted most of the year and there was nothing left to do but slog home from Oklahoma City and wait for the next show that was months away.
Or maybe I just needed to find something to do during the off season. This job occupied most of my time and energy, but the load was always lighter this time of year. We eased horses into less intense conditioning and training regimens so they wouldn’t overheat in the bitter cold. Some of my students took the winter off, so I gave fewer lessons.
On the other hand, a lot of my farmhands and grooms were college kids who left after Nationals, and I’d just lost three of my regular farmhands. One had just graduated college and taken a job I couldn’t compete with; one had been advised by his doctor to find a less physical job before his back gave out; and the third was moving to Montpelier to help care for his ailing grandmother. I didn’t blame them. If anything, I was just grateful they’d all hung on as best they could until Nationals was over.
They were gone now, though, along with the seasonal workers, and all of that meant there were fewer people to get things done. There was plenty that needed to be done, too—maintenance on the fences and buildings, clearing snow once it came, things like that. On the other hand, my brother and I weren’t gone for days at a time like we were the rest of the year, so we could get it all done and still have downtime.
Question was, how to fill that downtime?
As if I didn’t know. I asked myself that question every year, and the answer was always the same: dust off the Tinder profile, and—
Prince’s head snapped up, and he halted abruptly. Ears pricked forward, he fixed his attention on something in one of the pastures beside the driveway.
I thought it might be one of the mares—none of them were in season right now, but Prince was ever the ladies’ man who never missed an opportunity to look.
I followed his gaze, and…no. Not mares.
“Really?” I muttered as I watched the two muddy dogs galloping across the pasture. “Again?”
They were heading for the barn, which was no surprise. That was where the people were, and this pair was nothing if not friendly.
Rolling my eyes, I gathered my reins and turned Prince back toward the barn. With a gentle tap of my heel, I cued him into a light trot, and we reached the barn about thirty seconds after the dogs disappeared through the open door. Some voices filtered out, and there was a friendly woof.
I brought Prince to a halt and dismounted. Before I’d even started into the barn, though, my brother emerged, holding one dog by the collar while the other trotted happily behind.
“Think they want lessons?” Caden asked dryly.
“Probably.” I held out my hand for the second dog, who came up to me with no hesitation, tongue hanging out and tail wagging furiously. “Can you grab me a couple of lead ropes? I’ll take them home.”
Caden nodded. He let go of the dog, who didn’t go anywhere. Instead, it came closer and sniffed noses with Prince, who was fascinated by the pair.
I let the three of them get acquainted. The dogs—a yellow Lab and an Aussie Shepherd—had gotten loose several times in the last week or two, and they’d never been aggressive or unfriendly to people or to the horses. And Prince… Well. He really was convinced he was a dog sometimes, and he didn’t mind the Lab licking his face. I just chuckled. Good thing that was an old bridle and not a pristine piece of show tack.
Caden returned a moment later with a pair of lead ropes. We clipped them to the dogs’ collars, and they both wagged their tails even faster, as if they were thrilled at the prospect of going for a walk.
Gesturing at Prince, Caden asked, “You want me to take him while you deal with them?”
“Nah.” I held the reins in one hand and took the lead ropes in the other. “I’m just cooling him down. The walk will do him good.”
Caden shrugged. “Your call.”
He went back inside, and I headed down the driveway with my stallion plodding along on my right and the pair of escapees straining at the leads on my left. Prince, who was one of the most well-behaved horses I’d ever had, tried to trot after them.
“No.” I gently tugged his reins. “Walk.”
He tried again, tossing his head when I rudely refused to let him play with the other dogs.
“Just walk,” I laughed. He snorted indignantly and danced to one side.
Of course, the dogs took notice and decided he wanted to play, which he did. They just weren’t aware that he was several times larger than they were, and that his “paws” would probably hurt if they landed on one of theirs. And that was to say nothing of the lead ropes, which threatened to trip me.
“Oh my God.” I groaned as I tugged them away and nudged Prince with my elbow. “Really, dude? Really?”
Yes, really. He simply did not understand that he was a horse, they were dogs, and this was not recess, and when exactly had this become my life?
Fortunately, this quite literal dog-and-pony show only lasted for a few minutes. The pups belonged to Second Chances Animal Sanctuary, which was two driveways over from mine, and one of the owners was hurrying up their driveway as I was coming down the road.
“Oh, thank you.” Jon, the older half of the couple who ran the shelter, halted in front of me, looking equal parts exasperated, relieved, and sheepish. “Sorry they came to your place again. These two, I swear.”
I laughed. “Eh. I’d be worried if they were aggressive, but they’re—” I stumbled a step as Prince nudged me with his head so he could get the attention of his excited new friends, who were currently ignoring him and trying to jump on Jon, muddy paws and all.
“Blaine. Houdini.” Jon motioned downward with his hand. “Sit.”
The Lab sat. The Aussie Shepherd…did not.
“Blaine and Houdini, huh?” I cocked a brow. “So this isn’t new for them?”
“Ugh. No.” He took the lead ropes from me, and as I walked Prince in a circle to give the dogs some space, Jon added, “We’ve been trying like hell to keep them contained, but they can escape anything shy of Fort Knox.”
“Oh, I know how that goes.” I patted Prince’s shoulder emphatically. “This one has let himself out at shows like half a dozen times.”
Jon laughed. “They’re smarter than people give them credit for, aren’t they?”
“Uh-huh.” I gestured at the dogs. “If you need help containing them, I’ve been building shit to keep escape artists on lockdown since I was a kid.”
Jon’s forehead creased. “Yeah? My crew and I are pretty good with building enclosures, but we’re still kind of new at all of this. We could use all the help we can get for this pair.”
“Sure.” I smiled. “Fall and winter are pretty quiet for me, so just let me know.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks. We can—oh, hey! Landon!” Jon looked past me and motioned toward the dogs. “Could you take them back in?”
I turned, and whatever the guy said in response—an affirmative, I assumed—didn’t even register.
Because holy. Shit.
Across the road with a couple of leashes in his hand was a walking, talking version of Ty’s Hot Guy Checklist.
A crooked smile on full lips. Windswept hair that had probably been near-black at one time but was mostly gray now. Gorgeous dark eyes. The weather was cold, but he’d tied his flannel shirt around his waist, leaving on only a blue T-shirt stretched across a lean but powerful-looking torso, and his short sleeves revealed ink. So much intricately detailed and colorful ink. His right arm was tattooed all the way to the wrist, and the upper left was covered with what looked like a half-sleeve.
Seriously: holy shit. I had a thing for the tatted-up bad boy look, and this guy…goddamn.
Oblivious to me, he crouched and chuckled as he said to the dogs, “There you are, you idiots!”
They immediately tried to bowl him over, and the way he laughed as he petted them and tried in vain to avoid getting licked…oh, God. He was striking anyway, but he was also a sucker for animals? Be still, my heart. And the way his face lit up like that, especially against the colorless mid-autumn landscape—oh, yeah, it was definitely time to dust off ye olde Tinder profile, because he was stirring up a hunger I was always too busy to notice during show season.
Jon and the tattooed guy—Landon, wasn’t it?—clipped the leashes to the dogs’ collars, and then Jon handed me back my lead ropes. “Thanks again for catching them,” he said sheepishly. “And for offering to help us keep them contained. We’ll definitely be taking you up on that.”
“Don’t mention it.” I coiled the ropes and hung them on the saddle horn. “Just shoot me a text when you want to work on those enclosures—I’m around all the time, so unless I’m giving a lesson or something…”
“Great. Thanks.”
“Oh, he’s going to help us?” Landon rose, keeping the leashes in one hand as he dusted off his pants with the other. “That’ll be great. Then we won’t have to chase them down in the snow.”
Jon laughed. “Yeah, let’s hope. By the way, Landon, this is Ty. He owns Lost Acres Farm.” Jon gestured toward my driveway, then said to me, “Ty, this is Landon.”
I’d already heard him say the guy’s name, but my brain had been short-circuiting so badly, it took a second to connect some dots. Oh, this was Landon? The guy both Jon and his husband had been raving about recently for being a hard worker and great with the animals? They just hadn’t mentioned the part where he was holy shit hot.
Unaware of my brain skidding to a halt, Landon moved the leashes to the hand with mud on it, and he extended the other. “Good to meet you.”
“Yeah. You too.” I kind of regretted wearing gloves today, but maybe it was a good thing. Just meeting his eyes screwed with my ability to form words. Actually feeling the warmth of his skin wouldn’t help.
Landon gestured past me. “This guy’s gorgeous.”
I looked, having nearly forgotten that my horse was still standing beside me. “Oh. Thanks. This is Prince.” I patted the stallion’s neck. “I was just cooling him down when these two showed up.”
Landon held out his hand for Prince to sniff.
“Careful,” I said. “He won’t bite, but he will—”
Prince slurped Landon’s palm.
“—lick.”
Chuckling, Landon wiped his hand on his jeans again, then petted Prince’s face. “That’s okay. I work around dogs most days, so…” He half-shrugged, still petting Prince and watching him as if he were absolutely mesmerized. That wasn’t an unusual reaction—Prince was a stunning animal, even when he wasn’t polished up for the show ring—but something about the way Landon gazed at him melted my heart.
He’d been sweet and playful with the dogs. He clearly adored horses.
Because that wasn’t the quickest way for a man to win me over.
Not that I was interested in anything beyond hooking up with anyone, but even my resistance to relationships didn’t stop me from getting a little fluttery in the chest at the same time I was getting weak in the knees. A guy who had the tatted-up bad boy thing going and was good with animals? Yeah, that was hard for even me to resist.
He also works for the neighbor, doesn’t know you from Adam, and is probably straight. Get a grip.
“I should, um…” I gestured over my shoulder. “I need to put this guy away and… Anyway.” I cleared my throat. “Hit me up about the enclosure.”
“Will do.” Jon extended his hand. “We’ll talk soon. And thanks again.”
“Any time.” I shook his hand. Then Landon’s again. And…
Fuck.
A guy this hot? Working right down the street from my house? I was so screwed. Or, well, I needed to be screwed. Ideally sooner than later.
We said goodbye to the various animals, and I put Prince’s reins over his neck so I could get on. I put my foot in the stirrup and started to pull myself up. Naturally, I picked that moment to steal a glance at Landon, who was heading toward the driveway, and even with his shirt tied around his waist, he was still sexy as hell from the back.
“Shit!” I grabbed the saddle horn as my balance wavered, and I just managed to regain my dignity enough to get into the saddle without falling on my ass. That was all dumb luck and muscle memory from years of getting on and off squirrely youngsters. Otherwise, I’d have absolutely fallen flat in the mud right there in front of my neighbor, his ridiculously hot employee, and my very judgy horse.
“You all right?” Jon asked with a grin that suggested he knew only my pride had taken a hit.
“I’m good.” I gathered the reins. “See you two later.”
I steered Prince back toward the farm.
Stole another glance at Landon.
And absolutely busted him watching me.
No. No, he was admiring my horse. He was not interested in me. He was not interested in men. He just appreciated an exquisite animal like Prince. That was all.
I told myself that all the way home, because otherwise I’d never be able to walk, never mind ride, again.