Tethered (A Dark Erotic Romance)(Book 2) (The Stables Trilogy) Page 7

  Clucking, Maple began to walk and Eden followed. The pony girl’s knees lifted high before she stamped down. It was an elegant, and truly equine, gait. Gripping the reins more firmly, Maple set a slow showman’s pace. Eden responded well to the gentle tugs on the reins.

  As they approached the cone, Maple held a rein in each hand. She tugged gently with just the left, turning Eden. It was a little awkward, and Eden stumbled a bit.

  The stumble woke up Maple’s worry about Bonnie. She’d been caring for the old horse long enough that she knew to listen to her gut. Her gut told her something was wrong. Visions passed by of all the times Bonnie had listened to Maple’s problems. Maple loved nothing more than when she could bury her face in the horse’s long, warm neck. Feeling the pulse of Bonnie’s heart pressed against her cheek was reassuring.

  The ranch had become a home for Maple, albeit a strange one. She managed to feel completely at ease there, like she belonged. This was due to the dependability of her schedule and taking care of the stable. Having a purpose each day and being able to see the rewards of hard work each night was validating. It helped her forget that she had made so many bad decisions. That she had blood on her hands.

  Then again, the ranch also had J.B. The torrent of lust and desire she felt for him was only made murkier by not knowing how he felt about her. He managed to bring out the things in herself she most wished to hide and make them feel, well, okay. Like the whipping, which should have been a shameful and decidedly wrong way for an employer to punish an employee.

  It had been excruciating bliss.

  Bonnie was her homing beacon. Reliable, beautiful, gentle. When Maple’s frantic mind was racing, or trying to descend into darkness, or so infatuated with J.B. that the rules he set threatened to suffocate her…

  Bonnie brought her back to herself.

  Now, though, a sharp lick of the riding crop on her arm yanked her to the present.

  “Maple, what are you doing? I said take her to a trot!” J.B. was watching her carefully, his eyebrows pressed together.

  Shifting to a jog, Maple clucked again and repeated the trip to and from the cone with Eden at a trot. To her credit, Eden managed without showing the exertion on her face. It couldn’t be easy, trotting with that silver plug settled deep inside her.

  As they tried the turn, Maple tugged too hard on the reins, jerking Eden forward. The pony girl tripped and fell to her knees, crying out.

  “Oh no! I’m so sorry!” Maple dropped to a crouch beside the girl, ready to help her up.

  “Hands off, Maple. Get up, Eden.”

  It was a struggle not to help. Because Eden’s arms were locked behind her, she had to carefully stand, her legs shaking. As the pony girl managed, Maple saw the bright red slashes on the woman’s knees.

  J.B. must have seen it, too, because his look grew decidedly stormy. “You’ve marred the stock, Maple.”

  Eden glared and stamped. It wasn’t hard to see that she was pissed off.

  Maple couldn’t blame her. The amount of money Eden had paid to be trained by J.B. was more than Maple had ever seen in her lifetime. All of this training, living as a horse, learning to serve and obey-- it was all for one goal. Being purchased. Hopefully married off, but at the very least, set for life.

  And now Maple had skinned her knees.

  “Take Eden to her stall. Undress her, clean her, and then we need to have a fucking chat.”

  Wordlessly, Maple led Eden away. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. Yet again she’d made him mad. This was becoming par for the course. Since she’d been working in the human stable, she’d been making small adjustments to how J.B. had it set up. So far he hadn’t complained about her changes. One of those was keeping a first aid kit in each pony girl’s stall. It was overkill, probably, but she felt better knowing the women had basic first aid available to them all the time.

  It took her longer to undress Eden than J.B. had taken to dress her. Her fingers fumbled as she worried about the chat with J.B. Maple doubted it would be like the “talk” in his office. Damn it, she needed to focus! He’d told her to pay attention, and instead she’d let her worry and her thoughts take her away!

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  When Eden was free from everything, including her tail, Maple brought out the first aid kit. Alcohol pads cleaned the knees, though Eden stamped once or twice in frustration and pain. Then Maple gently applied an antibiotic ointment. The tub said it helped to speed healing and minimize scarring as well. Hopefully that was the case.

  She didn’t feel connected to the pony girls the way she did to the real horses, but she didn’t want to ruin their futures either.

  After sticking band aids on Eden’s knees, she decided to take one extra moment and try to earn the pony girl’s forgiveness. She grabbed the brush that was kept with Eden’s grooming tools and began to gently brush out the long, black hair. Maple’s own mother had brushed her hair growing up, and it had been one of her nicest memories.

  Her parents weren’t big on affection. But Maple’s honey blond hair had always been one of her loveliest features, and her mother had always taken the time to help her care for it.

  Now her hand passed in long, soothing strokes down Eden’s hair. If it caught on a snag, Maple would grip the hair just above it and gently work out the knot, being careful not to tug on the woman’s scalp. When the brush could pass effortlessly through, the black hair was shining and soft, falling gently over Eden’s shoulders and back.

  Maple patted Eden’s cheek. The pony girl leaned into it.

  Forgiven.

  Now it was time to face J.B. He was sitting at the desk he kept in the stable. Standing behind him, she waited.

  And he didn’t hesitate to make her wait. For a long time she stood silently, watching him read through papers and jot down notes. Finally, when her feet felt like she was hovering on pins from inactivity, he turned his attention to her. “What’s going on tonight?”

  Her eyes opened wide. She’d expected him to launch into her. Berate her in front of all the pony girls. Scold her and humiliate her.

  Normally, she’d want that. The sick part of her that enjoyed being shamed would be shouting for joy. But this time her screw ups weren’t because she felt defiant or wanted to provoke him. They was because she was worried.

  “I don’t think Bonnie is feeling well.” Her voice cracked as she said it. Her throat was tight, trying to hold the tears in.

  He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Why do you think that?”

  “I took her on a small ride with Raúl, and she stumbled. When I took her in for the night it just felt… different.”

  “She’s old, maybe she just can’t be ridden anymore.”

  Maple sighed. He was saying all the things she’d been telling herself to make it better. It didn’t feel better. “I know. It just feels like maybe there’s more to it.” It sounded dumb as she said it. Maple couldn’t help feeling young and scared. In need of a hug and someone to say it would be okay.

  She was talking to the wrong person for that.

  “Okay. I reckon I better get a vet out here, then.”

  She nodded, unable to speak. J.B. was listening to her. It was all she could ask for, really. The aching need for comfort would just have to be found elsewhere.

  “Finish up here, tonight. We’ve got the auction in a couple of days.”

  This startled her. “So soon?”

  “Yep. The ponies are as ready as they’ll ever be. It’s you who needs training now.”

  Despite all her worries, this elicited a shudder. “W-what do you mean?”

  “I mean I need you to learn how to dress them quick and walk them around so they look good. The buyers who come look at the merchandise at all times, Maple, not just when I’m showing them. So you’ll need to learn quick, because I’ll be counting on you.”

  “I pick up things fast,” she said, hoping to reassure him. When he’d praised her for being comfortable in the stable it had plea
sed her. She wanted him to trust her with this, too.

  The look on his face said otherwise. “You don’t think I’ll learn it on time?”

  “No, I do--” he frowned, choosing his words. “But I don’t trust you right now.”

  “Why?” Maple didn’t mean to question it-- the thought of being with J.B. was enticing enough, and Lord knew she was curious about the auction. But this was a part of his business J.B. guarded intensely. The fact that he shared this business with her was startling enough. When he’d told her she’d be coming, it had been a shock. Now it felt as if he was doubting that decision.

  The corners of his mouth tugged down. She thought maybe she knew.

  “Because of Bane?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Because I don’t obey orders,” she expanded, sounding defeated.

  Of course. As she said it, she could feel the strokes of the switch again. Hear the song of it as it whistled through the air before cracking onto her soft flesh.

  “Finish up here,” was all he said before getting up and walking out of the barn.

  Which of course left her too much time as she worked to think about the auction, the pony girls, J.B. and all his frustratingly sealed layers, and of course…

  She worried about Bonnie.

  Maple was in the stable when the vet showed up.

  She tried to pay attention to her job. Mucking wasn’t mentally demanding, but it was a lot of work physically. In her months in the stable, particularly since healing from the rattlesnake bite, she’d been getting stronger.

  Her shoulders had more definition, and she could fit two fingers into the gap between her waist and the waist of her jeans. Her hips, though, were another story. Apparently working hard made her hips and ass grow, muscled as well as curved.

  Great.

  The new muscles made working a little smoother, but not easier. Especially when she was switching out the horses’ beds. She shoveled large pitchforks of dirty hay into her wheelbarrow, and struggled to listen to the vet and J.B. in the other stall.

  All she heard were the low muffled tones of the vet and J.B.’s Marlboro Man rasp.

  She was finishing up Mesa’s stall when J.B. came in behind her.

  “Whelp,” he said as he grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow to push it out for her. “You were right to say somethin’.”

  She was hovering now on the edge of being crushed. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s dyin’, Maple. Old age.”

  It truly shouldn’t have been a surprise. Bonnie had been old when she started. What did Maple think all the rides were going to do to that tired, loving horse?

  J.B.’s hand gripped her shoulder. Warmth from his palm warmed bones that felt hollow. It grounded her.

  She hadn’t even been aware of how numb she was.

  “I can already see you doing it, Maple. Stop.” His mouth was a thin line.

  “Doing what?”

  “Blaming yourself.”

  “I’m not--” She knew she shouldn’t be. It wasn’t like she had control over time. Aging was going to happen whether Maple wished it to or not. Knowing that he was right didn’t ease the onslaught of anger she felt at herself. “I’m not.” She was, but she didn’t want to talk about it.

  His face softened. “Tell me what you need.” It was a command. Even in this, J.B. didn’t know how to offer his help.

  “Nothing, I’m fine.”

  “Look, here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re going to keep workin’ this stable. Don’t worry about the other one.”

  “But--”

  “Don’t argue, Maple.” A hint of threat. She clamped her mouth shut. “Look, we’ll do a crash course if we need to. But I want you here, with Bonnie.”

  It was a gift, and she knew it. Maple didn’t get many gifts. Certainly not a gesture like this. She tried not to think too much on what it meant.

  All her brain wanted to do was dissect it.

  “But-- and this is important, Maple -- when it looks like Bonnie’s on her way out, move her out to pasture.”

  Wait, what? Her face scrunched. “It’s winter, J.B., I thought ‘put to pasture’ was just a phrase.”

  “It’s a phrase rooted in practicality, Maple. Have you ever seen anything die?”

  He obviously meant animals. It didn’t stop her eyes from flaring wide. The man’s face flashed through her thoughts. The blood that trickled from his mouth and nose. The awful, wet sound of his breathing. She’d seen someone on the way to death.

  For having grown up on a ranch, though, Maple was oddly sheltered when it came to the animals dying. Her father wasn’t set up for slaughter; he sold his steer live. On the off chance that one got sick or old before they were sold off, he’d depart with a shotgun and call a local company to pick up the body.

  “I’ve never seen a horse die,” she whispered. Maple couldn’t look J.B. in the eye. Loss had started as a seed deep within her, but now it was blooming.

  “Well, most likely Bonnie’ll just go off in her sleep. But she’ll need to be out of the stable when it happens. Now, go and grab some blankets and whatever you need to stay out here. Because I reckon that’s what you wanna do. Get set up with Bonnie, and I’ll have Mariela bring you out something hot to eat.”

  It sounded like kindness. The words were there. The comforting hand on her shoulder. J.B. was trying to be kind to her. But Maple was angry at him for not caring about Bonnie, and that made it much easier to suppress the grief she was feeling.

  Take her outside? Make her die on the frosted ground? Didn’t he understand how devoted this creature had been to him? Bonnie had been a good horse. Tim had told Maple about Bonnie in her hay days. Tireless. Strong.

  And J.B. wanted Maple to leave her in the cold to die.

  Maple nodded. She couldn’t speak to him, not now. J.B. wasn’t the kind of man you scolded or tried to shame. And she was on thin ice, anyway.

  In her room, she gathered blankets and pulled on her coat. She picked up her book. Her fingers went absentmindedly to her neck, seeking the comfort of the lost pearl necklace.

  The stable was empty by the time she returned. J.B. had sent the vet away, and life on the ranch was back to normal. Maple wasn’t naive about these things; she knew that the world had to keep spinning no matter what. But as she entered Bonnie’s stall and began to pet her friend, she couldn’t help but be angry about that, too.

  There should be pause for kindness.

  It was quiet as time passed in the stable. Admittedly, it was boring, too. Waiting for something to die wasn’t exactly on anyone’s bucket list.

  Maple kept busy by giving each horse (except Bane) a thorough grooming. She braided their manes and tails. It looked silly on Red and Justice, who acted so fiercely proud and defiantly male. But Mesa took to it well and looked quite stately. Bonnie, of course, would always be beautiful in Maple’s eyes.

  Poor Bane only got an apple here and there.

  There were so many twisted parts of J.B. that Maple was drawn to. His art, for one. His tight, grim face and gruff voice. The way he hurt her in the most delicious ways when he finally lost control. But this… the apparent disregard for these amazing animals? That pissed her off.

  She shouldn’t have been punished for grooming Bane. Damn him, he didn’t even say anything about the fact that she’d been able to! Bane had let her in the stall. He’d let her brush him and touch his hooves! Bane was so clearly not a menace.

  The fight between them that circled around Bane couldn’t go on much longer. Between that beautiful, black horse being kept locked up and demanding that Bonnie die cold and outdoors, Maple wasn’t sure if all the other things that attracted her to J.B.were enough.

  She thought about that girl in the restroom at the BDSM club. How, no matter how badly the man hurt her, she was willing to crawl back. Maple had been like that with Tony. Willing to overlook the worst character flaws just for another hit. Another orgasm. The hope for some kindness.

&
nbsp; Was she reliving that with J.B.?

  So many signs were there. Her sick need to please him, no matter what. How his cruelty upped her anticipation and pleasure. How she looked the other way when he touched other women. Or treated the horses badly.

  Maple seemed willing to forgive him anything if he’d just keep her near. On the off chance that something amazing, like the whipping in his office, would happen again.

  Nighttime was coming. Mariela came out with soup. It was in a large glass tupperware, still warm and steaming. It had hominy in it, and pork. The lime and garlic infused broth was fresh and burned as she sipped it from the glass.