Page 9 of For Her


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“Excuse me?” I shoved my hands on my hips.

He chuckled, the laugh reverberating deep within his chest. “Just come on.”

Chapter 4

CASSIDY

“You sure you’ve been around cattle before?” I teased a day later as Briar quietly followed me to my house. Sweat stained her forehead and had left dirty streaks along her cheeks. Her skin was bright, sparkling in the moonlight as we made the evening trek to a bed that I was excited to crash in.

“Rude,” she grumbled, wiping her hand across the back of her neck.

“Well, you did fall off the horse and manage to separate the wrong cow-calf pair.”

“It’s a new herd and a new horse. Besides, if you were better at training, then maybe the horse wouldn’t have spooked when I threw the rope.”

“Or you could’ve asked if that horse had ever been roped off of before.”

“How inconsiderate of you to not just tell me. Why should it have been my responsibility to ask when it’s your horse?” she snapped with equal quickness, and I pulled the brim of my hat lower, hiding my smile.

She was fun. And actually a phenomenal rider. Even her work with the cattle had been great. She’d only separated the wrong pair because of my purposefully poor instructions. I was curious as to how she’d handle things when they went wrong, and she did well. She rode like she’d grown up on a horse and had no fear when it came to the herd. Her mannerisms and quick responses to everything had me fairly unconcerned about the cattle drive.

“Are you smiling?” she asked, as I pushed open the side entrance to my house. So much for getting the porch done today. “You find it funny that I messed up today!”

“It was pretty funny, I’m not gonna lie,” I answered and pulled my hat off my head.

“You are not the man that Rooney said you are,” she grumbled, following me in, and the door clicked shut behind her. I kicked my boots off to the side, hanging my hat up above the light switch on the wall of the small mudroom. The bench seat was covered with random tools that I had yet to take downstairs to finish the basement. The tile beneath my feet was covered in dirt and in need of a good cleaning, but I wasn’t concerned at this moment. The rustic color scheme of the furniture and walls held warmth as I padded past the half bath to my right and emerged in the kitchen.

“What does that mean?” I asked, flicking the light on and walking toward the butcher block island counter. Running my fingers across the surface, I paused and turned to face her. Rather curious as to what was running through her mind.

Frustration pulled her soft features taut; her cheeks flushed red. “You’re a foreman. Why would you work for your brother, for your family? You know what, why would you work for anyone else? Why aren’t you even trying to become your own man? That’s not you.”

All innocent teasing fled my veins. I don’t even know why it bit me to the core, why her questions bothered me so much, but they did.

“You have no right,” I seethed through my teeth as she marched right up to me.

“Why not?” she snapped in response. A flash of guilt washed across her face and then disappeared within a matter of seconds. My body ran warm with anger as I glared down at her.

“You don’t know me. You don’t know a single thing about me,” I hissed lowly as her chest heaved. She ran a hand across her forehead, smearing some dirt along her skin. Her eyes were dark, narrowed with both confusion and annoyance.

“Rooney had an emergency that day. A drunk driver ran through his fence, and all of his horses got loose. He got the call while he was in the middle of teaching your welding class and cut things short that day so he could run home. Sound familiar?” she began.

My brows twitched together as everything around me ran cold. I knew exactly what she was talking about, and now realized why her questioning why I worked for Weston had bothered me so much. But I held my tongue; these were thoughts and feelings that hadn’t surfaced in a long, long time.

“Anyway, Rooney says that he announced that there were at least thirty horses loose—half of which were new two-year-olds he was just starting—and could use all the help in rounding them up and making sure that none of them were hurt.” She stepped closer to me and rammed a finger into my chest. “You were the only one to show up to help. You do the right things for the people you care about without complaint. So—”

“So you know the reason that I stay as a foreman. I help those I care about and love,” I said without allowing her to finish, the heat steaming from my ears. What right did she have, even if she knew about this story?

“I’m not done! So, after—”

“Yes. You are done,” I snarled and spun around. “You got the answer to your question, Briar. Let. It. Go.”

“CASSIDY!” she yelled as I marched away. “I’m not done with the story.”

I paused but remained staring at the far wall. “I’m okay with being foreman.” I clenched my jaw, my heart pounding heavily against my ribs, and then stomped into my room. She had no idea what she was talking about. I didn’t care what type of man she thought I was.

It had been my fault.

And I would forever be indebted to repay the sacrifice that should’ve been mine. I should’ve been the one to go through everything. I wasn’t owed anything in this life because of my fear. My inability to be brave nearly destroyed someone else.

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