She smiled at me. This time it reached glassy eyes. “Thank you.”
Chapter Nineteen
We reached the two grazing cattle, both fat with calf, and began to lead them toward the five on the east side of the lake. Cricket and I tried to continue our conversation, but the heifers made it impossible—one or both of them getting skittish and trying to flee into the woods. It was hard to guide our horses, let alone the cows through the trees.
It took almost an hour just to reach the five on the east bank. We sat there with all seven for a moment to catch our breath.
“We’ve got to keep them out of the woods,” she said. “I want you to keep the rear here and prevent them from turning around. I’ll flank their left and prevent them from scaring off. We’ll use the lake to our advantage. They’ll avoid the deeper water.”
I nodded.
My job was fairly easy, pulling left or right to prevent them from turning but Cricket? Cricket was like flipping Houdini. One second she was casually setting a single heifer back into line, the next she was corralling all seven with what seemed like a single surge of her horse. Every single movement was calculated with not a single waste of energy, and she did it all flawlessly. She made it look effortless, when I know for a fact it was an orchestrated and anticipated dance. She was incredible. She was impressive. She was undeniably the most fascinating creature I’d ever known.
When we drew close to the herd, Cricket ran the strays toward the mass, and they seemed happy to be back. She turned around and met me.
“Is that Emmett on a horse?” I asked.
“Yeah, he always helps with the drives. No one save for Jonah has his instincts, and Jonah’s are premature. He can practically draw out the herd’s reactions on a piece of paper before we even set out.”
and Cricket came to stand in front of my stall with their horses.
“Ready?” Ethan asked me.
I nodded.
Everyone mounted their horses and I followed suit, a little bit nervous, and very unaware of what I was supposed to do. I had that same sensation you get when you were new to a school and had no idea who anyone was in your lunch period. You’d take your lunch tray and sort of stand around for a moment looking for a good spot to take a seat, but the entire time you’re searching, all you can feel is everyone’s eyes on you. That’s a shitty feeling.
I sat there on my horse, completely clueless as to who I was supposed to follow. I heard a whistle to my left. It was Cricket.
“Yo, greenhorn, you’re with me today.”
My heart kicked into high gear. I trotted my horse to side by hers, relieved beyond belief. Not because it was Cricket. Because I had a destination. Yeah, that’s it. “What are we doing?” I asked her beautiful face, unable to keep myself from staring.
“We’re going to count head, get a reading on any stragglers in my section, direct them toward the herd again. We’re bringing the entire herd in closer to the ranch.”
“What for?”
“It makes it easier for us to prepare and react to births. We can keep a close eye on them.” She turned away from me. “Eugie, come.”
That old, cantankerous shepherd mix followed behind her.
We started for the pasture. The leather creaked and pulled beneath me. My horse’s tail swished back and forth, its breath fogged the air in front of me. It was freezing out, but I felt comfortable enough thanks to Cricket’s suggestions at the outfitters.
I followed her for a good fifteen minutes, mesmerized by her backside. She was so easy on a horse, not a single movement felt superfluous. She was born to be on that horse.
We were quiet, neither one of us knowing what to say to the other. It was awkward, yet I couldn’t complain, not with the view it afforded me.
Finally, we reached our destination, a rise near the base of Bitterroot Mountain, above Lake Gossamer. We emerged between a wide copse of trees dusted with snow and I took in the sight before me. My senses felt overwhelmed, blasted with an intense beauty. The lake was so blue it didn’t look natural and was so clear you could see all the way to the bottom. It was flanked by two sharp, rocky cliff sides that eventually graduated to peak after peak—a sea of daunting yet beautiful mountains. At the base stood hundred-foot pine trees. They littered the shoreline save for ten feet of varying gray rock peppered with a few red, yellow and green ones, smoothed by thousands of years’ worth of running water. Round and perfect, I absently noted that my mother would have paid tens of thousands for them to line her drive.
“Yes,” I said.
“I-I didn’t say anything,” Cricket responded, furrowing her brows in confusion.
“Yes, this is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been to. You were going to ask that, weren’t you? How could you not?” I gestured to the nature surrounding us. My gloved hand creaked against the leather as I laid it back on the saddle’s horn.
“Undeniably beautiful,” she conceded as I stared at her. No argument there.
I continued to stare at her and my gut began to ache again. All I could think was the scene, the moment, would have made for the perfect first kiss. And my God did I want to kiss her. My eyes drifted to her lips and she licked them, sending me spiraling.