Embracing Today, a firefighter romance: (The Trading Yesterday Series, #3) - Kahlen Aymes (old books to read .TXT) 📗

I’d rolled my eyes. “Very, but we can breed Siri with Renegade again and then we’ll have another foal like Dark.” From my point of view the solution was simple.

Dark was beautiful, no question, but an intact stallion was asking for trouble. Right now, the only intact male we had other than Dark was his sire, Renegade, and Uncle Leonard only agreed to board him in exchange for breeding Siri. Other than that, we had a rule: only geldings.

After a little more ranch experience, Ben would change his mind on such things. In the wild only one stallion would be found with a herd, and the younger males leave or are forced out when they come of age. The last thing we needed was a fight between stallions.

I wanted to start saddle training Dark around twenty months, but left intact he’d be harder to train, and we had to keep him separated from the mares when they were in heat. So far, Ben had won the argument because we could separate the males from the females into separate pastures, and currently, Dark was more like a pet dog, but once he grew up, he’d have to be separated from the females and from his sire, and I didn’t want that lonely life for Siri’s baby boy.

In fact, we were already planning on breeding Siri one more time so that Remi and Dylan could witness the birthing, but after that, I was considering asking Renegade’s owner to find him other accommodations or have him neutered as well. It would be safer and better for all of the horses, including Renegade, because he wouldn’t have to be separated so much. I felt bad for him and I totally understood Uncle Leonard’s rules. After the business took off, keeping track of which mares needed to be separated from him would get to be too much work due to fluctuating cycles of the females unless we just kept him alone constantly and the thought made me sad.

The new entrance on the north side of the property was almost two miles from the house. Siri could have made it in 15 minutes, but I was using one of the trails and staying off of the road. We switched off between a slow walk and a slow trot. I could sense she wanted to break into a run through some of the fields, but the unevenness of many of the surfaces and possible holes from rabbits or ground hogs meant I couldn’t allow her free reign; she might fall into one and break a leg. I kept her to the trails, just to be safe.

Ben’s truck finally came into view along with one other big red crew cab truck. Ben, Davis, Mark, and Jake were on scene helping to build a duplicate of the archway they’d already finished on the south side. From the looks of it they were just about finished. They’d made a makeshift scaffolding from the roofs of the two truck cabs, a couple of boards and blankets beneath them to keep from scratching the paint on Davis’s new truck.

Jake and Mark were in the bed of Ben’s truck handing up the wooden arch complete with the ranch name carved into it. Ben had darkened the lettering with the skillful use of a blowtorch and then sealed it with clear resin to weather-proof it. The effect was rustic and charming. We had similar plaques made for each one of the cabins which had been named for a different breed of horse, the brilliant concoction of Remi and Dylan.

“There she is!” Ben called from his perch atop the truck bridge. “Be down in a minute, babe.”

I watched as first Ben, then Davis, took nails from the carpenter aprons they wore and then hammered them in at several places: one side at a time. Jake and Mark stood back and instructed them on adjustments up or down so that both sides were level.

The sign was heavy, and Ben’s muscles were bulging with the effort and his skin slick with the sheen of perspiration. Davis was also shirtless and built, but Ben was the focus of my admiration.

“I brought lemonade and cookies!” I called.

Mark and Jake jumped down and approached Siri’s flank. I lifted the saddle bags from their position in front of the saddle and handed it over.

Jake took it, lifting one of the flaps pulling and out the Zip-lock bag filled with cookies then handed the leather saddle bags over to Mark. It wasn’t long before he had removed the large thermos and a stack of red plastic cups. He lined up four cups on the back of Ben’s open tail gate and filled them all, downing his before refilling it.

“What do you think?” Ben asked. He had on a billed hat from the farmer’s co-op, his hair longish on the sides and back sticking out beneath it. I couldn’t help thinking that my Uncle Leonard would approve. My lips lifted in the start of smile.

He hopped down and walked forward to lay a hand on my thigh. To avoid saddle burn, I never rode horses in shorts, but Ben gave my flesh a squeeze through the denim of my jeans. His face and bare torso were tanned from hours in the sun building fences over the past couple of weeks. He smiled up at me and I covered his hand with my own. “I think it looks incredible.”

“Just in time for the grand opening, right?” Mark asked, reaching for a cookie from the bag that Jake still kept as if it were his, and his alone. “Give me one of those.”

Jake finally offered the bag.

“Yes. Tomorrow night. I can hardly believe it’s here.”

“Are you nervous?” Davis asked, finally jumping down to join the other men. Within seconds both he and Ben were downing a full glass of lemonade.

“Not really. I was worried people wouldn’t attend, but we’ve had a lot of RSVPs and it’s open to the public. We