Chapter Twelve. Case

I finish my workout with Brody early the next morning, just as the sun is fully coming up. Instead of heading inside to shower off, I make my way to the fence, climbing up on the bottom rung and slinging a leg over to sit on the top.

"Hello, Charles," I drawl, taking in the nearly two-thousand-pound longhorn bull that belongs to my father. He's a killer. Absolutely. His horns span at least six feet across and curl up to sharp points. These days, Charles is more of a show bull than anything else. My dad studs him out and moves him with the herd, so he's rarely this close to the barn and the tourists, but he's on rotation this week.

And so, as with every morning, I've sat out here and watched him. Walker's list said Conquer a bull OUTSIDE the arena, and I know Charles is the bull he meant. He always wanted to fuck around and try to get on the old crank's back, but I wouldn't let him. Told him he didn't have a death wish. And I don't either, but after defaulting on the ride the other night, I feel like I owe him this one. It's not a buckle, but it's something.

I just haven't figured out how to make it happen without dying.

Even if I didn't have Ghost Walker and his list of bullshit tasks pushing me to be a better human (that's the result, whether he planned it or not), Winnie Sutton's dirty looks would be motivation. Is this why he wanted me to be friends with her? Because he knew she would make me feel useless and lazy by comparison? Did he know how fucked up her home situation was all along? That the more I got to know her, the more I'd feel like a waste of time?

(Unrelated: I asked a confused Kerry to teach me how to do laundry, and I've only turned half of my clothes light blue, so I guess it's going fine.)

I don't think that was it. Walker was loyal. He always saw the best of me. It's more likely he knew she needed a friend, too. I lost my best friend, but she doesn't have one either.

Unless you count Mab. Which, I guess after seeing them together, I do. By my calculations, I only have to be more useful than a horse and I'm in, which is not as easy as one might presume.

The only problem with this arrangement is the small matter of my attraction to her. Because let's face it, Winnie Sutton is beautiful. Toned legs for days, soft hair falling to the middle of her slender back, freckles painted across her cheekbones. Dark, arresting eyes and a sexy smile. Obviously, she's not interested in me in the slightest. She doesn't have the time to be interested, and even if she did, I doubt I'm her type: useless, more money than I need, spends my free time arguing with the ghost of my dead best friend.

So that's not a thing. We're not a thing. Which is freeing, because it allows me to concentrate on being a good friend to her. Or, at least, to convince her to be my friend. Or to convince her to want a friend in the first place, useless as I may seem. But if I'm ever presented with the option of being a friend who also gets to kiss her, I absolutely volunteer.

I'd even throw away my pigheaded one-time-only rule for her.

(Okay, okay, fine, I'll throw it away, anyway.)

Winnie Sutton makes me want to be better. Not to deserve her or anything so angsty as that. Just, I want to be okay again. Whole. Productive.

For now, I'd settle for not actively wasting away.

I've been getting up even earlier every morning and meeting Brody in the barn at 6:00 a.m. for training. This serves a twofold purpose: 1) It gives Brody time to train with me, side by side, before he has to go home to clean up for work. 2) It allows me to get my training out of the way earlier so I can help Winnie in the stables.

Even if, as my dad pointed out, it's not my job and I'm not getting paid. Well, not any more than my already generous monthly allowance, anyway. I'm not telling Winnie that, though. I don't want her to get the wrong idea and assume I'm doing this to be closer to her.

Because that's only some of the truth, and I also don't want to give my dad any reason to think I'm suddenly interested in ranching after all this time.

I'm well aware that to Junior, a future in the Pbr would make it okay for me to not ranch. Gold buckles and riding bulls and drinking my grief away and rubbing some dirt on it… those are all acceptable. Those are being a man. If I won't run livestock because I'm too busy making a name for myself mastering the circuit?

Well, fuck yeah, that's the cowboy way.

I raise my protein shake to my lips, finishing it in one long gulp and grimacing at the chalky dregs at the bottom of the bottle. Charles's tail flicks irritably, knowing I'm watching him again. I run the scenario in my head: waiting for him to come close to the fence, maybe even luring him over with some fresh grass, and then at the last second, jumping the top rung and launching myself onto his back. I'd need a rope. Something to loop around his neck, in a tight slipknot, and use it to hold on.

The thought makes my stomach compress and my palms sweat, adrenaline coursing through my veins at the mere thought. The timing would have to be perfect. The coast clear. My hands steady.

Not today, then. I head to the house and get in the shower. Tomorrow, I'll try again.

After my shower and a quick breakfast of eggs and bacon, I spot a dust cloud coming down the long drive through the window. Winnie's here. I rinse my glass out in the sink and press a kiss to Kerry's cheek. "I'm off to the stables. Thanks for breakfast."

Kerry huffs. "Hold your horses. I made you something."

"You did?"

"I made it for you to share with Winnie. It's cold out there this morning."

I raise my eyebrows, my expression bland. "Yeah, I know. I was out there for two hours already."

She waves me off, reaching into the pantry and passing me a delicious-smelling basket. I have no idea where it came from. It's like one of those picnic baskets Dorothy carried in The Wizard of Oz. The kind with the flaps that open and shut on top? There's no way Case Jr. had one of those lying around. "Lemon poppy seed. Winnie's favorite."

I blink. "How'd you know?"

She clicks her tongue. "The girl's worked here for two years, Case. You're the only one who seems to have missed it."

Seriously.

I take the basket and rush out the door, crossing to where Winnie's parked. I'm surprised to see doors on both sides of the car open and also Garrett's happy wave as she steps out from the passenger side. Something about her immediate acceptance of me, even after I let her down at the rodeo, gives me a sharp pang in the center of my chest.

"Hi, Case!"

"Hey, it's Little Sutton! Skipping school?"

Winnie gives a frustrated grunt as she slams her door behind her with her hip. "Apparently, it's a teachers' planning day."

Another one?I turn to Garrett. "So they plan, and you get to come hang out with us?"

"Something like that," Winnie mutters, even though I wasn't asking her. Before I can respond, offer a muffin, or anything, she's already storming off to the stables.

"Jesse never came home last night." Garrett lags behind to update me. "So Winnie drew the short straw."

Her honesty throws me, and it takes me a beat to recover. "First of all, I think you meant to say Winnie drew the golden ticket. You did, too, for that matter, becauuuuuuse"—I raise the basket between us and nod toward the stable—"Miss Kerry has baked us some of her special lemon poppy seed muffins!"

"Ohhh," Garrett says. Her tone is soft and wistful, and I warm at the expression on her young face. Well played, Kerry. "Winnie and I both love lemon poppy seed."

"Then it's fate. You're meant to be here to help me eat all of these today."

We make our way to the stables, and I lift a flap followed by a plaid kitchen towel, holding the basket under Winnie's nose. The magical pull of sugary sweetness softens her expression immediately.

"Are those lemon poppy seed?"

"See? The day's already looking up."

She grabs a muffin, immediately diving in. "I forgot breakfast," she admits.

"Take two, then. Three. However many you need. There's more than enough here. It's like Kerry woke up and decided to bake for an entire football team."

Garrett giggles, reaching for her own and taking a giant bite. I know, these girls aren't starving. They have food at home. But I'm also aware Winnie skips meals when she's busy—and she's busy all the time—and no one is making sure she is taking care of herself. Ergo, I feel like I should take care of her.

(With baked goods my housekeeper made, because I'm a douchecanoe, but still.)

(Note to self: Buy something nice for Kerry and convince her to make more muffins.) (Or better yet, maybe ask her to teach me how to make muffins so I am less of a douchecanoe.)

I swear I can feel the rush of air against my face as Ghost Walker gestures wildly at me as if he's saying, See? Growth!

We fill up on the muffins, and Winnie passes the empty basket to her sister. "Hey, Garre, take this back to Miss Kerry at the big house and make sure you say thank-you for the treat. Let her know how delicious it was."

"You got it," Garrett says, rushing off, long dark braids streaming behind her.

Winnie turns to me, but before she can open her mouth, I say, "Whatever you're going to freak out about, don't."

She wilts. "I'm going to lose my job. I can't bring my little sister to work with me! I can't babysit while I'm supposed to be taking care of the horses, and I have a trail ride this afternoon. It's a private tour with another rich family who will not be cool with my little sister tagging along and chirping facts about quantum physics."

I clamp down on my smile. "You're not going to lose your job."

"This is twice now I've had to bring my sister with me. It's so unprofessional!"

"Yeah," I say dryly, "because this place is the height of professionalism. You're not going to lose your job," I repeat. "You aren't going to babysit while you work, and you aren't going to take her with you on the trail ride even though I sort of wonder if Mr. Schneider would be into a discussion about quantum physics. Doesn't matter." I wave her off. "Garrett would hate it."

Winnie's eyes bug out and her nostrils flare, and I probably shouldn't find it attractive, but I do. A little scary, sure, but attractive nevertheless. I cut her off before flames start pouring out of her eyeballs.

"As much as I would love to see that temper of yours explode, hold on. I'm not dismissing your worries. I'm trying to tell you I volunteer as babysitter. Though…" I pause and consider, scratching at my early-morning scruff. "Is babysitter the correct term? For a genius ten-year-old? She could probably teach me a few things. Tutor me in trigonometry. Improve my riding form. Build a working wind turbine out of Popsicle sticks."

Winnie blinks. "You want to watch her?"

"Sure."

"You?"

"Yeah. Me."

She narrows her gaze. "Do you even know anything about kids?"

"What's to know? I have nineteen years of life experience."

"I can't."

I place my hand on her shoulder, ignoring the way my skin heats at the connection. "You don't have a ton of options here. We'll be fine. It's like two hours. We won't even leave the ranch."

She releases a long breath. Then does it again. Hell, she's really having to convince herself, which is doing wonders for my self-esteem. "Okay," she concedes.

"Great."

She tips her head to the side, considering me. "Why are you doing this?"

I shrug, lifting my hand off her shoulder. "What else have I got to do?" She presses her lips together. I sigh. "Look, it's fine. I want to help. I literally have all day open and owe Garrett after turning out at the rodeo."

"True…"

I try a new tactic. "It's okay to accept help. The world won't fall apart if you're not holding it."

"It feels like taking advantage."

"Okay, fine. You're right. I won't ask her to tutor me. She's too young, and it's her day off."

Winnie cracks the tiniest of smiles, and my chest might explode at the victory. "Are you sure about this?"

My heart is thudding. It feels like I've been given a gift, and the last thing I want to do is mess this up, but also, I'm me, so I say, "Absolutely. Now how does that rhyme go? ‘Beer after liquor, never been sicker'?"

"Case." Her eyes are smiling, though. Her entire face is one giant relieved grin.

Idid that.

"Just kidding. We'll stick to energy drinks."

"Case." Her tone is soft, and I can hear the front door slam in the distance, signaling Garrett's return.

I match her tone. "Winifred."

"Thank you."

This time, I smile. I've been a bit out of practice with smiling, but she brings them out of me like breaths. "You're welcome."

Winnie's on a trail ride when it all goes to shit later that morning. Garrett was outside the barn while I was brushing down Elvis and Jose. She had been sitting on the bench, doing her homework. Or maybe it wasn't homework. Maybe it was extra credit. Whatever it was, the weather was gorgeous, so she asked if she could sit in the sunshine, and I listened to her humming, enjoying the quiet, when all of a sudden, a loud screech fills the air and rips through my heart.

I drop my brush with a clunk and sprint toward the noise.

"Garrett?"

"Case!" She is full on screaming now, and I skid to a stop, taking in the scene in front of me. Garrett has climbed into the pen in front of the barn. The one with Charles. She's pinned against the fence, but on the inside. Charles is standing, chest puffed and nostrils flaring, eyes locked on her tiny form.

I don't even stop to think. I launch myself over the top of the fence in front of her and whip my bright T-shirt off, wildly waving it over my head like a fucking matador. "Hey, Charles. Here, Charles!" I fling the tee. "Fetch, Charles!" He doesn't take the bait.

"Oh my god, Garrett!" Winnie's terrified voice rings out. She's back from her trail ride.

I yell, "Grab her through the fence, Win! Get her out of here!"

As soon as I feel Garrett pulled from behind me, I dart to the side, taking Charles's attention with me. He's huffing while his hooves paw at the dusty earth, and my heart pounds clear out of my chest. He plows forward and ducks his head, but I dodge out of the way, my reflexes clearing his horns. We line up, and he charges again, this time bucking a little. I need to get out of the pen, but I suspect he'll get under me if it takes me too long to climb the fence.

Winnie stands on the gate, waving her arms wildly. "This way, Case. On three!"

I rush at her, counting in my head. One, he's just behind me. Two, I can hear the rumble in his chest vibrate down to my bones. Three, his hot breath is on the back of my fucking neck. The gate swings open, and I dive through, somersaulting out of the way as Winnie shoves it closed with a mighty clang.

Charles is vicious, but he's not stupid. He pulls up short with a powerful snort, and by the time I'm surging to my feet, he's already turned away as if he wasn't just about to murder me. I slump back down to the ground, my blood thrumming and my head spinning. I shut my eyes and let out an involuntary groan.

"Holy fuck, are you okay?"

I whimper, my eyes still closed. After a beat, I say weakly, "Pretty sure."

"Garrett, what on earth? Why were you in there?"

I hear Garrett's sniff from somewhere in the vicinity of my head. "The wind. It blew my chart into the pen. I thought I could quick-jump in there and grab it and come right back out, but then I saw the bull and freaked out! Oh my god, are you okay, Case? Win, is he okay?"

"Case is okay," I mutter, even though it's debatable. But hell, I don't want Garrett to feel bad.

"Garre, I need you to go ask Kerry for a glass of cold water, okay? Tell the truth, but make sure she knows Case isn't hurt."

"Okay."

After a beat, I open one eye. "Is she gone?" I whisper.

Winnie's face above me breaks into a droll smile. "You have at least five minutes until they all come running."

With a grunt, I prop myself up on my elbows and wiggle my limbs to check for breaks, but everything seems to be functioning.

"Are you okay?" Winnie's question is soft. Softer than anything else I've ever heard from her before.

"Surprisingly, yeah. I think I am. I can't believe I did that. I've been staring down that fucking bull for fucking days, and without even thinking, I launched myself inside the pen."

"Thank you. I don't… I don't know what else to say. Just thank you. She could have been killed. You could have been killed. You almost were! I can't…" Her eyes take on a sheen. "Oh my gosh, look at my hands." She holds up trembling fingers. "I think it's starting to hit me now."

I drop back to the ground with a thud. "I'm just gonna rest a second. Catch my breath. Tell me when they get close?"

My eyes are closed, but I can feel the ghost of a brush of fingers across my forehead, cool and calming.

A few minutes pass before she quietly drawls above me. "They're comin'."

I sit up again, this time pulling my knees closer to my chest, draping my forearms across, attempting to look casual and not like I ache in places I don't remember the names of.

Winnie snorts. "Yeah. They'll never guess."

"Does this mean I'm fired from babysitting duty?" I ask out of the side of my mouth.

"Hell. It takes more than almost being gored by a psychotic bull to scare us Sutton girls."

I cringe at her forced lightness. I know I messed up. Royally. "I'm sorry. I swear I was watching her. She was outside the barn on the bench the entire time, and I—"

Winnie interrupts with a gentle hand to my arm. She pulls my focus toward her, and my eyes lock on hers. "Case. Stop running the analytics. Kids are unpredictable. You can never watch them closely enough. You could carry Garrett in your shirt pocket, and she'd still find a way to get hung up in the buttons."

"I told you to trust me, and I let her wander into a bull enclosure. You'll never let anyone help again!"

"Please," Winnie says lightly. "You're practically a superhero in her eyes at this point. I think you're stuck with her."

I look away from her, feeling better. "What about you? Am I a superhero in your eyes?"

She knocks my shoulder. "Super? Eh. Hero? Fuck yeah. I think you might be. But," she says under her breath, right as her sister and Kerry rush over to us, arms full of supplies. "You tell anyone I said that, and I'll have to kill you."

A little while later, after Winnie and Garrett leave for the day and Kerry finally lets me out of her sight after feeding me and monitoring me for a concussion (even though I definitely did not hit my head), I enter my room and head for my desk. I pull out Walker's list and a black permanent marker, and when I come to the words Conquer a bull OUTSIDE the arena, I draw a fat line right through it.

Fucking conquered.