14. Woody

14

WOODY

I checked my phone.

Emery: Good morning.

Emery: Rowdy said you had a migraine yesterday. I hope you’re feeling better today.

It had been a week since Emery fucked me up against the tree, and I’d been ignoring his texts ever since. Some of that had to do with me just being a stubborn cuss, but some of it had to do with seeing that he had an overnight visitor this past weekend. It was someone he trusted enough to put Stevie on his shoulders, and someone she trusted enough to show off Blanche and Tim.

Not gonna lie, I didn’t like it. Even after Rowdy told me about meeting the guy—Kessler—and insisting that they were just business partners and good friends, I’d still hated seeing some Austin guy show up and make him laugh.

Anyways. Emery never acknowledged that I wasn’t replying, instead sending me a good morning message every day at seven on the dot. I didn’t know what to make of it, and I suspected that his patience with my non-responses wouldn’t last forever.

More problematically, I got hard every time I imagined what he’d do when his patience ran out, and again when I imagined how his hands felt on my body. The way he fucked me rough like I liked, then made sure I was cared for after. How he played and tugged on my spent cock in a way that felt fucking fantastic, not overstimulating.

The hickey he’d left on my neck had faded to a yellowish green, but I shuddered every morning when I saw it in the mirror. I had never desired a city-boy lover, assuming they’d be even more distant than the lovers I’d had out here. When I’d dreamt of Emery in bed, my imagination had not fully realized his mix of command and warmth. The natural way he was in charge, not letting me pull away, and yet still so attentive to detail.

I jacked off every morning, and then again at night as I showered. I was feeding the animals, spacing out until the feed overran the bucket and a sika nudged me out of the way, nearly blinding me with its antlers.

I’d officially run out of time this morning. Tim the zonkey was still my responsibility, and I had to check on his progress. Although I was nowhere near ready to see Emery, I mounted Shadow, then made my way down the drive and onto his property.

Emery was sitting comfortably on the fancy outdoor furniture, Stevie curled up in his lap with a book while he held a steaming mug of coffee in his free hand. He was wearing pajama pants and a stretched-out T-shirt, looking every bit like someone’s dad and nothing like the kind of man who’d hunted me down and fucked me against a tree.

The one-eighty made me dizzy, as did the way his eyes tracked me while I sauntered over.

“Mornin’, Woody. You here to check on Tim?”

“Yep. Shouldn’t take me too long.”

“Would you like some coffee?”

No. What I wanted to do was shove Stevie off his lap, curl up against his neck, and inhale his expensive soap and aftershave. She was lucky I liked her a little too much for that.

I mean, sure, I wasn’t a fan of kids, but Stevie was different.

“Already had some this morning,” I said, not wanting to fall into the temptation of spending extra time with him.

“Dad, can I go with Woody to check out Tim?”

“Of course, honey. He’ll want to know what you’ve been doing this week.”

“She’s been taking care of him?” I asked, pausing for Stevie.

“With Rowdy’s supervision.”

“Speaking of,” I interrupted, “where is my cousin?”

“Pretty sure he spent the night with a friend,” Emery answered, emphasizing friend in a way that went over Stevie’s head, but that I got immediately.

“Dad, when you say ‘friend,’ do you mean boyfriend?” Stevie asked.

Maybe she did get it.

Emery’s eyes twinkled. “I’m just relaying the facts as they were told to me. Besides, it’s important for us to respect Rowdy’s privacy.”

I ignored the dig and waited for Stevie to hop up. She’d clearly been expecting my arrival, and was wearing bib overalls, a sparkly purple T-shirt, and some pretty legit work boots that’d been jazzed up with a few hand-painted flowers and butterflies.

“I like your boots.”

“Thank you, they’re just like my dad’s. I like yours, too.”

I glanced over at Emery, who seemed to smile as he sipped his coffee, unable to hide his pride.

This gentle expression of sweetness with his daughter was fucking with my head, and I didn’t think I’d ever be able to square that to the beast he became when we got naked. Considering I was about to spend some time with his daughter, I dragged my thoughts—kicking and screaming—back into the PG realm.

Now that my head was on straight, I dutifully followed Stevie to Tim’s stall, noting that she was careful to secure the barn door behind us.

“I’m surprised he enjoys being in the stall,” I said, noting how easily he came up to Stevie.

She lifted a shoulder as she opened the stall door. “Sometimes he likes to be in the same stall as Blanche, and sometimes he likes his own space, and sometimes he does zoomies all around the paddock.”

“And he’s been gentle with you?”

“He’s my friend.”

“It looks like he enjoys what you feed him.”

She smiled at the sweet hybrid, rubbing his neck. “He loves carrots.”

“You remember when he first came here, how he had all those ribs showing?”

She nodded soberly.

“Look here,” I said, pointing to his flank. “Not a rib in sight.”

I was impressed by how quickly they’d gotten him closer to a normal weight. His clipped ear seemed to be fully healed and even his coat seemed to take on a bit more shine.

“Dad says that all it takes is love and food. And patience.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not so great on the patience part, but I do alright with the love and the food.”

“So, you’re the one who’s been feeding him this whole time?”

“With Rowdy. He’s really good at the patient part.”

“That is true. My cousin has a way with all animals.”

“I think he’s happy to be here.”

“Tim? Absolutely.”

“No, silly. Rowdy .” She sighed as though she had something important to say. “I don’t think he was very happy before he came here. I think he was lonely. I overheard him tell Dad that his parents don’t talk to him because he’s gay. I asked Grandma about that and she said that there is nothing sadder than a parent who rejects their own child.”

I tucked my chin. “I agree.”

She looked at me with eyes brimming. “Why would anybody treat Rowdy like that? He’s so good with animals and he’s so nice, the way he helps us.”

I felt a lump in my throat, painful and raw. I shook my head. “I don’t know. I wish I did.” I cleared my throat. “I agree with you, though. Rowdy is the best.”

She pressed her hands on her hips. “Then why do you tease him all the time?”

“He teases me!”

“ Still .”

“That’s how we show our love for each other.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Dad sometimes teases me, but not all the time because it would hurt my feelings. Maybe you should be nice to Rowdy half the time and only tease him half the time so that he knows how much you love him.”

There went that goddamn lump in my throat again. She surprised me with how much she saw.

“I think that’s a good idea,” I said, picking at the paint embedded in my fingernails.

“What are you painting?” she asked, changing subjects easy as you please.

“I just repainted one of my outbuildings. Had some paint left over, was thinking I’d paint the gate out front.”

“Can I help you?”

My eyes widened. I was shocked by her offer, but one look in her expectant face and I folded like a cheap suit.

“Um, sure. But I’m starting early in the morning. First thing.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m staying with my grandma this weekend. Can you wait until Monday?” she asked, so very earnest. “I’ll get up early. I’ll help. Promise.”

“Well, I’ll be busy most of this next week,” I said, shuffling uncomfortably on my feet. “But Friday might work.”

“Yay!” She punctuated that with a little hop, and I could practically hear a crack go through the wall around my heart.

Goddammit.

Scrambling for something else to focus on, I grabbed one of the apple slices Rowdy kept out for the horses and offered it to Tim. He sniffed from a distance before looking to Stevie. I broke the slice in half and gave it to her. Tim trotted forward as she held it out on the flat of her palm. He nibbled it away instantly.

I did the same, holding out a piece of apple on an open palm, and after a few seconds of hesitation, he delicately took the apple then stepped back.

“We have to be careful about where he ends up,” I said, as much to myself as her. “He’s such a rare, pretty foal that someone could try to sell him. Also, these hybrids can get aggressive, so we’ll get him fixed?—”

“What does that mean? Get him fixed?” Stevie asked.

At the same time, Emery, now dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, joined us in the barn. Stevie was right—they were wearing the exact same boots, save for the painted-on bits. Fuckin’ adorable.

Objectively, of course.

I looked to Emery to answer since he was her father, and he sent me a small nod.

“Sweetie, fixing an animal normally means that they’ll have a surgery so that they can’t get pregnant or make another animal pregnant,” he explained smoothly. “Though I don’t think zonkeys can make babies.”

He checked with me, and I shook my head.

“So, why does he need to be fixed if he can’t make anyone pregnant?”

I sucked in my lips, wondering how the hell he was going to answer.

“How do we know Tim is a boy?” Em asked calmly.

“He has a penis and testicles,” she said without hesitation.

Wasn’t expecting that, but maybe I should’ve. Emery was a great dad, after all. Not surprising he’d made sure she understood basic anatomy.

“And what gets made in the testicles?”

“Sperm.”

“That’s right. The testicles also produce hormones that can make animals like Tim aggressive. Since he’ll need to be around people, we need to do everything possible to prevent him from hurting anyone. And it’s the same surgery to prevent him from producing sperm.”

Stevie brought her brows together, concentrating hard on what her father was saying. “You can do surgery on testicles?”

Honestly, if I heard either of them say testicles one more time, I was going to melt into the earth, Wicked Witch-style.

“Yep. And, since Tim does not need testicles to live, the doctor will simply remove them.”

Her jaw dropped so fast. “No, Dad! You can’t cut that off! That hurts him!”

“Honey, I know it seems pretty extreme, but we need to do what we can to make sure Tim doesn’t hurt anyone.” He shot me a covert leer, then said, “Some colts just need to be fixed, else they’ll be mean to everyone.”

Fuck you , I mouthed over Stevie’s head.

He winked. No, fuck you.

“But Tim’s not mean!”

“Right now he’s not, but hormones change everything. Plus, if he’s calm, that’ll help us find the best place for him.”

She stamped her feet. “But this is the best place for him. He doesn’t belong anywhere else. He belongs here. With us. We made him better. Not other people!”

“You’re right, sweetie. We did help him to get better. Though, you have to agree that Tim did all the hard work.”

“ Still .”

“Even if we wanted to keep him, sweetie, we could not keep him intact. The only way that would work is if we did the surgery.”

“So you’re gonna take off his balls either way?” she asked, on the verge of crying.

At least she didn’t say testicles again.

“It’s for his health and his happiness, Stevie-girl. And I know that is so hard to understand because we don’t do that for humans, but he won’t be in any danger, I promise.”

She threw her arms around Tim’s neck and sobbed. I bit back a laugh, then snuck a look at Emery, and the laughter died in my throat. A tear trickled down his cheek, and he approached her gently, placing his large hand on her small back, practically spanning the width of it.

“I promise. We will take such good care of him. And wherever he ends up, it will be the best place for him.”

“Can’t we ju-just k-keep him?” she asked, looking up at her dad with such gimlet eyes I couldn’t imagine him saying no to her.

“I don’t know, honey. I promise you that if it’s the best thing for him and if it is safe for you, we will. Though, it’s probable that the best place for him is a place like Woody’s sanctuary.”

That bastard. She turned her pleading eyes to me. “If we can’t keep him, will you take him, Woody?”

“I tell you what, sweet girl,” I said, shooting daggers at her father. “Your dad is right. We’re going to do whatever is best for Tim. If that’s keeping him here, I’ll help y’all, and if it’s keeping him at my place, I’ll make sure you get to visit him whenever you want to. We don’t yet know his full list of needs because he’s a hybrid, and I’ve never worked with one before. But I can promise you, the first thing at the very top of that list is that he needs to get fixed.”

“Are. You. Sure?” she asked, her chest hitching as she sucked in her lower lip between each word.

“Yes, sweetie. I promise I wouldn’t allow any surgery that would hurt him.”

She blinked, big fat tears falling down her cheeks, and she ran at me, hugging me tight as she wept into my shirt. Not sure what to do, I let my arms hover around her until she squeezed even tighter. I completed the hug and held her close until her sobs calmed into quiet sniffles.

With one big sniff, she stepped back and looked up at me, her eyes red. “Okay. Do you at least know a good doctor?”

I nodded and gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I know the very best doctor. And I’ll introduce you to her before we do this, okay?”

She wiped her nose on her shoulder. “Okay.”

She then drifted over to her father, who wrapped her up in a big hug without hesitation.

“I’m so sorry you got so upset. Your grandma is going to be here in a few minutes. Do you want me to tell her you’d rather stay with me today?”

“No. Grandma said we were going to go shopping for spinny skirts.”

“Well, you can’t go without spinny skirts, can you?”

“No, Dad. And since we’re in the country, we’re going to find country spinny skirts.”

Emery shot me a glance, and the way his eyes crinkled with joy was like an arrow straight to my heart. And I suddenly felt like such a shit for not responding to his texts this past week.

This was so goddamned inconvenient.