CHAPTER ONE

– EASTLYNNE –

I breathe in the fresh morning breeze and feel the sun breaking through the morning fog as it hits my face. This might be my favorite time of the day. The faint sounds of nature and the low whinny of my horse, Fletch, lighten my mood as he curls his head around me.

This serenity right here is why I bought this ranch and moved in a little over a week ago. The place needs a little work but has a load of potential, and even more land surrounding it; exactly what my line of work desires.

I love what I do and consider it a privilege to be able to live my dream. My fingers glide over Fletch's neck. He's my first, and the only horse I own at the moment. Though, I've worked with many. The connection Fletch and I share is why I finally acted on my dream.

My grandfather had a unique approach when it came to training horses. He created partnerships with horses based on their emotional and psychological needs, and using non-verbal communication resulting in mutual respect. He's my biggest inspiration, following in his footsteps.

My father died when my mother was pregnant with me. My mom moved in with her parents and they were the support system she needed as a single mom. Growing up on a ranch, surrounded by horses, gave me the drive to one day own my own ranch, which I finally made reality.

My mother helped us settle in, but she left yesterday. She practically demanded to stay a few days to make sure everything was okay. I'm not a kid, but she worries about me, so I let her stay for a few days so she can see with her own eyes that I'm doing more than fine, especially since my sister moved in with me.

Now my mom is off to paradise with my stepfather. They will be traveling for the upcoming few months and their first destination is Hawaii. I'm happy for her, and even happier it's not me who's doing the traveling. This move has been stressful, and more than enough excitement to last me a lifetime.

I don't do change well. Hell, I don't function well at all. At least, not like a neurotypical person. I'm a highly sensitive person which means I process everything in great detail. There are definitely advantages to it, but the downside is sensory overload which results in migraines along with other things like stomach issues and joint pains. I'm also autistic which also complicates social communication and interaction.

You could say my anxiety skyrockets from time to time and my mood is a bouncing ball. It's yet another trigger that causes headaches. The normal headaches can build up to a migraine, and then there are the ice pick headaches. The name basically explains it; like an ice pick jammed into your brain. That's what it feels like. The sharp pains can be instant and short, or sometimes longer.

The headaches and migraines started when I was about twelve years old. The list of the "what's wrong" question is long when it comes to me. I was a germaphobe when I was younger, but I have it somewhat under control now. Though, I do hate it when people touch me or having them in my personal space. I never answer a phone call and would love to ignore the world around me if I could.

I know that's impossible, and I'm thankful to have a job that allows me to work by myself with as little outside confrontation as possible. That's also thanks to my sister, who only has a small dose of the crazy running her brain. My mother always said we inherited it from our father.

"Did you have something to drink yet?" my sister's voice breaks through my mind-rant moment.

I get to my feet and rub Fletch behind his ear. He's still lying on the blanket I put on the ground for us and stays like that while my sister strolls toward us.

"No, Mom," I quip, sarcasm dripping from those two words.

Cosima rolls her eyes. "Don't give me attitude, East. You know a headache is right around the corner if you don't get any fluids inside you."

I know she's right, and it's annoying. I like coffee, but too much caffeine can trigger a migraine, and I don't exactly crave anything else in the morning. Most times I simply forget to drink something and only realize I haven't put any fluids inside me until I have a headache.

My sister is the one who reminds me most of the time, and I'm thankful for her annoying interference. She's also the one who handles all the social interaction, communication, and financial parts of our business. I'm the one who trains the horses and we both take care of them.

I might have started out as a normal horse trainer, but when I started working with Fletch, I found a challenge in teaching him tricks. Tricks that the movie business appreciates. My sister was the one who got us the first assignment for a commercial and it took off at lightning speed after that.

It's why I could afford to buy this ranch and, in the future, take on horses that have been traumatized by events or have developed bad behavior, suffered abuse, or have been neglected. Did I mention I love my job? The gratification of taking away the torment in their eyes and making sure they enjoy life is something I will never get tired of.

"What time will the new mare arrive?" I question in order to steer the discussion away from my lack of a beverage this morning.

This mare will become my second horse, one I will buy, and isn't a foster or traumatized.

Cosima pins me with a stern look. "Are you asking so you can disappear on me? You do know these guys want you to be there when they hand her over, right?"

"I know," I grumble, and my mood takes a nosedive.

"We met with Weston a few weeks ago." Cosima winces and adds, "His son will be delivering the mare because he was the one who bred and trained her."

Oh, goodie, interacting with a stranger. I release a deep breath and try to remember the interaction will only be for a small amount of time. Besides, Cosima will handle the discussion and I'll ignore everything and everyone around me…except for the horse.

This mare is from the same bloodline as Fletch. I've been searching for five years to find a…not so much a replacement, more along the lines of a future second in line. Fletch is getting old and I want another horse with the same character. My search brought me to the Iron Hot Blood Ranch. They breed both Long Horns and Quarter horses and their ranch is a few miles down the road from mine.

When I went to check out the mare they had for sale, I instantly fell in love with the three-year-old. Her chestnut coat and bald face, the white not covering her blue eyes resemble the same markings as Fletch, even her two front legs have matching half stockings. Yes, letting my sister handle the social part so I can get Fletch a young sibling without fuss sounds great. I just have to endure a little head bobbing and that'll be that.

"I'll go change," I mutter and take a step in the direction of the house.

Cosima snorts. "Here I thought you didn't give a damn and would welcome the guy in your jammies."

"Don't tempt me, Cosima. You know I don't give a flying fuck what others think." Lies. All lies, because if I need to be on set to make the horse do his thing? I make damn sure my appearance is utter perfection.

Another notorious demand I place on myself. I have routines for everything and this too adds to the stress life gives. I haven't even mentioned the many other triggers that can set off a migraine or shove me into a mental tailspin. Scents, bright light, flashes, people in general, just to name a few.

"Uh." Cosima firms the tone of her voice to add with a little snap, "Be sure to grab some decaf I made you along with the crackers I placed on the counter."

"Thanks, sis," I grunt with a hint of annoyance.

She knows me all too well. Forgetting my water intake goes hand-in-hand with not eating and only realizing by the end of the day, so I eat a big meal…resulting in my stomach acting up. My stomach isn't amused most of the time due to the different meds I have to take and have taken in the past.

At least I've managed to get somewhat of a handle on my headaches to keep the migraines to a minimum. Which involves ignoring social activities, keeping to myself, and making sure I take my meds along with a steady flow of food, fluids, work, and relaxing activities.

"You're welcome, sunshine," she replies with laughter in her voice.

The corner of my mouth twitches. I love my sister. She's my best friend, support system, business partner, and roommate all rolled into one. I'm thankful to have her in my life and she knows it. I wouldn't even know what I'd do without her. It's also why my mother liked the idea of me buying the ranch, but only if my sister would move in with me.

Cosima is also the one who always gets me grumpy. For one because she's always around, but mostly? I can be myself and not have to hide when I'm in pain or don't want to talk or be nice.

I take a deep breath and steel myself for what I'm about to do. Turning, I walk back to Cosima and give her a hug. She freezes for a second and then returns the hug full force. I rarely want people in my personal space and only want it on my terms…which is almost non-existent.

"Okay, you can let go now." Cosima chuckles. "I love getting one of your rare hugs, but I also know you're silently counting inside your head to endure it."

Pulling back, I grin and tell her in all honesty, "I love you."

"Yeah, yeah, I love me too. Go and change, and don't think that I'm letting you off the hook by talking to the guy who brings your horse. The hug was special, but not special enough to bribe me."

I roll my eyes and smile as I jog in the direction of the house. I kick my boots off before entering and wander through the kitchen and the hallway until I get to my bedroom. The first things I grab are some clean clothes along with a fresh towel. I take a quick shower and blow-dry my hair when I'm done.

The light-blue flare jeans hug my curves. That's putting it mildly since my ass is double size. My sister has a completely different build. I'm more like a pear figure while Cosima rocks the hourglass. We're completely different. I mentioned the social and mental part, along with our figure, but where Cosima never steps foot outside the house without lip gloss, I never so much as own or touch makeup.

I do however obsess over my clothes. They need to be clean and perfect. My slight obsession to dress the part of a cowgirl adds to the obsession. A blue-checkered flannel shirt with a white tank top underneath, a red bandana, my flare jeans, light-brown cowboy boots, and my cowboy hat. Perfect. I smile at myself in the mirror and stroll out of my room.

"He's early," Cosima yells from the front porch.

"Great," I mutter to myself as I wander over to her.

Cosima points and I have to block the sun with my hand and squint to see what she's looking at.

"Holy hell, is he insane?" I grumble. "Who transports a horse like that?"

Cosima chuckles. "I'm assuming a cowboy biker, didn't you listen to all the details I found out about them when you wanted to buy one of their horses?"

"All I care about is the horse," I murmur with a load of worry in my voice.

The way a man is riding his bike alongside the horse I'm about to buy worries the hell out of me.

"The horse doesn't seem to care all that much," Cosima quips. "I'm guessing those guys ride their bikes all the time and the way she trots shows she's relaxed and used to it."

I ignore her because she's right. Still, I'm not liking it.

"Be nice," my sister warns as the biker comes closer.

I shoot her a glare and want nothing more than to reply with, "Fat chance," but I won't. Cosima might be my sister and always there when I need her, but she has her limits as well. If I piss her off, she'd walk away and I'd have to deal with the biker myself. It'll drain my battery, so to say, but I'd do it because I want the damn horse too much.

The bike comes to a stop and the guy swings his leg off. His cowboy hat is pulled down to hide his eyes. He's wearing a leather vest with patches on it and a white shirt underneath it. Wow. The man has some serious muscles.

He tips his head back and I suck in a sharp breath. Damn. The man has some serious bright blue eyes. There's blond hair sticking out from under his hat, and his scruffy jaw adds to his rugged handsome appearance. He gives me a smile that causes a dimple to appear on his cheek.

I realize I'm openly ogling him and can feel my cheeks heat. Frustration wells up inside me and I rip my gaze from him to glare at my sister, willing her to say something so we can get this over with.

I want the horse, not the guy delivering her. Though, I wouldn't mind having…no. I'm not a virgin, but it's too long since my first time. My issues have only grown over the past few years, and I simply gave up on men after that miserable first time. Until this guy showed up I never even had sex on my mind. Shit. He needs to leave.

"Get him out of here," I hiss under my breath at my sister.