CHAPTER THREE

– EASTLYNNE –

I throw a handful of meds in my mouth and swallow them down with some water. A handful is an exaggeration, but sometimes it feels like it. A few vitamins, my anxiety meds that keep some of the rough edges of my triggers at bay, and my allergy medicine. Yes, it sucks big time to be allergic when you work with horses. It's not so much the horses, but the hay, dust, and such.

"Have a fun afternoon," Cosima quips as she breezes past me.

"You're not coming with me?" I somewhat squeak.

She opens the back door. "Nope, we're getting some stuff delivered and I have to be here to ensure everything goes smoothly. Did I forget to mention that?"

I narrow my eyes. "You handle these things which means you knew damn well it was coming. So, you were very aware of the fact that I would have to go to the Iron Hot Blood Ranch by myself when I made the appointment."

"Uh huh." She shoots me a grin. "That's why I said ‘have fun.' You've already met Rourke, and even with your grumpy attitude, the guy asked for your help with a horse. Just focus on the horse and ignore everything else, it's what you always do anyway."

I grit my teeth. Cosima knows about my issues and still throws me to the wolves every now and then. Sometimes I think no one really understands while, on the other hand, I know I can't hide or run from everything and have to throw some huge big girl panties on to do something without flipping my shit or taking a mental nosedive. Which eventually leads to a migraine that takes me out for the rest of the day.

"I hate you," I grumble.

"Love you too, sis," Cosima replies with a smile in her voice and disappears out the back door.

With a huge dose of reluctance, I stomp toward the front door and double-check to make sure I have my phone and keys. Snatching my Stetson from the hook, I leave the house and stalk to my truck. My earbuds are in place to dim out some of the outside world. Sometimes I don't even have music on, but it just helps to have a little barrier in place so people think I can't hear them.

I get into my truck and pop a piece of gum–Ice Breakers Ice Cubes Raspberry Sorbet to be precise–into my mouth. There's only one cube left and I make a mental note to add it to the grocery list. Throwing my cowboy hat on the passenger seat, I start my truck and guide it onto the road.

It's a short drive to the Iron Hot Blood Ranch and I make sure to park away from the large building. I'd rather stay in my truck to gather my thoughts for a few minutes, but I notice Rourke striding toward me as if he was waiting for me to show up to corner me so I can't leave. I release a deep breath and step out of the truck.

"Hey," I quip, trying to sound casual.

"Eastlynne," he rumbles and tips his Stetson.

I've seen many men wearing cowboy hats of different brands, but the way Rourke wears his Stetson? It's like the man was born to wear it.

"I don't mind standing here until you get your fill, darlin'. Though, I did order everyone out of the stables for the next hour to make you feel at ease…so your private time is ticking away."

The heat blossoming on my cheeks forces me to dive into my truck and grab my hat. What an asshole. Luckily, my annoyance and anger tone down the shame of being caught ogling.

Turning back to face him I snap, "Lead the way."

He strides away and I make sure to stay a few steps behind him until I abruptly stop at the sight of a man riding a Longhorn.

"Now that's a sight you don't see every day," I muse.

I hear Rourke chuckle. "Parker trains both horses and Longhorns. His father, Roper, is a Bull Riding World Champion. You might say his son followed in his footsteps."

"Those horns are huge." I turn to Rourke. "Do you ride bulls?"

His eyes are a twinkling sea of blue. "Nah, I'd rather stick with horses and let Parker and some of the other brothers handle the Longhorns. If I do interact with them it's to put a herd from one into another pasture."

"How many brothers do you have?" I wonder.

"By blood one, Cashton. He's the youngest. We also have an older sister, Magdalena. The brothers I was referring to are my club brothers. My father used to be the president of the motorcycle club that runs the ranch until I took over last year. My parents still live on the property, but they're enjoying their retirement while the second generation has taken over all the tasks. The older generation still helps out from time to time, though. We're a solid brotherhood, a family…by blood or not."

The words he just shared, along with the warmth in his voice, and the fondness written all over his face cause me to smile while I honestly tell him, "That's nice and rare to have such a solid foundation surrounding you."

"Definitely." He starts to walk in the direction of the stables. "Sometimes it's a pain in the ass, though. We also own a junkyard and I don't enjoy the work, but we rotate shifts to keep things interesting. Everything is hard work, but I'd rather work with the livestock."

"I can't imagine doing anything else than working with horses. Especially when it comes to working with people," I muse.

Rourke turns his head my way. "You work with your sister, right?"

I shrug. "I don't mind people once I let them into my circle."

"So, you do have friends?" he questions.

Wincing I admit, "No, too much work."

He throws his head back and barks out a laugh. "Ain't that the truth? But it's worth having people to fall back on. I guess for me it's different because I grew up in a huge as fuck found family. It's not always nice and friendly, though. I would feed some of my brothers to the pigs if we had them."

Now it's my turn to laugh. "Maybe I should get some pigs for that reason alone."

"Nah, girl, stick to those horses you love, and let me know if anyone is bothering you." He comes to a stop in front of a stall. "I'd make sure they'd never come near you again."

I gaze up at him and realize by the fierce look in his eyes that he's dead serious about the statement he just made. "Thanks, I'll keep it in mind."

The nervous behavior of the horse in the stall grabs my attention. I can't prevent the gasp falling from my lips.

"Who would do such a thing?" I whisper and take in all the injuries this poor horse has all over his body.

"A former brother of our MC bought Buckey. We didn't know he was buying him for a friend of his, we only discovered this fact last week. When I went over to check out the new owner, I found out the fucker couldn't handle Buckey and tried to whip and beat him into obedience. Needless to say, I took Buckey with me," Rourke grits.

"How can someone from your family do such a thing?" I whisper, remembering what Rourke just told me about his brotherhood.

Rourke sighs. "Every few years we take on a new prospect or two to grow our business and family. We do extensive background checks and they have to prospect for over a year or so to prove themselves. Winfield, the one who fucked-up, recently patched in as a full member. He was with us for over a year and lives in town, so he wasn't a complete stranger since he always came into the bar we own. Anyway, we know people can make mistakes, but he fucked-up when he ignored a rule we have in place. This horse." He points at Buckey. "Will forever carry the trauma with him, that's unforgivable."

I tilt my head and can't help but wonder, "Maybe Winfield didn't know his friend was going to hurt Buckey."

Rourke's upper lip curls due to anger because it's loud and clear in his voice when he states, "Oh, he knew alright. I didn't even have to dig deep to find out that fucker, Erwin Desmond, has had over eight horses die on him. I'm sure Buckey would have been number nine if I hadn't taken him with me that day."

I shake my head. "I'll never understand the reasons why anyone would hurt animals."

"I'm not even going to start to understand," Rourke grumbles. "They screw up, they can fuck the hell off and pay the price of hurting one of our own."

"So, I guess Winfield doesn't work here anymore?"

Rourke pins me with a fierce stare. "Work here? Fuck, no. He's out in bad standing. His colors are stripped and he'll never become a member ever again. If he ever so much as steps foot on our property again I'll beat his ass to a pulp."

The anger in his voice along with his fierce words should make me step back, but instead, I find myself inching closer to him. Close contact is something I only do with people who are in my inner circle. However, Rourke somehow makes me feel safe due to the things he just said. How a person treats and behaves around animals says a lot about a person.

It's for this reason I reach out and touch his hand to give it a firm squeeze before I quickly drop my hand again.

"Thank you, on behalf of Buckey," I muse and feel my cheeks heat.

Surprise overtakes his face, but he's unable to say or do anything when there's a woman's voice filling the air. "Is this her, Rourke?"

"Fuck," Rourke rumbles and steps in front of me. "Mom, not now. I've told everyone to stay away from the stables and that includes you. Dad, make her leave."

I take a peek around Rourke to see an older woman along with an older man with the same features and blue eyes as Rourke standing in front of him.

The man shoots me a wink. "Sorry, Eastlynne, but when our son orders the whole MC to stay away all because a woman is coming to visit? Our curiosity shoots through the roof and calls for an investigation to see who the special one is."

Rourke groans and mutters, "You two are ruining things." He firms his tone when he adds, "You've seen her, now go. And no, I won't bring her to the main house for lunch or to meet anyone else. She doesn't do crowds and is here to help me with Buckey. Please leave and make sure everyone else leaves us alone as well."

"Sure thing, Prez," his father rumbles.

His mother gives me a finger wave. "I'm Harlene, this here is my husband, Weston, and you are invited to come and have lunch, dinner, or come and chat with me any time. I'm also a veterinarian and we have a clinic in town if you're looking for a vet. I've heard you own the ranch down the road from here. Well, I do have to say that my daughter, Magdalena, is one of the vets now that I've retired. She's also the one who treated Buckey so if you have any questions or need anything, just let me know."

"Thanks," I murmur and awkwardly give her a finger wave in return.

They slink away and Rourke takes off his Stetson to slide his fingers through his light blond hair before putting it back on. "Sorry, I didn't expect them to barge in like that."

"Because you warned everyone away." The corner of my mouth twitches. "Thank you for that. I do appreciate it and I also understand how it would make your parents curious." Without thinking things through, I blurt out the thought that pops in my head. "You could have planned to have sex in here, though. That would have been awkward to have your parents walk in on that."

Laughter escapes me, but it falls short when my breath catches due to the heat in Rourke's eyes. Shit. My breathing picks up because now I'm thinking about having sex. Strangely enough, the thought doesn't scare me; it's actually very appealing when it involves Rourke.

Double shit. What the hell is wrong with me?