Seventeen-year-old Chloe Matthews is done with guys, done with her ex, and done with the cowboys of the Grand Teton Mountains. She refuses to get hurt again.
All that matters now are the horses. Every horse Chloe helps is another piece of herself pu...
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Buck Brannaman Flags
The next morning, I parked in Gabi's long front driveway and took a quick glance at my eyes in the rearview mirror. The dark circles were still there. Thank you, lack of sleep. I slid out of the truck and pulled my horse-training flag out of the back.
"Hey!" Gabi called as she raced out the front door and down the steps. She slowed when she saw the flag in my hand. "What is that?"
"A Buck Brannaman flag."
She crossed her arms. "You are not going to beat my horse."
"Of course not." While the flag looked kind of like a golf club, the handle was soft and pliable and had a flag on the end instead of a club. Sometimes people mistook it for something harmful, but it was a gentle training tool. I tapped Gabi on the shoulder with it and the handle bounced right off.
"Oh." She giggled. "It's as soft as a sock."
"Yes, it's just an extension of my hand, to help build the horse's confidence before I move in closer." I patted my hoodie pocket. "This and Twizzlers. My two best training tools."
"Twizzlers?"
I smiled. "They love them."
"Good to know." She motioned for me to follow as we passed a tidy ranch-style house and fenced-in pastures. "Oh, by the way," she said as she raised her eyebrows. "You know you got to watch your back, right?"
"What? Why?" My arms got that prickly feeling as I glanced around.
"Girl." She popped a pink bubble between her teeth. "You're new, so I'll allow the naiveté. Once. Jack's the town's golden boy, the most popular up-and-coming trainer around. You think he wants competition?"
"Oh, that." I exhaled in relief. And wondered if the girl was ever without a piece of gum.
"Personally, I don't care for the way he trains," she said.
"How's that?"
"A bit harsh, to be honest."
Heat surged through the middle of my body. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Well." She tilted her head. "He doesn't hurt the horses, but let's just say he doesn't have much of a bedside manner."
"That I believe." Hope filled my chest. Bedside manner was my strong point.
"His brother was better," Gabi said. "I'm sure some people feel the same. They just won't say it out loud."
"Jack has a brother?"
"Um." Gabi concentrated on opening the pasture gate and then re-latching it behind us. "He did."
