Page 1 of The Influencer and The Introvert
Chapter 1
Colt
Aman can never own too many fishing rods, tackle boxes, and non-stick fry pans.
At least that’s my rule. Some people say cast iron is the way to go, but I’ve never liked it. My cupboards sag under the weight of fry pans in all sizes purchased on sale, because clearly, I have a love for discounted cookware.
After cracking an egg in my favorite pan and turning on my radio for the news and weather, I toss two slices of bread in the toaster and peek out the window of my new apartment above the town bookstore, High Noon Reads. I love watching the sunlight bathe the town every morning. My view from the window isn’t clear enough to actually watch the sun poke over the mountains, but I can still make out the muted glow of the sun’s rays filling the streets.
I don’t know why I love it so much, but I do.
Watching the sunrise is one of my favorite things, and sometimes I like to arrive at work early just to watch the light bathe Snow Creek Ranch first thing. There’s no better feeling than watching the sun greet you each day to remind you of the gift of your beating heart. A new day brings new things, and asmuch as I hate straying from my routine, I can admit new things are sometimes good.
Hard, but good.
Like the time I listened to Chris at Your Fly is Down tackle shop and tried an olive-colored Woolly Bugger while fishing for trout instead of my favorite generic white fly. That was a good change. Took me forever to try it, but when I did, it all worked out, and I had my most successful fly-fishing outing in years.
When Uncle Albert told me he needed to move to a retirement home in the city, that was a hard change. I know he needs to be closer to his doctors, but boy, did I struggle with that. Selling our old home and moving into my apartment was the hardest thing I had to do after burying my mother. Maybe my new apartment will be the good to come out of that change. There’s always good in every situation; I truly believe that, but sometimes I take longer to find it than I’d like.
The radio crackles, and a nasal voice reads the weather report. A gorgeous spring day is on the way, and that will make my job a lot nicer. The horses can be groomed and enjoy the pasture while I deep clean the stalls to prepare for the trail rides and fishing excursions to come soon at Snow Creek Ranch.
After eating, I wash my dishes and finish getting dressed. Boxes still line the hallway of the apartment, and I really should get more settled here. Rummaging for things every night in all the boxes is growing old. Maybe tonight I’ll get my fishing rods and tackle organized. Then I can tell Uncle Albert that I’m making progress with unpacking.
He’d like that.
After locking up, I wave to the empty bookstore. Aubrey, the owner and my landlord, isn’t in, but it just feels right to acknowledge him, even if he’s not actually there.
Walking to my parking space, the lights flash on my truck when I get closer, picking up the signal from the key fob still inmy pocket. New vehicles are full of so many automated gadgets. It knows I’m the owner, just with the key in my pocket, for gosh sakes. After sliding behind the wheel, I shake my head as I stare at the controls. The interior is like a spaceship, and it took me a bit to figure out the radio on my new truck. I’m still not sure how to program my favorite stations, but at least I can turn it on.
Uncle Albert insisted that if I were driving to visit him more often, I should use the money I’d saved to buy a new vehicle. I know he spoke from more than just concern about my truck’s age, and while I didn’t want to part with my old one…I wanted to make sure he didn’t worry about me so much.
After tuning my radio to the easy listening station that settles my brain, I pull into the small street in front of the bookstore. Signaling, even though there isn’t a soul around to see it, I turn toward Main Street before hitting the highway to the ranch.
The peaceful highway drive and budding spring scenery wake me up in a way coffee can’t. This drive is a favorite activity next to watching the sunrise and working at the ranch. Nothing would make me want to leave here.
Not even the announcement by Jesse, the ranch’s new foreman, that the ranch was expanding to bring in more business. I’m not afraid of hard work, and I like people just fine. It just takes me a while to know and be comfortable with them.
Heck, when Gunner first arrived, all sharp blue eyes, tattoos, and muscles for days, I don’t think I looked directly at him for the first week. But he’s a lot like me with his quiet ways, and now one of my closest friends. It just took us a bit to get there.
After parking my truck next to the main barn, I hop out and open the heavy wooden door. The lights flicker and come tolife after I flip the switches, and a dozen horse heads poke over the stall doors to say good morning.
“Good morning, beauties. Today, you’re all going to enjoy the pasture first thing. It’s a gorgeous spring day.” I walk down the aisle of the barn, scratching ears and petting necks. When I reach the end, I slide open the door that leads to the pasture and work my way back, opening the stalls. Each horse steps out carefully and turns to the open door at the end. Ears twitch, and happy huffs sound as they all exit into the fresh air of a Colorado early spring day.
“You’re already here and working, Colt. You make the rest of us look bad.” Gunner enters the barn, and I turn toward him. His kind smile softens his sometimes stern face. If I didn’t work with and know him, I’d probably cross the street to avoid him.
“I’m just an early bird is all. You know that.”
“The earliest of birds,” he says with a small laugh, his blue eyes sparkling with humor. “I think you race the sun over the mountains every day, Colt.”
Shrugging, I smile and try not to be embarrassed over something so minor as being up before the sun. I was never one to sleep late and I don’t see that ever changing.
“If you need help with anything in here today, let me know. I have to do some bullshit paperwork for Jesse this morning, so I’ll be in the staff building for the next bit.”
Gunner hates it when he needs to do anything inside. I can’t really blame him. If I had a horse like his mustang, Rogue, I’d want to spend every second outside with my horse, too.
“Sure thing, Gunner. If you go out to check the trails today, I’d love to join you.”
“If we get the work for today done, absolutely. I’ll let you know.”
