Page 4 of Stables Spurs Suits
NOT ALL THOSE WHO BARE THEIR ALL SEEK TO BE SEEN
The last thing I expected to see when I walked into the stables was the city slicker petting Loki. I’ve been working with Loki since he arrived on the ranch. He’s deaf and spooks easily, usually resulting in him falling to the ground stiff as a board, like he’s playing possum, and the silly thing will often stay that way until whoever scared him leaves his line of sight. I’ve really been the only one he’s become comfortable with. Skye’s gotten close a few times, usually by keeping out of his view, but there’s Matthew, rubbing down his neck, Loki nudging him for more pets as he does with me.
“So, how did you manage this?” I ask. Loki’s head snaps in my direction, and he stomps his foot excitedly.
Matthew checks behind him. “The doors were open, I just… I was looking for you. I got you a present.”
“What?”
“Well, it’s actually a present for the horses more than you, but you’ll get use out of them too. Here,” he says, kneeling to fumble through a box on the ground. He pulls out a wooden plaque and passes it over. Burned into the wood is the name Queenie and the Beaker Brothers logo. I run my fingers over the indentation of the text, and the scent of ash and rich linseed oil fills my nose.
“You did this?”
“Yeah, I figured with the new additions and the state of the old…” His gaze drifts to the name plate on Loki’s stall, and my cheeks burn. I’ve made all the name plates for the horses at Beaker Brothers since I arrived here. They’re not fancy like this one. Usually just a scrap of fence paling or a piece of a plank that I found under the house, the names painted on in whatever color paint I had lying around. Which is why a lot of them are blue. We built that barn not long after I got here. I have to admit, though, the letters on most are faded too far to see the names clearly. But I never really minded. I don’t need the name plates to know the horses.
“I guess this will help the others,” I say, passing it back.
“If you don’t like them, we don’t have to use them,” Matthew says, wrapping the plate back up in the bubble wrap.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like them.”
“You didn’t exactly look excited to see them, though, either.”
“They’re name plates for horses that can’t read.”
“How do you know they can’t read?”
I let out a chuckle.
“Are you saying they can?”
“I don’t know, I’m not a horse, but they seem pretty smart. They go into the same stall every night, right? So they know which one is theirs.”
“Recognizing their stall isn’t exactly the same thing as reading.”
He stands, and Loki doesn’t even flinch when he steps forward and starts gliding his hand down his long neck.
So weird.
“What is reading if not recognizing a familiar pattern?”
I pause for a moment, thinking that over before conceding.
“I guess you’re right.”
“I know I am. So, do you want them, or should I send them back?”
“You can put them up. There’s a drill in the tool shed,” I say, and he turns to me, eyebrows pinched in the middle.
“You want me to install them?”
“You bought them.”
“Technically, Connor bought them.”
“So I should go ask Connor to put them up?” I say, turning on my heel.
“No,” he calls, and I pause, glancing back over my shoulder. “I just. I haven’t used a drill before,” he explains.
