The Rapunzel Rodeo Page 6

  In center was Jason’s breed mark. It was a laurel wreath, touching at its ends at the top of the mark, in raised skin that was pitch black. Around the wreath was a burn scar in the form of multiple thick looped lines that were broken up by thin spaces.

  “It’s a Celtic knot,” said Grandma West. “For our herd, it symbolizes the river, unbroken and around the world. Our herd, River Stone, is an Old World herd. It’s existed for, well, as long as anyone can remember. Our herd stands for perseverance. No matter what life throws our way, we deal with it, as one herd, no matter where we are in the world. The brand is very much Old World as well. It can still be applied in the traditional way.”

  “Which is what?” asked Olivia.

  “Hot brand,” said Jason.

  “You were branded with a branding iron?” asked Olivia.

  “Voluntarily,” said Jason. “I could’ve gone the easy route, gotten the tattoo, but…”

  “But you wanted to be traditional,” said Grandma West, arms crossed.

  “You did it, too,” said Jason, putting his shirt back on.

  “That was different,” Grandma West argued. “At the time, branding was more sanitary than the tattoos. Nowadays, I don’t know. You macho stallions and your brands. At least it looks good.”

  “What was the breed mark?” asked Olivia.

  “Narragansett Pacer,” said Jason.

  “Can’t say I’m familiar with the breed,” Olivia admitted.

  “Most aren’t,” said Grandma West. “It’s extinct in all but shifter lineages.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Olivia. “Extinct?”

  “If nobody breeds a horse breed anymore, it won’t exist anymore,” said Jason. “Breeds evolve, get changed, diluted, but the shifter world and the wild world are two different realms. In the shifter world, there are still Narragansett Pacers. It’s the only world they do exist in.”

  Olivia, Jason, Grandma Larson, and Grandma West kept chatting and knitting. It was mostly Olivia and Jason listening to the two older women talk about their high school glory days. Olivia watched as Jason struggled with his knitting, but he didn’t complain. Whenever his yarn tangled, his needles slipped, or his stitches dropped, he’d just fix what went wrong and try again. The end result was beautiful knitting, made with care.

  “What are you making?” asked Olivia.

  “It’s going to be a patch for a baby’s quilt,” said Jason.

  “There’s a lot of baby knitting tonight,” said Olivia, looking around the room at the items being made in miniature.

  “It’s all for the hospital, dear,” said Grandma Larson.

  “The hospital?” asked Olivia.

  “For the preemies,” Grandma Larson clarified. “The babies that decided to arrive ahead of schedule. They get chilly and need warm, soft items.

  “Oh, I see,” said Olivia.

  “It was the charity cause we picked this year,” explained Grandma Larson. “Last year was cancer patients. This year, it was Jason’s idea to do knitting for preemies.”

  “Really?” asked Olivia. “Why?”

  “My sister,” said Jason.

  “She had a preemie?” asked Olivia softly.

  “No…she was a preemie. I was ten when she was born. My parents were really worried about the pregnancy because there had been earlier issues. It was lucky for us that we were staying with Grandma West and the rest of the herd at the time. While other members of River Stone rushed my mom to the hospital, I stayed by grandma’s side. We went to the waiting room in the maternity ward after picking stuff up for my mom at Grandma’s house. Luckily, my sister’s birth itself was okay. I watched my parents hold her, and at first, I thought they were just holding an empty blanket because she was so small.”

  “Wow,” said Olivia. “I have no idea what that must be like, other than, well, scary.”

  “It was,” Jason said. “But, it was the small things that helped my family through it, including, as you may have guessed, getting knitted goods from the herd to help keep my baby sister warm and cozy. She grew up to be big and strong and healthy, thank goodness, but…there’s lots of families out there that don’t have a herd or a clan or a family that can help them out. That’s who these items will help out the most.”

  Olivia’s vision had gone blurry, and she couldn’t read her hat pattern. A drop fell from her eyes, onto the paper. Jason’s story was just so touching. She would never have imagined the somewhat sarcastic, tough, strong, silent type had this soft, caring side.

  “Thank you for sharing your story with me,” said Olivia.

  “Hey, don’t cry,” said Jason. “Look. It’s nothing, okay? That’s all in the past. Let’s just knit.”

  “Okay,” Olivia said, dabbing away the tears.

  The group finished up for the night and Jason looked at his phone while his grandma packed up.

  “Shit,” cursed Jason.

  “Jason, what did I tell you about that language, young man? You’re around your grandma, her friends, and a pretty girl. Absolutely inappropriate. I’ll have you wash your mouth with the soap in the public bathroom if you aren’t careful,” said Grandma West.

  “We missed our dinner reservation,” said Jason. “Sorry, Olivia. I turned my phone off when I got here and didn’t think to check the time.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Olivia. “We can hit up a drive through on the way back to my place.”

  “Really? You’re fine with that?” asked Jason.

  “I don’t care about the food,” said Olivia. “I’m hungry, I’ll admit that, and I do need to stuff my face with something, preferably something one part fat, one part carb, all parts delicious. Tonight’s date wasn’t about food, though. It was about something more: connecting with people. I made a connection with you tonight. I’m not afraid to admit that…or the fact that right now, the best thing I can think of is a giant strawberry shake with a stack of pancakes at the twenty-four-seven diner near my place.”

  Olivia and Jason headed over to the diner, and that’s what Olivia ordered. While Jason scarfed down a plate of bacon with sausage and didn’t make much conversation with her, she couldn’t stop thinking about the sensitivity he’d shown that night, the vulnerability he’d exposed her to, and the fact he’d shared such a personal story with her. There’d been a lot more to the stallion than had met the eye.

  Olivia and Jason got back to her place. She wanted to take things to the next level but knew that she had to talk to Cayenne first. That didn’t mean she couldn’t get the standard first date first kiss.

  Jason walked Olivia to her door and watched her unlock it.

  “I had a great time tonight,” Olivia said.

  “Greasy diner food and all?” asked Jason.

  “Especially the greasy diner food.”

  Jason leaned in, and Olivia met him halfway. The kiss started out sweet, just a brushing of two sets lips, one pair gliding against the other, but then, Olivia reached up to touch Jason’s hair, and she set off a powder keg of passion.

  Jason reached down to grab Olivia’s waist and lifted her up, curves and all, so that Olivia could wrap her legs around his waist while wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her hands through his hair. All the while, her lips were open, letting in Jason’s chasing tongue which swirled and tasted every last drop of her sweetness.

  Jason broke the kiss to move down to kiss Olivia’s neck.

  Olivia took a breath and forced herself to say, “We should stop.”

  Without skipping a beat, Jason gently put her down.

  “Goodnight, Olivia,” said Jason, tipping the brim of his hat, before turning to disappear back into the night.

  “Every date you’ve had with these shifters has been weird as Hell,” said Cayenne. “At least Jason’s date was somewhat normal…except for the grandmas.”

  “Says the girl who is basically best friends with hers,” said Olivia.

  “That’s different because my grandma is the best grandma,” teased
Cayenne. “Okay. So, you’ve had three dates. What now?”

  “I haven’t picked one,” said Olivia. “They’re all great. I do want to propose something to them.”

  “Let me guess, that you get even more dates and time to choose who you want to be with?” asked Cayenne. “There’s easier ways of getting free meals, honey. Ones that won’t have you jumping off cliffs and getting your feet poked at.”

  “No. I’m talking about a ménage,” said Olivia. “They each acknowledged that their shift can have ménages. Heck, Grandma West was in a frikkin’ ménage. I’m absolutely sure they’re going to be game for it. Why else would they drop all these hints about it?”

  “If there’s one thing I know about shifters, it’s that any little thing can set these boys off,” said Cayenne. “You should ask them all to meet in a public place to discuss it. That way, they’re bound not to cause a scene. But look, what do I know?”

  “That’s a great idea,” said Olivia. “I’ll get it arranged tonight. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Chapter Six

  “Aren’t you supposed to wear those tight pants for dressage?” asked Olivia, motioning over Cayenne’s traditional equestrian outfit. “I don’t get why I’m making you a costume if your sport has a uniform.” The pair was drinking lemonade and sweet tea in the rodeo’s food court, which was open while the rodeo was still being set up. It was easier to hire local restaurants to run the food court than it would be to negotiate a craft service deal. While the rodeo wasn’t technically open to the public, anyone could come in and look around if they so desired. It was Cayenne’s idea to have such a relaxed entry policy. She saw it as free marketing for the rodeo. As it was close to opening day, the various smaller attractions like shop booths and a petting zoo were doing trial runs to see what they’d need to prepare for when the rodeo started for real. They marked down notes about what supplies they’d need the rodeo to supply and what stuff they’d need to bring to set up their booths and exhibits. The rodeo was coming together and was bound to be a success.

  “It’s my rodeo, damn it,” said Cayenne. “And this is Texas. A big event calls for big hair and even bigger costumes. Dressage isn’t a sport. It’s an art, darlin’. Besides…I’m riding Strand. I won’t exactly be galloping around. I’m not even a headlining event. I’m doing this for fun, a little thing you should try.”

  “Me? Doing dressage? Yeah, right,” asked Olivia.

  “I meant having fun,” said Cayenne. “But, speaking of horse riding, you’re going to try out a ménage?”

  “I know I’ve always said I’m a one woman, one man kind of gal, but exceptional times call for exceptional measures,” said Olivia. “What’s the worst that can happen? They aren’t willing to try a ménage? Then we’ll just go back to the drawing board and see what we can do. We’re all mature adults. We can figure this out.”

  “How exactly did you break the news to them?” asked Cayenne.

  “I just said that I’d been seeing three guys, and given I can’t pick one of them, I want to try a ménage,” said Olivia. “They all were amenable, so we’re all meeting up here, today, to discuss things.”

  “You make things sound simple,” said Cayenne.

  “Hey!” shouted Olivia, upon spotting a tall, handsome not-so-stranger. “Richard!”

  “Hey,” Richard said, running up to Olivia and Cayenne. “I’m glad you thought more about what I said about ménages.”

  “It wasn’t all you,” said Cayenne. “But…”

  “But I have to admit, I hadn’t thought about it as seriously until hearing about it straight from the horse’s mouth,” said Olivia. “The other two guys should be here soon.”

  “Are they humans or shifters?” asked Richard.

  “Shifters,” Olivia answered. “Both are horse shifters like you. I think you all know each other.”

  “Olivia, a word?” asked Cayenne.

  Olivia and Cayenne walked a few feet away from Richard while he got a drink.

  “Did you not tell them all about each other?” asked Cayenne.

  “I told them I was interested in a ménage,” said Olivia.

  “That’s not what I mean,” said Cayenne. “Olivia…they’re all horse shifters.”

  “So what?” asked Olivia. “What does that have to do with it?”

  “Okay, I really should’ve made Basil give you a Shifters 101 lesson,” Cayenne said, rubbing her temples. “Maybe I’m worried about nothing. I just think you should’ve told them specifically which other men would be involved in the ménage.”

  “Hello, ladies,” said Richard, approaching the duo of curvy lasses. “Did I miss much?”

  “Nope,” said Cayenne.

  A fourth person approached the trio: a man with black hair wearing a cowboy hat, with broad shoulders and a goofy smile. It was Matthew.

  “Hey,” said Olivia. “Matt, Richard, you two already know each other.”

  Matthew looked over Olivia and at her body language toward Richard. It was clear Richard wasn’t there to see the other curvy girl. He had only been showing an interest in Olivia, and from behind, Matthew had thought Richard was someone else, but now, it became clear Richard was there for the same reason Matthew was. If Matthew hadn’t noticed the body language, the glare from Richard would’ve tipped him off.

  Richard looked at Matthew. There had to be a mistake. There was no way that Olivia was meeting up with this guy on purpose.

  “Yeah…we know each other,” Richard said curtly.

  “Richard,” said Matt, not even bothering to tip his cowboy hat.

  “Awkward,” Cayenne said in a whisper.

  “I…take it that you two don’t like each other,” said Olivia. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Matthew. “You couldn’t have known.”

  A fifth member joined the group. While watching the two horse shifters in front of her stare one another down, Olivia had forgotten she had a third to look out for. Jason came up to the group.

  “Hey, Jason,” said Olivia. “I…think I made a mistake.”

  “Are these two the ones you wanted to start a ménage with?” asked Matthew.

  “Yeah,” said Olivia. “I thought y’all would’ve guessed that given y’all went to Fated Mate Speed Date together. I assumed you were all friends.”

  “Nope,” said Jason. “Just coworkers.”

  “‘Just coworkers’?” asked Richard. “Come on. Be real. We’re part of herds that can’t fucking stand one another.”

  “What do your herds have to do with this?” asked Olivia.

  “Everything,” said Jason. “A herd represents your values. I’d be up for a ménage with other members of my herd, or one with similar values, but not Matt and Richard’s herds. What Richard’s herd, Waxing Moon, tells me is all he cares about is getting ahead. Not important things, like family.”

  “What would someone from River Stone know about family? Y’all are too busy running from your problems to care about anything but yourselves,” Richard said angrily.

  “Typical Waxing Moon,” said Matthew.

  “Says the guy from Prairie Rose,” Jason shot back. “Your herd takes anyone and everyone.”

  “Your herd stands for everything, which means it doesn’t stand for anything,” argued Richard.

  “That’s it,” said Matthew, pushing Richard backward. “I’ve had enough of your sass.”

  “Don’t push me,” Richard argued, pushing Jason back, knocking him into Matthew.

  Matthew punched Richard in the face, and then, all Hell broke loose.

  Olivia had seen shifters like Cayenne’s husband shift before, but she hadn’t ever seen a shifter fight go down. Matthew and Richard shifted within seconds of one another and as soon as they started to shift, Jason shifted into his stallion form as well. As each of the men shifted into the form of his horse, their clothes tore, leather boots breaking at their sturdy steams, their hats flying into the air before hitting ra
ndom spots on the ground.

  In front of Olivia were three large horses. One had a tawny buckskin coat and a black mane with amber brown eyes, glowing with rage. She recognized the horse, as she’d ridden him before. It was Matthew. Near him was a horse, all black, with a sleek coat and sapphire blue eyes that reminded her of an angry ocean. That had to be Richard. That meant that the last horse, a gingery sorrel-colored beast with eyes of raging emerald, was Jason.

  “Get back,” ordered Cayenne, pulling Olivia backward with her. “You don’t want to get in the middle of a shifter fight.”

  Olivia watched as the three horses fought. First, Richard attacked Mathew, lifting his front legs into the air, standing upright on his back legs, his firm flanks supporting his muscular body as he brought his hooves down around Matthew’s windpipe. Matthew flared his nostrils angrily, letting out a loud neigh as Matthew got on his back legs and pushed Richard back. It was almost like watching fencing, the two giant beasts poking at one another with their hooves as if they were fighting with rapiers.

  Richard turned and managed to push Matthew back, pressing two hooves against his shoulder, knocking Matthew backward, into the food stands which the workers had abandoned once the shifter fight had started. While Matthew had a tawny coat the color of deerskin and Richard’s shift was all black, they both shared black points. Their manes, tails, parts of their legs, and a few other parts of their bodies were black, so as the two horses tumbled over one another, it was hard to see where one stallion stopped and the other werehorse began.

  Another neighing broke out. It came from Jason who ran up to fight Matt while Richard was still on the ground. Jason wasn’t about to let the other two have all the fun. He had to prove to his mate that he was the alpha male, the strongest, the most dominant of the horse shifters vying for her heart. His coat, a reddish chestnut color, and his mane, a gingery blonde, distinguished him from the other two horses, but like them, his shift was massive and powerful.

  Jason butted Matt in the abdomen with his head. It was a poor choice of move, a bullheaded one, as Jason ended up doing more damage to himself than to Matt, who just got angry. Matt turned and, seeing Jason was dizzy, he took advantage of the situation and pushed Jason back with his forelegs. Jason turned. Matt thought he must be turning tail, so Matt turned back to Richard, who was getting up from the ground, but letting Jason leave his eyesight was Matt’s first mistake. His second? Not bracing himself upon feeling the impact of Jason’s back legs against his hindquarters. Matt fell backward, into the food court furniture, which, like the booths, had nearly been ground into dust from the fight.