Swift and Saddled: A Rebel Blue Ranch Novel
Swift and Saddled: Chapter 21

I was halfway in love with Ada Hart, and I had no clue what to do about it. I’d known it for a while, but today I passed the point of no return. We were still in bed, tangled up in my sheets and in each other, and I would’ve stayed there for the rest of the night if I hadn’t felt her shiver against me.

Shit.

Neither of us had had a chance to shower yet. We’d been too busy getting busy, I guess. It was only a matter of time before the cold caused by the rain caught up to us.

I pulled Ada closer to me and brought my comforter up around her shoulders. I wanted to soak in as much time with her here as I could. I didn’t know when she’d let me do this again.

“Are you cold?” I asked.

“I usually am,” she said. “But yes.” Dammit. I couldn’t let her freeze to death on me.

“Ready for that bath?” I asked as I kissed her hair.

“Only if you get in with me.” Her voice was playful, and I’d only ever heard her use that voice with me. It made my heart swell. It put ideas in my head—ideas about what we were and where we were going—that would surely send her running in an instant.

To be fair, they scared me too. It was weird to feel something that you’d convinced yourself you never would.

“That can be arranged,” I said. I kissed her one more time—soft and slow—before I peeled myself out of the bed. “Stay here. I’ll get everything ready.”

Ada rolled to her side to look at me. She had her head propped on her hand, and the sheets were covering most of her body, but not all of it.

I couldn’t have dreamed her better.

The top drawer of my dresser was open, so I grabbed a pair of boxers and slid them on. I took one last look at Ada, who was smiling at me in a way that made my heart feel like wild horses in my chest before making my way to my bathroom.

The power was still out. My phone was where I’d left it on the bathroom counter, so I checked it. It was a little past eight and almost fully dark out.

I had a bunch of texts from my family. The first one was from my dad.

Dad: Came to help Hank and Teddy prep for the storm. Staying here for the time being. Be safe.

Then there were several in a group chat with my siblings.

Emmy: roll call.

Gus: Riley and I are home and safe.

Luke: Here, sugar.

Emmy: Luke, you are literally right next to me.

Luke: Come closer.

Gus: Yuck.

Teddy: Me and the dads are all good!

Gus: Double yuck.

Teddy: (middle finger emoji)

Gus: What is she even doing in this message thread.

*Teddy Andersen has removed Gus Ryder from the chat*

*Emmy Ryder has added Gus Ryder to the chat*

Emmy: Wes? You good?

Emmy: Paging Weston. Hello?

Gus: I’m sure he’s fine. Wes, tell our baby sister your fine.

Teddy: *you’re*

Gus: WHY ARE YOU IN HERE

Luke: Seriously, Wes. Text us back. Emmy is freaking out.

The last message was from a few minutes ago.

Emmy: Wes, if you don’t respond in the next ten minutes, I’m calling the National Guard.

I didn’t need that, so I quickly typed out a response.

Wes: All good over here.

Teddy: HE LIVES.

Teddy: Is Ada with you?

Teddy: (emoji)

Wes: Yeah, she’s fine too.

Emmy: Well, I guess everything makes sense now.

Teddy: Use protection! Have fun! Light some candles!

Luke: Nice.

I put my phone down and tried to wipe the smile off my face. I was just so fucking happy about today. I started running the bath, then went into Ada’s bathroom. I knew Emmy had some bath salts. I liked to use them after a long day—they were good for muscle soreness.

I grabbed the bubble bath that was the same scent too—eucalyptus or some shit—and went back to my bathroom and started pouring the salts and the bubble bath into the tub.

Teddy’d actually given me a good idea about the candles—the power was out, after all. I knew we had tea lights in the emergency kit—I checked to make sure the bath wasn’t in danger of overflowing before I headed out to the hall to replace them.

First thing I saw when I opened the hall closet: a massive bag of tea lights and a lighter.

Jackpot.

A few minutes and a number of flaming candles that would probably give a firefighter an aneurysm later, I went back to Ada.

She was right where I’d left her—looking like a fucking goddess in my bed.

I knelt on the bed and started crawling up her body, placing kisses and playful bites wherever I could. I gave her waist a squeeze, and she giggled.

Ada wasn’t a giggly woman, but she giggled for me, and it made me feel like I could run through a wall. In a good way.

“That tickled,” she said, and I had no choice but to squeeze her waist again. She kicked and laughed. “You’re such an asshole,” she said with a smile. I stopped tickling her and planted a kiss on her mouth.

“We’ll see if that’s what you think after you see the setup I’ve got going for us in the bathroom.” I got off the bed and scooped her up, sheets and all. I was rewarded with another laugh, and I couldn’t believe my luck.

When we reached the bathroom, I set Ada down on her feet. She let the sheets fall as she took in the scene—the bubble bath, the candles. If I’d had rose petals, I would’ve sprinkled those, too, but I couldn’t win them all.

“Damn,” she said. “I’m going to need the power to go out more often.” Same, I thought. She linked her fingers through mine and pulled me behind her to the bathtub. It was big, so there was plenty of room for the two of us.

She was about to step in, but I stopped her. I bent down and touched the water first to make sure it wasn’t too hot. An expression I hadn’t seen before flashed across her face when I did it, but I didn’t know what it meant and it wasn’t there long enough for me to try to figure it out.

“All good,” I said, and she stepped in and lowered herself into the water. I shed my boxers and got in behind her. I pulled her back against my chest and both of us relaxed into the water.

She let out a soft moan, and it was like music to my ears. “This is perfect.”

So are you, I thought.

Ada and I stayed in the bath until the water started to cool, and then I made her get out because I wasn’t about to let her get chilled again on my watch.

I left her to get dressed in her room, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, but while we were drying off, Waylon had come to get me, so I needed to check on Loretta.

Loretta.

The woman who told me she didn’t like country music named a calf after Loretta Lynn today.

Waylon led me back to the garage, where Loretta was still in her bed but wide awake now. When the calf saw me, she stood on wobbly legs. That was good. She wasn’t lethargic and she had good reflexes.

“Hey, baby girl,” I said as I approached. “You hungry?” Loretta was young. Really young. She would probably need a milk replacement before she transitioned all the way to solid feed. It tugged at my chest when a calf got separated from her dam, but it was a fact of ranch life. There were a million reasons that it happened—especially in first-time heifers, and there wasn’t really anything we could do to prevent it.

But we could take care of the calf. Bottle calves weren’t uncommon at Rebel Blue, and I secretly loved having them. I liked having something to take care of. I went to the back of the garage, which was stocked with a fair amount of farm supplies—not as much as our stables, but enough.

I set up one of the camp stoves and boiled some water in a kettle. I let it sit until I could touch it to my wrist comfortably before mixing in the milk replacement and shaking it up. I settled back in with Loretta and started trying to get her to take the bottle. This could be an adjustment for calves, so it took a little finessing and a lot of patience.

As Loretta finally latched on to the bottle, I heard the door from the house to the garage open. My heart kicked in my chest because there was only one person it could be.

Ada had changed into a hoodie and sweatpants and was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She paused for a second when she saw me with Loretta on my lap. “The way you look right now is enough for me to want to drag you back upstairs and have my way with you,” she said. “Are you seriously shirtless and bottle-feeding a baby cow right now?”

I winked at her and she groaned, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Come sit with me,” I said. She sat down with her back against the wall. Waylon made his way over to her and set his head on her lap and she started stroking his head.

“Is that just milk in there?” Ada asked, gesturing to the bottle.

I shook my head. “It’s a milk replacement—it’s like human baby formula but for calves.”

“Every day is a school day,” she murmured, and then was quiet.

“You okay?” I asked, starting to worry that she had already started running from me in her head.

She nodded. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” I said truthfully.

“It’s about…” She hesitated. “Depression,” she said after a minute. Ah. That explained the hesitation. People felt weird talking about it, but I didn’t. It was just as much a part of my life as my family, my hobbies, my dreams, and I tried to talk about it the way I would talk about any of those things—with respect and care.

“Go on,” I said, trying to make sure my voice was gentle.

“Do you”—she paused again, and I could see her chewing her words before they came out—“feel that way all the time?” It was a good question.

“No,” I said. “It hasn’t been as bad the past couple of years. I found a routine that works for me—medication, therapy, work—all of that makes me feel better. Waylon does too. I need him.” I thought back to when I was at my lowest. I used to have a hard time with change. It made me unsteady. I also like having things to take care of, and for my entire life up until Emmy went to college, it was her. I think both Gus and I felt a specific sort of pressure to look out for Emmy, more than we would’ve felt if our mom was around. Gus protected her—in a very literal sense of the word—and I was just there for her.

Growing up, Emmy didn’t want to stay in Meadowlark any longer than she had to. It wasn’t a surprise when she picked an out-of-state college, but I missed her while she was gone. It was like Gus and I didn’t really know what to do when she wasn’t around. My identity has always been who I am in relation to my siblings, so when one of them was gone, my entire being was thrown out of whack.

Plus, I’ve always had big feelings, so when I felt sad, lonely, or hopeless, it was substantial and…scary. “It was really bad after Emmy left for college, but my dad and Gus were here. That was before I really knew what depression was. I had felt milder versions of it before, but I couldn’t put a name to it. I just felt bad.

“It was my dad who suggested I see someone, and I’m happy he did. That’s also when I got Waylon.” I went to the pound to volunteer and came home with a tiny ball of white fluff. He’d been abandoned at the fire station. As soon as I saw him, I knew he was mine. I’ll be grateful to that dog for the rest of my life. He is my tether. It doesn’t matter what is going on, when Waylon’s big head replaces its way under my hand, I feel better—at least for a minute.

“I feel stupid saying it now, but I honestly didn’t expect feeling better to be so…hard, I guess. And right now, I’m okay,” I said. “Right now, what I’m doing works, but I expect that there will come a day when I feel the ache in my bones—like the kind my dad feels before a storm—and what I’m doing now won’t work, and I’ll have to start over. It terrifies me.”

Ada laid her head on my shoulder. She didn’t say anything—she didn’t have to. For years, I had desperately wanted someone to just…be…with me. To sit next to me while the power was out and weather the storm together.