Talk About… Rivalry (Rockwood Valley Omegaverse #2)

4. Sidney

Sidney

T he black horse huffed at me from across the training yard. Her inky eyes seemed to bore into me, telling me that I was wasting my time and energy here.

Good luck, girl, I’m as stubborn as you are.

This horse and I had spent days like this. Her inching closer each day while I threw in treats, but never quite giving in.

Honestly, it gave me time off from tossing bales of hay into the truck and mucking out stalls. Dad had ranch hands for that kind of work anyway, he just liked to keep me humble, I guess.

“You’ll have to give in eventually,” I called out, laughing as she snorted at me as if to tell me the opposite.

There was something about this horse that was growing on me. Maybe I could simply relate as a strong, stubborn woman. Not to mention her sass was unmatched.

Setting aside my sketchbook I stood up and moved toward the fence, holding a hand out with an apple in it. After a few days most horses wouldn’t be ready but I just quirked an eyebrow at her in challenge, wondering if fighting fire with fire would work here.

Dammit, just when I said I wasn’t going to give into these horses anymore and wanted far from this ranch, here was a horse ready to draw me right back in.

The horse lowered her head as if she was studying me, her steps stiff as she moved a little closer. I kept my body relaxed, but still as she continued to inch her way to me. My arm started to ache but I kept my muscles locked tight and eyes locked on her, watching her watch me, both of us a little uneasy.

I was so close to giving up when she took a bigger step. Now she was close enough I could feel the warmth of her exhalation on my skin. My heart picked up speed, pounding in my chest as I forced the calm mask to stay in place.

She could easily bite me and I was ready to yank it away if I needed to.

My lungs burned from lack of oxygen but I didn’t even take a breath as I watched her lean her head down and carefully, but gently, remove the apple from my hand. The moment it was clutched in her teeth, she ran off, chewing it from across the yard.

I sucked in a shaky breath, my head swimming from lack of oxygen and I swayed slightly on my feet as I watched her. A startled laugh escaped me and I shook my head as I wiped my hand on my worn jeans and stepped back.

The breeze ruffled the pages of my sketchbook and stirred my hair around my shoulders. I sucked in a deep lungful, the familiar scent of mountain air and the ranch soothing the anxiety all at once.

As much as I said I hated it, I truly did love this place. It was home.

“Who is this?” Uncle Dale’s voice had me whipping around, jaw dropping in horror as he flipped to the next page, eyebrows rising as he looked down at the new face on the page. “Or they, rather.”

I moved so fast he let out a startled sound, then barked out a laugh as I clutched it to my chest.

“No one,” I said, my voice intense enough he raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, girl, that’s believable,” he snorted before letting it drop. He nodded at the horse behind me and stepped closer to the fence, which also meant, the horse stepped further away. “How is she doing?”

“She took an apple from my hand today then ran away to eat it,” I said with a shrug. “I have a feeling she’s going to take time.”

“And I have a feeling this is going to be your horse, Sidney,” he said. “She had a pretty bad life and needs someone she can trust. She won’t be any good for riding.”

On that we could both agree. For now at least. What this horse deserved was a quiet life in a place like this, but my uncle and dad didn’t just keep horses around for no reason. They boarded them or rode them, and she wouldn’t be used for either.

I glanced at Uncle Dale. “What happens if she can’t be used for lessons then?”

He shot me a look that said I knew the answer. “Then we sell her after she’s calmed down some.”

My stomach churned at the thought but he wasn’t finished.

“Unless someone claims her.” He tapped his hand on the fence before pulling a rolled packet of papers from his back pocket. “Thought you might want to know more about Queen of the Void, here. This is everything they gave me.”

Uncle Dale walked away as I glanced down at the papers in my hand. He hadn’t gotten far when I called after him, not ready to let this go.

“Did you buy her just to keep me here?”

He laughed. “Sid, there’s no keeping a girl like you. We all know you’re destined to leave this ranch one day. Just don’t go far, you’ll still have family here, and probably a horse that depends on you.”

It wasn’t the first time my uncle and I had talked about my future. They owned this ranch, loved it, but I never took the interest they wanted me to. The issue was that they were both getting up there in age, and while the ranch hands kept things running, we all knew that it would one day be passed on to me.

The thought of selling this place rubbed me the wrong way, but that would be many years down the road. Maybe it wouldn’t just be a decision I handled, but one we faced as a pack.

Maybe.

It was all just wishful thinking at this point.

Sitting back down on the grass, I started flipping through Queenie’s papers. My heart broke at the notes that she was taken from her original owners and rehabilitated for sale. The list of possible abuse made me so angry the paper crinkled under my grip.

How could anyone hurt them like that?

“Don’t worry, Queenie,” I said, glancing up at her. She turned my way and her ears flicked as if she were listening. “You won’t suffer here, I can promise you that. Never again, sweet girl.”

She stamped one foot but it was half-hearted at best. A tear slipped down my cheek but I just wiped it away before collecting my things. I’d sat here long enough tonight, and she’d already been fed and my uncle could handle things from here.

I needed a break.

Of course, my father had never been able to read when I was on the edge and called me over the moment I was within his sights.

“Sidney!” he shouted. “I need you to run up to the house for me. Got something I need from the attic.”

My eyebrows rose at the request. He never sent me up there, in fact, it was generally off limits. Stuff my mom left behind when she left us.

“What’s up there?” I asked when I finally reached him.

He stared down at me with his pale green eyes. His expression was as stoic as always but he swallowed hard and let out a breath.

“There’s a box of my mama’s old books. Can you find it for me? Dale and I were talkin’ about giving them up. We don’t need them and the librarian stopped by again to ask after donations for the annual book sale. Figured I could contribute this time ‘round.”

“Okay,” I said, my voice unsure as I glanced up at the house.

“You alright?” The question was even stranger than the request. I couldn’t remember a single time in my life that my father had asked about me like that.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, stumbling over the words.

“The house won’t bite,” he said, voice a bit sad before he gave me an unreadable look, then walked away.

“What the hell?” I muttered to myself before walking toward the main house. My hands shook and my stomach churned as I reached the porch. I stopped, hand on the knob, taking a breath before entering.

This was the house I grew up in, but I hated being in there and avoided it at all costs. Most of my meal prep was done over at Mama Whitaker’s place. That kitchen was full of warmth and life.

My eyes cast over the faded yellow walls and worn down furniture. There wasn’t a single piece that didn’t have a nick or tear in it somewhere. It smelled of cedar and tobacco, the air stale and a bit musty. There was so much history within these walls, I just wish I was a welcomed part of it.

I’d never felt settled here, accepted. I was the daughter when he needed a son. The reminder his mate had left us and this town behind.

Yet, I was out there every day keeping this farm running right alongside him.

What I needed was to not let the memories drag me down. Not after already being emotionally drained from reading that long, awful list of atrocities against Queenie.

With a shaky breath I started for the attic door, digging my phone out of my pocket as I walked. Avery answered in two rings, my best friend was always there for me when I needed her, even if I never really let her see this side of me often.

“What’s up?” she asked. There was clanking behind her like she was in the middle of something.

“If you’re busy we can talk later,” I offered.

“Nah, you called instead of texting, Sid. What’s wrong?”

“Do I call that little?” I asked, huffing out a laugh.

“Talk, woman,” she growled, though it held little heat. “Don’t make me go get my Mama.”

“Nothing, I’m just digging through Dad’s attic to find some old box of books.”

“Ah, I know you hate that house,” she said gently. “Want me to head over? No one should dig through old memories alone.”

“No, you can’t waddle up these steps, Avery,” I teased. Honestly, it felt silly to need a rescue for something so simple. “Just tell me what you’re working on and keep me company.”

If she heard the pleading in my voice she didn’t call me on it. Instead, Avery started rambling on about her life. I listened as I slowly walked up the stairs, the single bulb overhead casting a soft light over the old wooden stairs. The dust was so heavy on the stairs that I was leaving footprints behind.

How long had it been since anyone had been up here?

I doubted the librarian wanted anything I would find up here.

At one time there had been a path, but a few overfilled boxes were in the way. I grunted as I shifted them aside, sneezing as a cloud of dust stirred thanks to my not-so-gentle treatment of the boxes. A picture fell out and I crouched down to pick it up.

The family in the picture looked like strangers. I recognized my mom right away. She was a pretty omega. We shared the same chestnut hair and our faces were a similar shape, but that was where the similarities ended. I looked more like my dad than her.

Dad wasn’t smiling, but the corner of his mouth was tipped up slightly, making him seem almost gentle. His eyes were locked on her as she smiled widely at the camera. I was between them, a cute smile on my younger self’s face.

If only she knew.

My eyes fluttered closed as I tried to push all of those awful thoughts away.

“Sidney!” Avery’s shout startled me enough I dropped the photo, the glass shattering on impact.

“Shit,” I cursed. “Sorry.”

Not wanting to cut myself I scooted the shards away with my foot and kept moving.

“Woman, talk to me or I’m climbing my pregnant ass up those stairs to join you,” Avery warned me.

“What’s wrong?” I recognized Maverick’s voice and bit back a groan. Great, that’s just what I needed.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Just found an old photo and accidentally dropped it. I’m making my way further back. I’m sure Gran’s stuff is not close to the front and this place is a hoarder’s paradise.”

Muffled voices filled the air as she covered the phone and hissed at Maverick. I couldn’t make out what was said, so I ignored them both as I continued further into the dusty attic.

When I reached an old table I paused again. There were piles of old leather and an array of tools I couldn’t really make sense of. Stepping closer, I inspected the box resting on top to find some gorgeous satchels and even a few custom bridles inside.

“Apparently, Gran did leatherwork,” I said, a bit surprised and more than a little intrigued. Dad had mentioned a time or two I was a lot like her but I didn’t know she was artistic, too.

“That’s so cool,” Avery said. “Did you find something?”

“Yeah, a whole workbench. She’s got tools, leather, and some completed pieces. I know she ended up with bad arthritis as she got older and probably packed all this away.

“You should steal it and take it back to your place. You’re always picking up new hobbies,” Avery mused.

I considered her words for a moment. Maybe connecting to someone in my family, even in a distant way, would be healing. There was a fair chance I would never try it, but she was right, I loved to try new things and this could be fun.

Glancing around I spotted a half empty box and pulled the old blankets from inside before loading up Gran’s things and carrying it back to the stairs, leaving them there. I’d have to ask my dad if he minded first anyway.

Now that I knew where her stuff was, it didn’t take me long to find the box of books. Thankfully this one was labeled. I grunted as I picked it up, the old romance novels weighing more than I thought.

Dad was waiting outside when I made it to the porch. I dropped the box on the bench so he could load it up and take it into town. He heard the screen door slam and worked his way over to me.

“Find it?”

“Yes,” I said, pointing at the box. “Right there. Actually, I found her old leatherworking stuff, too. Mind if I take it back to my place so I can mess around with it?”

It was there so fast then gone again I almost convinced myself I’d made it up, but I swear that man almost smiled.

“Go ahead.” With that he turned away and headed back for the stables. I didn’t question it further as I retrieved the box and carried it home.

If nothing else, it would make one hell of a distraction.