Horses (AU)
Bruce Wayne hummed along with the country music coming from the radio as he drove down the road past one farm after another. They all seemed to look alike until he began passing this particular farm. There were sprawling hills, pristine white fences that seemed to stretch for miles with horses that grazed on the bright green grass. It was a picturesque scene that seemed to have leaped straight out of a magazine.
While it was similar to other horse farms, this one stood out as a step above all the rest. Great time, money, and attention had been spent on every single detail and aspect of the ranch from the perfect fences to the landscape…and this was his new home.
Turning right, he took his time diving up the long driveway lined with blooming magnolia trees, his elbow resting on the window frame. The wind that blew through the open window ruffled his jet-black hair, causing him to rake his fingers back through it in a futile effort to tame it.
A large plantation house seemed to suddenly burst into view, taking his breath away despite having seen quite a few of them in his thirty-five years. The historic home was pristine, the grounds immaculately well-kept and the flowers perfectly maintained. He didn't think there was a single weed or a dead bloom on the entire property.
This was Birch Haven.
He still couldn't believe that he'd gotten the job as their new horse trainer. He'd been working with horses since his teens, but he'd never worked on a farm quite this vast before. Birch Haven was a huge step that would either make him famous in his profession or send him packing back into the land of obscurity.
He was determined to avoid that outcome at all costs.
The farm appeared to be buzzing with activity as he drew near to a large barn. He'd responded to an ad for an experienced horse trainer, believing that he didn't have a snowball's chance of getting the job. Then, he'd received the call from the ranch manager telling him that he had gotten the job and his whole world changed. He still thought it was some kind of dream.
The only thing that he knew about Birch Haven was that the farm was owned by a wealthy widow, making him anxious to find out what he was getting himself into. Who exactly was going to be riding these horses that he was going to be training?
Parking his beat-up pickup truck near the barn, Bruce grabbed his Gotham Knights baseball cap and slipped it on before exiting. He didn't make it more than twenty feet before he was greeted by a little boy in a plaid shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots.
"Who are you, mister?" he demanded to know with furrowed brow, looking up at him with squinted eyes due to the brightness of the afternoon sun.
"I'm Bruce," he introduced himself, amused. "Who are you?"
"Rex," he proudly stated, offering his hand to shake. "It means king."
Bruce shook the little boy's hand, his lips curving into a lop-sided smile. "Nice to meet you, Rex," he replied. "Are you a real king?"
"Nope," Rex responded, puffing out his chest. "I'm a real live cowboy."
"I've never met a real cowboy before," Bruce informed him.
Rex tilted his head as he appraised the stranger for a long moment. "You know I'm not supposed to talk to people that I don't know, but you seem awfully nice. Are you here for a job?"
"I am," he confirmed. "I'm the new horse trainer."
"You can really train them?" Rex questioned him. "The last trainer thought she could train them, but I don't think she knew what she was doing."
"Really?" Bruce asked with a frown. "What makes you say that?"
"She stood like this all the time," he told him, standing with his hands on his hips.
Bruce bit back a chuckle as he watched the little boy. "And that means she doesn't know what she's doing?"
"She cussed a lot too," he continued. "Mom said I can't repeat what she said."
"Rex!"
Bruce looked up to see a pretty young woman walking towards them with a clipboard in hand and an air of utter exasperation consuming her. She had her red hair pulled back into a ponytail and striking green eyes. It was obvious she was someone who was in charge around here.
"I'm sorry," she apologized as she snatched hold of Rex's hand. "My son thinks that he manages the entire ranch. I'm Shayera Stewart."
"It's alright," Bruce assured her. "We were just getting to know each other. I'm Bruce Wayne. I'm the new horse trainer that—"
Before he could finish, Shayera put thumb and forefinger in her mouth and whistled an ear-piercing noise that made Bruce's head ring. A man standing several yards away talking to a woman delivering hay whipped his head around with the sound of being summoned.
"Stewart!" Shayera hollered now that she had his attention. "Your new horse trainer is here!"
Bruce smiled politely, uncertain of what to make of this place, but he needed the money and had nowhere else to go. He had pinned all of his hopes on this job and this new town. He didn't want it all to go south before it had even gotten started.
"My husband will be right with you," Shayera told him. "Come on, Rex. How many times have I told you to stay where I can see you?"
"A thousand times," he sarcastically replied as his little legs tried to keep up with his mother's annoyed pace. She was clearly not amused by his answer.
"I'm going to have to put a leash on you," Shayera told her son as they disappeared into the barn.
"But mom…" Rex whined.
"Hi, I'm John Stewart," the man introduced himself, offering his hand to shake. "I see you've already met my wife and son."
"You have a very nice family," Bruce said.
"Thanks," John replied with an amused snort. "Rex is three going on thirty. He definitely keeps us on our toes around here."
"I'm Bruce Wayne," he introduced himself once more.
"Our new horse trainer," John recognized the name. "Let me show you around a bit and then I'll take you to the bunkhouse where you'll be staying."
"Sounds great," Bruce agreed as he followed John towards a row of stables.
"These are the horse stables," John began. "We have foals in the first stable with their mothers. The second and third stables house our Danish Warmbloods, Westphalians, several Arabians, Quarter Horses, Standardbreds. You name it we probably have it."
"That's quite impressive," Bruce replied. "How many horses do you have?"
"Over a hundred," John revealed, holding up his hand. "Don't worry. You don't have to train all of them. Some of them are here for breeding purposes, some for companionship for the other horses, and some just because the owner refuses to send them to the glue factory."
"Glue factory?"
"That was a joke," John told him with a grin. "Just making sure you're paying attention."
Bruce chuckled softly. "Will I get to meet Mrs. Prince?"
"Tonight," John informed him. "They're having a barbeque tonight to welcome you and give you a chance to meet everyone."
"Wow," he murmured under his breath, stunned. "I'm flattered."
"They love to have a good party around here," John told him, clapping him on the shoulder. "I think you're going to find you'll love it here. Everyone who comes to work here never wants to leave. It's like one big, happy family."
"What happened to the last trainer?"
"She was fired," John replied. "They caught her using illegal substances on an injured horse to improve its performance and speed up the healing process. Mrs. Prince doesn't go for that—at all."
"I'm surprised that the trainer would try something like that," Bruce thoughtfully said. "I'm sure you regularly run tests on the horses to check for things like that."
"We do," John confirmed. "She thought she could sneak it past us. It didn't work."
"Is the horse alright?"
"Unfortunately, we had to put the horse down," John revealed with a frown. "The horse had an unusual reaction to whatever she gave it. That sealed the trainer's fate."
"Anything else I should know about around here?" he asked.
"Come with me," John said, a smile spreading across his face.
Bruce wasn't certain what John was up to, but he was suspicious about what it could be. He followed John to a training area where a woman was riding an impressive Arabian horse. It was black and sleek, elegant in its movements, and unmistakably well-trained.
That, however, was not what had captured his attention the most. It was the woman riding the Arabian.
She seemed to become one with the horse as they jumped over a fence, her body leaning into the animal that carried her over the obstacle. There was an unmistakable bond between woman and horse, a deep level of trust that they shared. It was obvious that she had spent a great deal of time with this particular horse. It was no doubt her favorite.
There was something about her that had him mesmerized despite not being able to get a good look at her face. Her raven ponytail whipped in the wind as she drove her horse to gallop faster. Together, they went the full length of the training area before coming back around once more.
"Who is that?" Bruce found himself asking, entranced by her.
"That is Diana Prince," John said. "She's the daughter of Hippolyta Prince who owns this horse farm."
Pulling her horse to a stop, Diana patted the Arabian's neck, leaning down and kissing it affectionately. She dismounted from the horse, holding the reins as she led the horse to the gate. A man with red hair was waiting for her, taking the reins from her to water her favorite mare. They talked for a moment, the redhead laughing as he took the horse away.
Bruce watched intently as she removed her helmet, tossing it on top of a bale of hay before pulling her raven mane free from her ponytail. She tilted her head back, running her fingers through her dark hair that fell like an ebony waterfall before reaching for a bottle of water resting on the hay bale.
Bruce felt his heart stutter out of rhythm as she turned and looked his way, giving him a slight nod and soft smile before walking away. Bruce smiled in response, his heart dropping into his stomach as a man approached her, putting an arm around her as they walked towards one of the barns.
He should've known a young woman that beautiful couldn't possibly be single. He felt a sense of confusion wash over him as his brain tried to catch up with his heart. He'd never felt such a fleeting connection only to feel such utter loss just as quickly and he didn't even know this woman.
"Poor thing," John said with a sigh as they watched Diana and the man disappear into a barn. "Her father died three years ago. She never really got over it."
"How did he die?"
"Heart attack—dropped dead while tending to his horse," John replied. "I'll show you to the bunkhouse. I'm sure you'll want to get settled in and cleaned up before the barbeque at six o'clock."
"How many people are going to be at this barbeque tonight?"
"Let's see," John murmured as he thought about it. "Everyone who works here, some friends of the Princes from the next horse ranch over, and some people that are connected with the farm."
"So?"
"Seventy-five maybe," John guessed. "Don't worry. Shayera and I will be there. We'll protect you from the vultures."
"You're making it sound so enticing," Bruce sarcastically replied with a frown.
John chuckled in response. "It'll be a great time," he assured him. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"
"Go for it," he said. "I have no secrets."
"Are you related to the billionaire Wayne family in Gotham?"
Bruce drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly through his nose. "Yeah…I am," he softly admitted as they came around the barn only to run directly into Diana and the man she had left with.
"Whoa," Bruce murmured as he grabbed hold of Diana to keep her from falling, finding her fully enveloped in his arms. "I'm so sorry."
"No…my fault," Diana insisted, shaking her head as she gently pulled out his unexpected embrace.
"Hey, Jason…Diana," John said. "This is Bruce Wayne. He's our new horse trainer."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Jason replied, grabbing Bruce's hand and shaking it aggressively. "Hope you like it here."
"I'm sure I will," Bruce responded, casting a glance at Diana who was tucking a raven curl behind her ear.
"Big barbeque bash tonight in your honor," Jason told him with a big grin. "You're not going to want to miss it. Be sure to save a dance for Diana here."
"Jason," Diana chided him with a warning glare.
"Diana doesn't like to admit it, but she's a fabulous dancer," Jason revealed. "We'll see you tonight."
"It was nice to meet you, Bruce," Diana said with a shy smile.
"The pleasure is all mine," Bruce murmured as Jason and Diana walked away.
Bruce couldn't figure out why Diana's boyfriend would insist that he dance with her tonight at the party. Was he that cocky and confident that she'd never fall for another man? It didn't make any sense to him. If she was his girlfriend, he wouldn't want her dancing with anyone else.
John continued, oblivious to Bruce's consternation as he led him to a row of well-maintained bunkhouses. "This one here on the right is all yours," he announced.
John unlocked the door, stepping aside to let Bruce enter first. He was stunned to find it well furnished and maintained. It appeared to be freshly painted with new curtains hanging above the windows. The furniture was better than anything that he'd ever had before in a bunkhouse. It was usually beaten up with holes, appearing moth-eaten or chewed on by wild animals. This furniture appeared new.
"Do I have a roommate?" Bruce asked as he looked around.
"Not unless you have a mouse in your pocket," John told him with a chuckle. "Everyone gets a bunkhouse to themselves, unless of course you have a spouse."
"I'm not married," Bruce replied.
The last bunkhouse Bruce had stayed in had held four of them. It gave a whole new meaning to close quarters. He had been more than happy to leave that farm despite having made some good friends there. Wandering around, he stopped before the refrigerator, opening the door to find it fully stocked.
"Hope you don't mind," John said from behind him. "Shayera took the liberty of filling your fridge for you. She said it wasn't very welcoming to be given a bunkhouse with an empty fridge."
"No, this is perfect…absolutely perfect," Bruce murmured.
"I'll let you get your stuff from the truck and get moved in," John decided. "Shayera and I live in the yellow bunkhouse on the far left. We'll come to get you when it's time to go to the barbeque tonight."
"Thanks, John," Bruce said. "Thanks for everything."
"No problem," he assured him. "See you tonight."
Bruce stood there in the middle of the kitchen, overwhelmed by the warm reception that he'd been given. He could hardly believe that this was all real. After meeting Diana, he was more convinced than ever that this had to be some fantastic dream that would he eventually wake from.
"Wait till I tell Richard about this," he said to himself.
To be continued (?)
A/N: This is inspired by the Kentucky Derby that ran this past Saturday. Let me know if this is something you want me to continue or not. :)