Myles grinned, but his indulgent gaze was on his wife. “No, Elsa’s going to be with Mae all day. You should see how giddy Mae is about that.” His gaze lifted to two men pulling up in a pickup with another trailer. “You met my brothers, Lane and Cruz, right?”
They had been at the party Dad had thrown. “Briefly.”
“Since Wynter’s going to boss us around,” Cruz said to me, “you might want to ride with the other guys. Four and four.”
I nodded and jumped in to help load the gear.
Tenor worked beside me, directing where everything got stashed and stored.
“You sure it’s only a day trip?” I asked.
A horse from the trailer whinnied and one of thegeldings getting loaded up in the Fosters’ trailer answered. A chorus of whinnies went up.
Tenor grinned and pushed his thick-framed glasses up. “When Tate took over, he got us signed up for a pasture management program.”
Teller walked by and grunted. “Talk about a fuckton of fencing.”
Tenor nodded. “We made smaller pastures and we move them more often. This way, we’re not as reliant on hay during the winter and the pastures have more time to rest.”
“Which means more vegetation.” I might’ve read up on a few ranching-related topics while I was in Vegas.
“Yup. Plus, Tate couldn’t be moving cattle for days at a time anymore with Chance, and now that he has three little ones, he certainly isn’t going to leave Scarlett days at a time.” His grin widened. “And we’re all getting older. Sleeping on the ground in the cold and heat is a little harder than it used to be.”
Made sense. Tenor must be in his late thirties. Except for Myles’s brothers, we were all either pushing forty or well past that birthday.
“Disappointed?” Tenor adjusted the brim of his cowboy hat. “Or are you dying to get back to your plush bed in the city?”
Autumn wasn’t in my plush bed in the city.
Teller walked by in the opposite direction. “Just so you know, James, we’re taking bets on how long you’ll last in the saddle.”
Tenor snickered and continued loading supplies. Thumps and bumps of metal from the horses moving in the trailer filled the air. Just because the last time I’dridden a horse was probably before Lane or Cruz had been born didn’t mean I couldn’t handle the entire day in the saddle. And I’d prove it.
Autumn
When I got home after work and after prepping for the fourth-grade music performance, the house was dark. Gideon’s laptop sat closed on the kitchen table. The satisfaction I got from that was supreme. In Vegas, I bet no one in that casino would believe he could take a break from work that long.
My smugness took a dip when I realized he always had his mind in the game. He’d gone to help move cattle, but he probably had an ulterior motive.
I rubbed my suddenly tight gut. I hadn’t eaten. Tomorrow night, Scarlett planned to order pizza. I was rummaging in the kitchen when the garage door opened and closed. A minute later, Gideon stepped through the door with two plates in his hands.
“Hey,” he said in a low timbre that chased the chill away and warmed me from the inside out.
“Hey.”
A cold draft wafted in with him, and I caught the scents of horse sweat, crisp fall air, and dirt. His hair was smashed down from his cowboy hat, and he was dusty from head to toe, but it was his gaze that gave me pause. A slight twinkle shone from their depths and it was the most relaxed I’d seen him... ever.
Even after sex, he was never boneless like me. He had a constant tension radiating through him to match the way his mind was constantly working. These days I assumed the land sale was occupying his thoughts, but before me, before this, his regular job probably took up the majority of his brainpower. Today, maybe it was the cowboy boots that gave him an easy, rolling gait, but the constant tension across his shoulders was gone.
He shoved his laptop aside—also satisfying—and set the plates down. “Mae already had your plate prepared when we returned.”
But he’d come bearing two plates. “Haven’t you eaten?”
He shook his head. “I knew you and Scarlett wouldn’t be working too long, and I didn’t want you to wait.” He went to a drawer by the sink to dig out two forks.
He’d been riding all day. Whenever I’d helped move cattle or had been around when my family was done for the day, they piled around the table and barely remembered how to eat like civilized beings. “You didn’t have to.”
His direct gaze caught me. “I know. Sit.”
