“Just a few things. Don’t worry. I’m not moving in.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Who says that would worry me?”
“It wouldn’t?”
“Are you kidding? After what happened this morning?”
She laughed. “Don’t go thinking that would be a regular occurrence.”
“A guy can hope.” He flashed her a grin. “How about sticking the duffle in the tack room for now?”
“My thoughts exactly. The stairs take time.”
“The stairs need an overhaul. It was fine when I was the only one going up and down, but now….”
“We can toss around ideas on the ride.” She hurried into the barn and stowed her duffle in a corner. The horses were stomping and talking among themselves, stirred up because two humans had arrived but no food had been delivered.
“Breakfast will be served soon, guys and gals.” Her reassurance brought a few nickers and a couple of snorts. “Most likely Adam and Tracy or Luis and Jordan.” For sure it wouldn’t be Rio, Monty or Claudie. Or Zay. He’d thoroughly enjoyed himself last night, too.
When she walked out of the barn, Cole stood waiting, a hand on the bridle of each of their horses. “Thanks for indulging me.”
“Thanks for getting them ready. It’ll be fun. We’ve never taken a ride together.” Clutching a handful of Sol’s cream-colored mane, she placed her foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle.
“I never dared ask.” He mounted up. “Thought it might be too pointed, too much like a date.”
“We skipped right over that phase.”
“Never liked it much, anyway.” He turned Sparky toward the path between the barn and the pasture.
She followed him to the electronic gate just beyond the barn and waited while he tapped in the code. On their left, the Flint Creek Range lay in shadow, backlit by the glow of the sun that hadn’t yet peeked over the snowy peaks.
She had a hunch where he was headed, and it wasn’t far.
He nudged Sparky into a slow canter, ducking under low branches as he led the way down a narrow trail through the pines. It hadn’t snowed in a couple of weeks and the path was clear, but snow still clung to patches in the forest that never saw sunlight.
About a mile down the trail, he took a fainter path that veered off to the left. A few yards later, the pines gave way to a meadow and a view of the mountains.
He pulled Sparky to a halt. “I found this spot weeks ago one morning when I wanted a good place to watch the sun come up. You probably knew where we were going.”
“I did. Great place to watch the sunrise. I used to do it a lot, but then we got busy.”
“I haven’t been out here much, either.” He glanced at her. “But I’m always glad when I make the effort.”
“I know what you mean. You watch the sun come up, and you hear the song from Annie in your head.”
He laughed. “Can’t say that I do.”
“But now you will. You’re welcome for the earworm.”
“I was about to get philosophical.”
“Annie is very philosophical. It’s about triumphing over adversity and beginning a new chapter.”
“Then I guess that song is appropriate.” He rested his gloved hands on the saddle horn and watched as the jagged edge of the peak began to glitter as if being painted in gold leaf by an invisible brush.
She appreciated the beauty of the scene, but she was more captivated by the image of Cole in profile, astride that magnificent chestnut horse, gazing at the mountains… and into the future. “I love that you suggested this.”
He turned to her. “You don’t think it’s corny?”
