HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!his momma wrote, and then she sent several emojis, ranging from cakes to poppers to birthday gifts.
Tarr grinned and chuckled, then settled at the bar to eat. He’d been staying at the mansion for a couple of days while Tucker and Bobbie Jo were in Las Vegas with Rosie. Since she’d won Rookie of the Year, as well as the national championship in barrel racing, Tarr knew they would’ve been out late celebrating last night.
He did expect both Bobbie Jo and Tuck to text him and say happy birthday, but no one else would. He hadn’t told Briar that today was his birthday, and the only other person who knew was Wayne.
Tarr tapped on his social media as he took a bite of his bacon and immediately remembered thatthe entire worldknew it was his birthday. He’d ridden in the NPR finals several times in his life, and many announcers had said “Let’s put our hands together for Tarr Olson, who’s celebrating his birthday today!” right before his eight-second ride. He’d also put the date on many of his social media profiles, and everyone from childhood acquaintances to perfect strangers had already started sending good wishes.
He quickly closed out of those apps, completely dissatisfied with getting messages from people he didn’t know.
With Tuck gone, he’d been doing the feeding himself while Briar took care of the goat herd. That put them a little bit behind, but he went through her veterinary rotation with her, and then he started training just after lunch, about the time she disappeared into her office. Thankfully, there had been no more snow, and Tarr could admit that he liked living in the mansion.
He’d been looking online for hot plates he could put on a countertop, so he could make his pancakes and bacon, scrambled eggs, or a grilled cheese sandwich with the mini-fridge and the microwave upstairs. It really would be an excellent place to stay until he could get his cabin finished.
He’d scheduled a call with Les Davenport at Portside Construction next week, because Tarr had originally thought he would build the cabin himself, but now knew that the task was beyond his abilities and the amount of time he had to dedicate to it. If he hired someone, he could probably move in by spring, and if he did it himself, it might be another year.
He’d just finished breakfast when the doorbell rang, someone knocked, and then the front door opened, all in the span of a single second.
Tarr sat far enough back in the house that he couldn’t see the front door, but the alarm system said “Front door open,” so he knew someone had come in.
“It’s just me,” Briar called. “Wiggins, get out of the way.”
Tarr stayed on his barstool and watched the mouth of the hallway that led toward the front of the house, where Tuck had a formal office and a formal living room off the ten-foot-wide foyer the front door opened into.
Briar’s steps sounded short and stilted, and the moment she appeared, Tarr understood why: she carried at least two plastic grocery sacks on each arm and balanced an enormous birthday cake in her hands.
“What in the world?” Tarr jumped to his feet and went to relieve her of the dessert. “What’s this for?”
“What’s this for?” she repeated, her voice filled with daggers.
Tarr slid the cake onto the counter at the same time Briar lifted the bags and let them crash down. “It’s your birthday, Mister Olson, and you did—not—tell—me.”
She freed her hands and arms from the plastic loops and planted one hand on her hip, her glare fixed perfectly on him.
“It’s not a big deal,” he said.
“It’s not a big deal?” Briar shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. Birthdays are a big deal.”
“Oh, yeah? When’s yours, then?”
“March,” she said, lifting her chin in a haughty movement. “Now, it smells suspiciously like chocolate in here, which means you’ve already eaten—and that’s fine. I’m going to feed the goats, and then I’m going to come back here and make your birthday lunch.”
She dove into the plastic bags and started pulling things out of them, including potatoes, shredded cheese, sour cream, vegetable oil, and brown gravy packets.
“What have we got going on here?” Tarr asked. “What are you making for lunch?”
“Poutine,” she said.
“Honey, it’smybirthday.” He grinned at her, but she maintained her forceful glare.
“Yes, and we missed our poutine date last week, becausesomeoneneeded to go horseback riding with the big celebrities.”
“Hey, I invited you along.”
“Yeah,” she said. And she’d had fun going with Cole and Rosie and Rachel in a more relaxed manner.
“Their dads are rodeo-famous.”
“Yes, I heard.” Briar stepped around the island and started to put things in Tuck’s fridge. “So we’re going to have lunch, and then we’re going to spend the day watching movies in the theater room downstairs.”
