“N-now you t-tell me?” Her teeth chattered as they trotted along. She could see cows in the distance, some of them smaller. She could wait until they arrived at the pasture.
“I thought you were tough, being from Nebraska and all.”
Trish didn’t dignify his jab with a response, nor did she miss that he avoided her question. She settled on a glare to the back of his head, which landed on his black Stetson. She hated to admit how good it looked on him. She allowed herself to study the hat more closely—its shape, its color, how it bobbed up and down with the movement of the horse. How the fleeting rays of sunlight flickered as his horse carried him forward.
She snuck in a picture of that too. All details she could use in her new book. That was all. Anything more, well, there wasn’t.
Though she’d lived in several Midwest states, none of them quite resembled this beautiful Wyoming ranch with its rolling hills and their golden hues. Trish brought Daphne to a stop so she could admire the view without falling off and risked snapping a few more pictures. Wade would surely poke fun at her if she landed on the ground. She’d had enough fun with mud for one trip.
“Pretty amazing, huh?”
In her trance, she’d missed him circling his horse back around toward her. Though his eyes were shaded beneath the brim of his Stetson, their deep color caused her to swallow. “Yeah, it’s really something. I’ve been in Omaha for the past few years. Went to college there, never left.” Trish frowned at that realization. Why had she chosen a noisy city in which to seek stability? She’d always preferred the quieter life over the bustle. “Kind of forgot what it was like to be somewhere quiet.”
“Where did you live, before Omaha?”
Trish was a little taken aback by the question, and the gaze that seemed to hold a flicker of interest in her answer. “Small towns, mostly. Nebraska, Kansas, Iowa.” Wherever the system sent her. But she didn’t feel like talking about her dull, unhappy childhood. “You’ve always lived here?”
“Went away to college in Cheyenne.” Wade glanced around. “But otherwise, yes.”
“On the ranch?” Trish took advantage of her three bars and uploaded a few pictures to social media to reassure Mindy she was making the most of her retreat, including a shot of the back silhouette of the cowboy. Wade would never see it. And maybe as a bonus, Henry would jump to conclusions. He’d yet to unfriend her on social media and was notorious for wasting hours on his.
Wade lifted the reins to lead his horse. “Yep.”
“Did your whole family live here? I mean, it’s a big house, but that seems like a lot of people under one roof.”
“I think I see a limping calf.” Wade adjusted his hat. “Wait here. I’ll be back.”
Trish fought the urge to fire a retort after him for being left behind. Did he think she’d spook the cows or get all squeamish? “Well, Daphne, I guess we have a few minutes to kill.” The mare neighed in agreement, then dipped her head to check out the goodies on the ground.
Trish pulled out her phone again, this time to jot down notes about her surroundings—the rolling hills, the way the sun danced along the edges of leaves just starting to turn a golden color, the fresh, crisp air, and a sky so blue she nearly lost herself in staring.
Her eyes dropped on Wade down below her vantage point, hopping off his horse near the gate. Family was a sensitive topic. She’d do well to remember that.
The cattle hardly skittered more than a few steps at Wade’s approach. Some didn’t move at all. Did all cattle get this used to the people taking care of them, or was there something special about Wade?
When he looked her way and offered a quick wave, Trish ducked her head. To keep herself busy and her eyes off Wade, she tapped around on her phone, deciding to ensure the upload went through. Her post already had six hearts and a couple of comments. Trish lost herself scrolling while she had the bars.
The first response was from Mindy, no surprise:Who’s the cowboy?!? Do you get to keep him?!?
Before Trish could type out a reply, Wade’s voice startled her. “Calf’s fine.”
Trish nearly fumbled her phone. How had she missed his approach?
“Little guy must’ve tripped over a rock or something,” Wade added. “We have to wean them in a couple of weeks, but we need them healthy. I get a little concerned this time of year.” He flashed her that charming smile he’d given the whole group after dinner last night. Whatever had been bothering him earlier seemed fine now. But it was a smile she knew she couldn’t trust to be genuine. “Let’s grab some lunch. I know a good place to take a break.” Wade nodded ahead for Trish to follow and turned his horse.
“Lunch?” Another glance at her phone revealed it was ten-thirteen. “Isn’t it a little early for that?”
“By the time we get there, it’ll be close enough.” He didn’t wait to see whether she was going to follow.
They meandered along rough dirt trails, and up and down gently rolling hills with patches of trees for shade. At the top of one hill, Trish had to stop. The landscape spread for miles. Off in the distance, snowcapped mountains appeared in a faded, washed out sort of way. In this beautifully quiet, lost in the most captivating landscape painting she’d ever seen, Trish never wanted to go back to the noisy city again.
“You coming?” Wade called from a few dozen yards ahead.
Easing Daphne downhill on the trail, the river to their left wound through the few scattered trees where Wade was leading them. The sun danced along the tops of the trees, making the whole area appear as if it were on fire.
Wade pulled back on the reins when they reached the shaded riverbank, stopping his horse. “Let’s eat. I’m starving!”
“This is beautiful.” Trish dismounted, instantly snapping more pictures with her phone. “Is this river on your land?”
