“Wasn’t expecting you,” he says when he gets close enough.
“I was in the area and thought I’d come check on Oatmeal.”
He cocks a brow. “You were in the area, were you?”
I nod and point vaguely behind me. “Just down the road, in fact, at the Reynolds’ place.”
Wyatt nods once but doesn’t say more about where I’ve been. “Oatmeal’s fine.”
“Glad to hear it.” I’m not going to let his grumpiness get to me. “Still, I’d like to have a look. She’s an older mare; the risks are higher.”
He grunts. Clearly, his version ofdo whatever you want.I take it as permission.
“Did I catch you in the middle of something?” I gesture with my head toward the fence that the ranch hand, Travis, is working on.
“Always something to fix around here,” he says.
“That’s what I hear.”
His head jerks up. “What have you heard?”
I blink. Something about the way he’s looking at me, sending shocks through my body. “Nothing,” I say quickly. “It’s just that people talk, you know?”
“People in town, I suppose?”
He shakes his head, but I nod, because yes. It has been people in town talking about Rock Creek Ranch and the Thorne family.
“Figures,” he grunts and kicks at the dirt. “People around here always did have too much time on their hands. Can’t imagine that’s changed much.”
“It’s not that they?—”
“Save it,” he stops me.
Smooth, Anna. Real smooth.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” I say quickly, suddenly desperate to make things better. “It’s just that people like to talk…you know? I didn’t mean it as an insult,” I add when he still doesn’t say anything. It’s just that?— “
“You don’t know this place,” he says finally. His eyes are dark, unreadable.
“No,” I admit. “But I’d like to.”
I don’t know where that came from, but as soon as it’s out of my mouth, I know it’s not a lie. Iwouldlike to know this place.
My admission earns me a look I can’t quite decipher. Something flickers behind his eyes. But just as quickly, it’s gone.
“Are you here to gossip or work?”
The words sting more than I expect. “Work,” I say tightly.
Before he can say anything else, I turn toward the barn. My heart’s still pounding harder than it should be as I slip into the warm, hay-scented space.
Familiar. Safe.
It’s easier to breathe in here. And much easier to remember why I came to Rock Creek in the first place.
The horses greet me with gentle neighing as I make my way to the back. Horses—all animals really—are so much easier to understand than people. Especially grumpy cowboys.
And that’s why I’m so far from home in this tiny mountain town in the middle of nowhere. The animals.
