He turns back, his expression calm except for the storm raging in his eyes. “I just thought I’d grab us some water first. We’ve been on the road for hours, and I thought we’d need a drink.” He disappears into the house, and I curse under my breath, already expecting him to take his sweet time. But he’s back in seconds, striding toward me with two full glasses of water.
“Here,” he says, holding one out.
I glare at him for a moment but take the glass and grumble a thanks, annoyed that he’s right. I am thirsty. But what really pisses me off is the jolt of electricity that shoots up my arm when our fingers brush—like my body hasn’t gotten the memo that I’m furious.
“You didn’t happen to impulsively buy five skilled ranch hands while you were in the kitchen, did you? Because it’s going to take at least that to care for this horse alone.”
Dylan’s expression is hard as he replies. “Shadow’s Fury has a hell of a lot of promise. I saw something in him in that arena.”
My laugh is short and laced with bitterness. I can’t remember ever feeling as angry as I do right now, which is saying something considering I followed a man I thought I was madly in love with halfway across the country only to find him tangled in our sheets with another woman when Madison was three months old. Oh, I was mad then, but it was a slow, festering burn. This—this rage feels wild and alive.
“Right,” I say. “You, with your years of ranch experience, saw potential in a horse that everyone else in that arena today knew couldn’t be saved.”
“Yeah, I did, as it happens.” He shoves his hands on his hips, making his massive shoulders appear even broader. “Despite what you clearly think of me, I’m allowed to have an opinion on my ranch. And by the way, I’d appreciate it if my ranch hands didn’t mouth off about me to our clients.”
“Ranch hands?” I repeat, my voice rising despite the way I’m cringing inside. Half of me wants to blurt an apology for my stupid comment earlier; the other half wants to tell him to go to hell. “It’s just me. And your recklessness affects me.”
His eyes narrow. “You get that this is my ranch, right? And if I want to buy a horse, I will.”
“And you get that my six weeks are almost up, right?” I fire back. “In just over two weeks, your deal with Bill is done and I’m gone. What are you going to do then, Dylan? Are you keeping this place as a working ranch or not? Are you keeping the horses?”
“I don’t know,” he replies, and damn, it still hurts to hear that uncertainty in his voice.
I shake my head, keeping my voice like steel. “Well, just so you know, whatever you decide, I’ll be leaving. Keep the horses. Don’t keep them. I don’t care anymore. I’ve got plenty of other ranch offers.” The words fly out before I can stop them, the lie about other options feeling sour in my mouth. Self-preservation.
I’ve known since day one that I was only here for six weeks, but the hope has crept up on me, so slowly I hadn’t even realized it was there. Every time he’s shown up, done a decent day’s work alongside me, it’s made me hope just a little bit that there was a chance this could be more. But I’ve been kidding myself. This job, this land, these horses—they’re not just a paycheck. They’remy whole damn life. And yet to Dylan, they’re still a mistake he won’t admit to and won’t try to fix.
Then a pang of worry grips me. Who will care for Moonlight if she hasn’t foaled before I leave? What does Dylan know about delivering a foal? About managing the stress of a first-time mare? He barely knows how to saddle his own damn horse. How can I trust him to hire someone halfway decent to help if he does keep the horses?
I open my mouth to say something—what, I’m not sure, but Dylan gets there first.
“Good,” he says, and the word lands like a slap.
“Fine. Then let me give you some home truths before I go.” I wave a hand in the direction of the paddocks. “This? Breeding and training and selling horses? It’s a business, Dylan. And you just spent a huge chunk of profit on a stallion who can’t be ridden, doesn’t trust people, and sure as hell won’t be breeding.”
“You don’t know that,” he snaps, but there’s a flicker of doubt in his eyes.
I step in close, so close I can feel the heat rolling off him. “What I know is that you never think before you act. Ever. Has it always been like this for you? Taking what you want, when you want it, and letting the rest of us clean up the mess?”
His eyes flick to my lips for half a breath before locking on mine again. “Are we still talking about horses? Or are we talking about the kiss in the bar?” His voice so low it’s barely a rumble.
I freeze, breath stalling. Even furious, I can’t stop staring at his mouth, at the rise and fall of his chest, at the way he looks like he’s barely holding himself back. How even though I should be running in the opposite direction from this man, a part of me wants to lean in, wants him to stop holding back.
Then a loud clang from the trailer shatters the moment.
“This is about Shadow’s Fury,” I say. “And the burden you just dumped on me—or whoever’s here when I’m gone. Likeeverything else, I’ll be the one stuck dealing with the fallout until then.”
“You’re not alone,” Dylan growls. “I’m here. These are my horses. This is my ranch. You’re just too obsessed with control to let anyone help.”
“Oh, that’s rich,” I shoot back, sarcasm clinging to every word. “You think this is about control? You have no idea what you’re doing. Your heart’s not in this. And your head isn’t either. I saw the way you reacted when that call came in. Coach Allen is the Stormhawks coach, right? Tell me, Dylan, if he offered you your old position, would you take it?”
“Damn right I would.”
The air leaves my lungs in a sharp exhale, taking my annoyance with it. He didn’t even pause. “And that,” I say, “is your problem.”
Dylan’s shoulders sag under the weight of the truth hanging between us. For once, he doesn’t try to argue. Doesn’t throw it back. Just sighs.
“I know.” He glances toward the trailer. “But standing here fighting isn’t helping either of us. And the longer we leave Shadow’s Fury in there, the worse he’s gonna get. So let’s put a pin in this, and you tell me what you need.”
