“I just need to talk to her about something we discussed last week.”
Her eyes flash. “Last week?”
“Yeah. My daughter and I ran into her at the café. She went shopping with us and helped us pick out some stuff for Ruby.”
Charli turns sharply toward her sister. “Oh, she did, did she?” she calls out, loud enough that Shelby—who is still pretending very hard not to be listening—can definitely hear her.
“Um, yeah,” I say, thrown off by the sudden edge in her voice.
“Well then, let’s go talk to her,” Charli says, spinning on her heel and marching ahead like she’s decided to supervise this conversation personally.
Shelby turns as we approach, her smile fixed but wary. “Hey, Waylon.”
“Hey, Stormy.”
“Stormy?” the guy beside her asks, brows lifting.
Shelby sighs. “It’s an old nickname. One I outgrew when I was twelve,” she says pointedly in my direction.
He chuckles. “It’s cute.”
He turns to me and sticks out his hand. “Dixon Fisher.”
“Waylon Ludlow,” I reply, shaking it.
“Ludlow? As in Holland Ludlow?”
“Yep. He’s Waylon’s dad,” Charli answers for me when I don’t.
Dixon nods. “I worked at Ironhorse for a couple of summers before taking a position at the Boardman Ranch.”
“And now he’s the town’s sexy farrier,” Charli adds.
I don’t miss the wink she throws Shelby, whose cheeks are definitely pink now.
He laughs. “I don’t know about the sexy part, but I am a farrier. I’m scheduled to be out at Ironhorse next week.”
“Nice to meet you, Dick,” I say, shaking his hand again. Gripping it a little harder than necessary.
“Dixon,” he corrects.
“Right.”
His phone buzzes, and he pulls it out, glancing at the screen. “That’s the office. I’d better take this. Tell Matty I’ll be back next week to check on the draft horse again.”
They say their goodbyes, and he climbs into his truck, tires spitting gravel as he pulls away. The second he’s gone, both sisters turn back to me.
“What are you doing here, Waylon?” Shelby asks.
“You haven’t returned any of my texts,” I say.
“Texts?” Charli echoes, looking between us.
“I’ve been busy,” Shelby says.
“For three days?” I ask.
“Yeah. It’s busy here every day,” she hisses.
