Inside the barn, the familiar sounds wrap around us—soft nickers, the shuffle of hooves, the creak of wood. I guide thepony into an empty stall between two of our calm, older horses. She sniffs the air, then lowers her head to investigate the fresh shavings.
I hang her halter and step back, studying her.
She’s small but solid, with kind eyes and a steady build. Perfect.
I can see exactly why Giles chose her for Ruby.
I leave her settled with hay and water and move on with the rest of my morning.
Abby, a fifteen-year-old show jumper, and her excitable bay, who has too much energy, are waiting for me in the arena. Two hours of flatwork and small fences later, and I’m re-centered.
By the time Priscilla arrives with Ruby, I’m ready.
I meet them in the driveway, wiping my hands on my jeans as Ruby hops out of the truck like she can’t wait another second. She’s wearing the cutest pair of Carhartt coveralls over a long-sleeved tee, her boots dusty, her felt cowgirl hat perched proudly on her head. The pink leather band around it catches the light.
Waylon went back and got the hat.
The thought causes something warm and dangerous to bloom in my chest.
Dammit.
I do not need to let my guard down when it comes to Waylon Ludlow.
“Shelby!” Ruby squeals, barreling into me with all the force her little body can manage.
I laugh and crouch to hug her back. “Hey there, cowgirl. I like the coveralls,” I say.
“Nana bought them for me,” she says proudly.
Priscilla smiles as she watches us. “She’s been talking about today nonstop all week.”
“That’s good. I like an enthusiastic student,” I say, standing.
“What’s ’thusiastic?” Ruby asks.
“It means eager and excited to learn,” Priscilla explains.
“Yes. I’m ready!” Ruby says, hopping up and down.
“Come on. Let’s go say hi to Grandma first,” I say, leading them to the main house.
Inside, Grandma is in the kitchen, three large honeydew melons lined up on the island like she’s been waiting for us. She looks up, and her face lights immediately.
“Hi, Priscilla,” Grandma greets. “And who do you have there?”
Priscilla helps Ruby onto one of the stools at the island.
“This is my granddaughter, Ruby,” Priscilla says. “Ruby, this is my friend Evelyn.”
“Hi,” Ruby says shyly.
“Well, would you look at you?” Grandma says, bending just enough to gently pinch Ruby’s cheek. “Aren’t you just precious?”
Ruby giggles, tipping her hat back. “I’m gonna ride my pony today.”
Grandma beams. “You are? Well, that sounds like a lot of fun.”
I glance at the melons and smile. “First, we have a job to do.”
