The tread on these boots was different.
And it wasn’t one.There were a few.With lots of fresh tracks and scuff marks all around the back of the water tank, which was freshly filled.
Porter wouldn’t have done that.As a city boy, surely he’d have limited knowledge about bores, tanks, and wells, and no reason to do it in any case.
Someone else had been out here.
Ten
The scent of leather and fresh-cut hay filled the air as Amara dragged her old saddle to the stables.Her fingers traced along the worn edges.The leather stiff from disuse.But the moment she inhaled its familiar, musky scent, something inside her settled.
Her horse—hers—lot number 728, stood quietly in the stall, ears flicking as she cinched up the girth, his muscles shifting beneath a glossy coat.
For the past five days, she’d let him settle into the paddock as they built a routine.Each morning, she brushed him down, then let him graze nearby while she unpacked her boxes—finding her saddle, her riding boots… and avoiding the man fixing up her stables like it was a full-time job.
Porter hadn’t said another word about the kiss—and neither had she.
He kept to his man cave and shiftwork.But every day she’d come home to find something newly fixed, built, or reinforced, making sure the horse had a solid home.
They’d both stayed busy.
And that suited her just fine.
As she led the saddled horse into the yard, the sun began its slow descent, casting a golden haze across the land, with the air thick with the scents of dust and gum trees, it was finally time to test her new horse out.
She slid her boot into the stirrup, swung into the saddle, and settled in for a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding tight in her chest, waiting all week for this moment.When, in fact, it had been years since she’d dared to sit in a saddle, on a horse she owned.
The leather creaked softly.The horse shifted beneath her, sensing the hesitation she hadn’t meant to show.
The last time she’d ridden, she’d lost everything.Her horses that she’d poured herself into—stolen.Even now that haunting memory still niggled behind her ribs.
Get back on the horse, right?She scoffed under her breath.Cliché as hell.
But this wasn’t just about riding.Not really.
Well, yes and no.
Only now it made sense why she’d taken so long to ride again, because the last time she’d climbed onto a horse, everything had fallen apart—a proper fall from grace.
And maybe that was the point ofgetting back in the saddle, literally.She wasn’t going to let the past keep her on the ground.Not now.Even if it was a small step, it was still forward.
She adjusted her grip on the reins, rolled her shoulders, then gave a gentle squeeze with her legs and the horse moved.
Slow and steady at first, circling the yard like it was no big deal.
But she felt it—the start of something shifting.Not just muscle and movement, but something else deep within her.
Porter had told her the back area was all fenced from his quick tour along the perimeter to be sure—long before he’d kissed her.But she’d seen him out there, tightening areas, making it more secure.
So now…
It was showtime.
Leaning over, she opened the gate.
The horse snorted, his muscles shifting in a wave as he pawed at the dirt, eager in his thirst for freedom.
‘Easy, does it…’ She had to find him a name.
