Later, once we’d stabled our horses and Wilder had told me he’d come over once everyone was asleep, I let myself into my cabin. My face tingled from the warmth as I toed off my boots, leaving them by the door. As the wind rattled outside, I padded across the wood floor in my thick socks and reached up to the shelf above my bed taking down a wooden box. My grandpa had made it for me when I was born. My fingers grazed over the words, ‘Tallulah’s Treasures’ carved into it, and it felt like a warm hug from him. Like he was still with me with his rosy cheeks, big smile and words ofwisdom. My thumb found the groove in the lid, worn smooth over the years, and pushed off the lid. I smiled down at the contents; a key to my first car, a cinema ticket from my first date, a lock of mane from Elvira, my pony when I was six. And then my breath caught as I stared at it, the slightly crinkled brown bag from Missy May’s diner. The one with the donut’s grease spots. The donuts that Wilder had brought to me that morning. I’d felt giddy when he’d handed it and the coffee to me, putting it down to my hangover, but I knew deep down it was something more.
I’d kept that bag because I thought it was the best I’d ever get of him. A sweet moment from a man who would one day walk away.
I didn’t trust what we had. Didn’t trust him. Didn’t trustme, so why would he stay. Yet he kept showing up for me. With coffee, with his hands, with his silence when I needed it. Maybe in his way he was showing me that I was worth choosing.
And while I thought about that, I placed the small white feather from an angel that may well have brought him to me, on top of the bag and then gently closed the lid.
Chapter 9
Independent Women – Destiny’s Child
Tally
“He’s making good progress,” Gunner said, coming to stand next to me. “Decided what you want to do with him yet?”
My stomach dropped to my dusty boots as I looked over at Dreamy trotting around the paddock with a saddle on his back. I’d asked Mikey to work with him, wondering whether he was just a good boy for me. Having watched them for twenty minutes it was clear he really was making progress.
“He can stay here,” Gunner added. “But he’s a racehorse, Tally. I’m notsure if his wandering around the pasture every day is fulfilling his potential.”
“I know,” I mused, chewing on my bottom lip. “I don’t have the funds to race him and he’s making progress now, but what if he freaks when he sees a starting gate again?” I loved that damn horse. The idea of handing him off to someone else felt like slicing out a piece of me.
Gunner turned to lean against the fence, casually resting his elbows on the top rail. “I agree. If you did want to race him then we’d move on to the next phase of his training. We’ll take him out to a racecourse and build up his confidence until we feel we can get him into a gate.” He gave me that smile, the one he used when pretending it was a suggestion, even though he’d already decided and knew I’d say yes. “I have a few ideas that mean you can keep him.”
My heart started to thud excitedly with the possibility. “Okay?”
“I’ve got a favorite, but I’ll lay out your options.”
I grinned, knowing the choice was already made. “Western Dressage. You could work with him, or we could bring in a local trainer. It’ll work with his focus, balance and athleticism.” I nodded, glancing over at Dreamy seeing everything that Gunner saw in him. “There’s also therapeutic riding or equine-assisted therapy. He’s got that gentle side that we’d need at the camp. He could also become one of the ranch utility horses, it would keep him active and mentally stimulated.” He turned to watch as Mikey gave Dreamy a hug, which was a huge progression. “The other options are trick training and would mean he doesn’t have to work with a saddle.” That felt like a step back as that had been our focus recently, getting a saddle on him. “And the final option, we could use him for breeding. He’d be a great stud with his bloodlines. Okay so he’s kind of failed as a racer, because I’ve got to be honest Tally, I don’t think that’s his future. It would be too high a risk that it happens again. I think that fear of the starting gate is in his head now. We can diminish it with training, but I don’t think we can totally erase it.” Gunner pushed off the fence and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Not to mention it was impacted with being kept in a stable for so long afterward. So they’re your options. You can think about it, but tell me which of those options excites you right now? What’s your gut reaction?”
I didn’t need to think about it for too long. My sweet, gentle boy whoshowed so much patience and tenderness when I was training him.
“Him being a therapy horse,” I told him. “He was broken and the idea of him helping kids feels right. Like full circle.”
Gunner’s grin widened and I knew I’d chosen right. “I think that’s exactly why he’d be a great therapy horse. Not all the kids that come to the ranch will be broken, but just having Dreamy around will be like a balm to them. I think it’ll be good for him, too.” Moving past me he gave me a nudge. “And it means you can stop that damn automatic payment for him being here.”
“How did you know?” I asked and looked over to the office. “Ruthie said you wouldn’t find out .”
“I didn’t. Wilder did, he likes to check the accounts with a fine toothed comb, you know after our dad’s shenanigans.”
“And he told you?” I took a deep breath, wondering where I would catch up with damn Wilder and his fine toothed comb.
“Don’t be too hard on him. I was the one who said I didn’t want it.” He chuckled and carried on walking. “But you should know he’s been transferring it into a separate account.”
“What? Gunner, what do you mean?”
He waved at me over his shoulder. “It’s all there waiting for you to decide what you want to do with it.”
As he strode away, his shoulders shaking, I was determined to find his damn brother.
“How dare he,” I muttered storming toward the office, Ruthie knew everyone’s schedule.
Halfway across the yard I was distracted by the sound of a car engine in front of the main house. Just as I moved for the office, something cut through the hum of the ranch, a low, throaty engine that didn’t belong.
I turned toward the main house. And froze. Bright orange. Loud. Flashy. And so, so out of place.
There was no one home. Lily and Cassidy were teaching and Felicia had Billy over at her house as she was minding her grandson. I changed direction and headed for the sportscar.
Taking my gloves off, I shoved them into the back pocket of my jeans andwatched as the door opened vertically. At the same time as the front door to the house opened, a khaki covered leg appeared out of the car.
