She nodded enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with wine and mischief. “Just warning you now, I’m probably going to eat more than my fair share.”
“That’s fine. I’ll let you.” I grinned, but inside I meant it. I’d let this woman have whatever she wanted from me. Anything. Everything.
When I asked about the farm she grew up on, her face softened like sunlight on water.
“Well, we weren’t exactly big time,” she said, wrapping her fingers around her wineglass. “We had chickens, pigs, goats… veggies. My dad had dreams of expanding, but when he died, Mom just didn’t have the energy.”
My heart gave a sharp twist. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been… hell.”
She nodded, but it wasn’t just grief in her eyes. It was resilience. “Dad died when I was seven. Cleaning his shotgun and the safety was off. One second he was there, the next…” She swallowed. “Mom passed away when I was eighteen. Cancer.”
I reached for her hand across the table, not even thinking. Her fingers threaded through mine like they belonged there.
“Shit, Cassidy. I didn’t mean to bring up anything painful.”
“It’s okay,” she said, smiling faintly. “I like remembering them. Dad was always singing, always calling me Cassie, he was the only one allowed to.”
She laughed softly, and something about it shattered me in the best way. “Mom was beautiful. Kind. She fostered kids afterDad died because they always wanted a big family. When she passed, I had three foster siblings. I took care of them until they found more permanent homes.”
I stared at her, stunned. “You were eighteen.”
“I was,” she said, lifting her chin a little. “But we managed. It’s why I became a teacher.”
Jesus. She was lightning and soft rain. The strongest woman I’d ever met, wrapped in sarcasm and tight jeans. She talked about hard things like she’d already done the breaking and come back stronger. And I… I was falling for her, hard and fast. Faster than should be possible after just one kiss and one date.
The waitress appeared to take away the dishes and asked about dessert, so I ordered the sharing plate. And, if Cassidy wanted to eat it all then I’d let her.
“What about you?” she asked as we watched the waitress walk away, her hand still in mine. “Did you always want to work with horses? I know you said they helped after your mom died.”
“Well, I knew I’d always end up working on the ranch. Horses specifically?” I gave a one shouldered shrug. “I’ve always loved them. Could ride from an early age. We only really had working horses, though. Then, when Mom was alive, she got this beautiful mare, Ariel, and she was skittish as hell. She wouldn’t let anyone on her back. Dad went crazy at Mom for buying her and none of us had any clue why she did. It wasn’t like she could ride her.”
“What happened?”
“Mom asked me to spend time with her. You know, clean her stable and brush her, feed her apples, generally show her some love. So, I did, and I watched YouTube videos on how to get a horse to let you ride it.” I grinned and shook my head at the memory, and the warmth it filled me with. “I was eight years old and thought I could miraculously get her better.”
Cassidy’s eyes narrowed on me. “And you did, didn’t you?”
The belief she had in me, hit me like a brick in the middle of my chest. Like every angry word we’d had in the last three years hadn’t existed. As if she’d always known me, always knew the man I was underneath the bravado. Always knew there was plenty of sweet beneath the sour.
“Yeah, I did. Not until after Mom died, though. My training of Ariel kinda stalled for a while, but later I made it my mission…for Mom.” I drew in a breath, still feeling the ache of Mom not knowing how we’d all succeeded in life, how we’d fulfilled her dreams for our home, how I’d fixed her horse. “Ariel was my horse for a while until I got Peanut, but now that beautiful girl lives on the ranch, living out her last days grazing or running the pastures without a care in the world.”
After we shared dessert and stories, she asked more about Ariel and how I trained her after Mom died.
When I told her stories about my beautiful chestnut mare, her face lit up like she could see the eight-year-old version of me. She believed in that boy. Believed in me like it wasn’t even a question.
“You think maybe your mom got her for you, not her?” she asked, voice soft.
That hit something deep. A place I didn’t let many people near.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “She must’ve known I needed something to pour myself into.” I gave a quiet laugh. “I was a restless kid, never had a dream to hold on to like Nash. Even at that age he knew he wanted to play in the NFL, and Wilder knew he wanted to be the boss on the ranch someday. He was this tiny, scrawny little thing who used to follow Gus, our old foreman, around. He even wore a Stetson and roper boots.” I chuckled recalling him sticking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans and noddinghis head sagely, just like Gus. “Although Mom had to stuff paper in the ends because she couldn’t get a pair small enough for him. I was less focused and then Ariel came along.” My smile was accompanied with a lump in my throat. “So, yeah, I guess Mom did get her for me.”
“You know,” Cassidy said, softly. “I’ve only known Nash well for the last couple of years, but I’ve spent a lot of time with him and Lily. Time when we’ve drunk a lot of wine and whisky, but never once have I heard him talk like this, about your mom or you all when you were kids.”
“Losing Mom changed him,” I said, brushing my thumb across the back of her hand. “Broke something in him that only now Lily’s stitching back together.”
The air between us shifted again. Warm. Weighty. Like we were standing at the edge of something real.
“She’s a big believer in talking and talking helps.”
