“Dinner’s ready.”
“Already?”
“It’s getting dark earlier,” he said, taking her hand and leading her into the farmhouse. This time, she didn’t feel the insatiable need to glance around and remember everything that had happened here when she was a teenager. It had happened. It was done. Over.
“And I didn’t want to cut our ride short. So dinner’s ready.” He stepped into the kitchen, bringing her with him. “Farrah, this is my farm family. Cody and Wade Caswell. Shiloh Davenport. Missy and Tucker Jenkins.” He indicated each person as he said their name. She recognized everyone from church except for Shiloh.
“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Farrah Irvine.”
Though she’d dated Darren for eight months before breaking things off with him, she’d never been out to the farm to officially meet his friends. His “farm family.” They all shook her hand, and welcomed her, and then Tucker said a prayer for the safety and prosperity of the farm and all who worked it. He asked a blessing on the food, and they all moved outside, where the food had been laid out on a long picnic table to eat.
She learned that Shiloh had only been in town for a month, and that she wasn’t particularly religious. She learned that Wadeliked to speak less than Darren did. She learned that Cody had an affinity for dogs the same way Logan had. And she learned that Missy and Tucker had just bought four more horses for next summer’s riding camp.
Finally, Darren stood from the backyard picnic table and said, “We’ll catch up with y’all later.” He tucked her hand in his as they strolled toward the barn. The sky was starting to bruise, and she hurried to saddle the horse he’d given her, a beautiful dark chocolate-colored horse named Mint Brownie.
She swung easily into the saddle, the feel of it against her legs absolutely right. She basked in the evening sunshine as she and Darren steered their steeds toward the tree line beyond the pastures.
He reached over and took her hand. “You’re a beautiful rider,” he said.
“I miss it,” she confessed.
“Yeah?”
She nodded, a smile forming on her face as she realized she’d been depriving herself of things she loved for a long time. And why? Because she didn’t think they were emblems of her authentic self. Because she hadn’t known who she was.
She still didn’t have all of the pieces, but she had several. “I like horseback riding,” she said, more to herself than to Darren.
They rode in companionable silence until Darren pointed up ahead. “There’s the clearing where we usually stop for lunch.”
“You ride out here everyday?”
“I wish.” He chuckled. “Just sometimes. If we’re working in the pastures or the fence lines. Then we pack lunches and eat out here. It’s peaceful.”
That it was. She swung off Mint Brownie and tossed his reins over the same branch Darren did. The two horses began to graze on the tall forest grasses, and Darren spread a blanket on the ground. “If we sit here, we can watch the sun set right overthat hill.” He sat and then moved to the left a few inches before patting the blanket for her to join him.
She did, curling into the warmth of his embrace. “Dinner was great,” she said.
He breathed in deep and then released it. “I can’t lie; Missy made most of it.”
Farrah startled and pulled back to look at him. “You didn’t cook me dinner?”
“I set the table. Does that count?”
“No, it does not.” Farrah giggled and cuddled in closer. “It’s fine. It was grilled chicken and asparagus.”
“And balsamic glaze. Tucker made that.”
Farrah shook her head. “Why didn’t you make it?”
“I was too busy freaking out. They took pity on me.”
“Freaking out? About what?”
He waved his hand toward the horizon. “This. You coming to the farm. Rae. Sam. All of it.”
“What’s wrong with Sam?”
“Nothing. He’s great.”
