By the time I finished,the storm had downgraded from “apocalyptic” to “dramatic background noise.”
Rain still drummed against the barn roof, but the thunder had moved east, grumbling in the distance like it had somewherebetter to be. The horses were calm. The barn was secure. Everything was where it was supposed to be.
Except me.
I was supposed to be inside playing host. Instead, I was standing in the barn aisle, soaked to the bone, staring at the door Graham had walked through and trying to talk myself into walking through it too.
You’re being ridiculous. He’s a guest. You’re the owner. This is your job.
My job. Right.
I forced my feet to move.
The cold hit me the second I stepped outside. The rain had eased to a steady downpour, but my clothes were plastered to my skin and the wind cut through the wet fabric. I crossed the yard at a jog, boots squelching in the mud, and ducked into my cabin.
I didn’t let myself think. Thinking was dangerous right now.
I peeled off my soaked shirt, my jeans, my socks, everything, and left the whole mess in a pile on the bathroom floor. Hot water from the sink. Quick scrub of my face. Clean flannel, dry jeans, wool socks that felt like a hug from a better version of my life. I yanked my damp hair into a knot and checked the mirror long enough to confirm I looked like a ranch owner who’d handled a storm, not a woman who’d been held upright by a man’s hands on her waist and was still thinking about it three stalls and a clothing change later.
Stop.
I stopped. Gripped the edge of the sink. Breathed until my reflection looked like someone who had her life under control.
Close enough.
I let go of the sink, grabbed my jacket off the hook by the door, and headed for the main house.
Through the front window, I could see the group gathered around the fireplace. Kaya had handled dinner while I’d been in the barn. Plates scattered across the coffee table, mugs in everyone’s hands, the ease of people who’d survived something together and were bonding over the relief of being warm and dry.
Graham sat slightly apart from the others. Not isolated. Just adjacent, like he was comfortable being near people without needing to be in the middle of them. He’d changed into a dry sweater that looked soft and worn in a way that made me want to touch it.
I shouldn’t want to touch it.
I wanted to not notice it.
I took a breath, put on my business face, and pushed open the door.
“There she is!” Kaya’s voice carried across the room, bright and relieved. “I was about to send a search party.”
“Horses needed settling,” I said, hanging my jacket on the hook by the entry. “Everyone okay?”
“Better than okay.” Dex lifted his mug in a toast. “That was the most excitement we’ve had since Jamie tried to pet a wild boar in Scotland.”
“It was friendly,” Jamie protested.
“It charged you,” Olivia said flatly.
“Friendly charging.”
My mouth twitched despite myself.
This was easier. The banter. The warmth of people who weren’t expecting anything from me except hot food and dry shelter. I could do this. I’d been doing this my whole career.
My eyes drifted to Graham.
He was already looking at me. Not staring. Not obvious about it. Just checking, the way someone does when they want to make sure you’re okay but don’t want to make it a thing.
I turned toward the kitchen.
