“And this isn’t a date.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I didn’t say it was.”
“Good.” I swung into the saddle and gathered the reins. “Keep up.”
We headed north through the east pasture, following the fence line toward the tree break. Cassie moved underneath me with easy, ground-eating strides that always settled my nerves.
Neither of us spoke.
It should have been awkward. Two people who’d been kissing twelve hours ago, now riding in silence through a Colorado forest. But the silence wasn’t heavy. It was the comfortable kind, the kind that happened when you were moving through landscape that didn’t require conversation.
Graham rode well. Better than well. He and Brutus moved together like they'd been partners for years, not weeks, his body absorbing the motion instead of fighting it, his hands quiet on the reins.
“He really trusts you,” I said, before I could stop myself.
Graham looked up. “Sorry?”
“Brutus.” I nodded at the gelding’s ears, which were tipped forward and relaxed. “He only trusts about three people. Me, Hank, and apparently you.”
“Should I be flattered?”
“You should be aware that he’ll use it against you. The more he trusts you, the more creative he gets about stealing food out of your pockets.”
Graham laughed, and the sound settled warm and unwelcome in my stomach.
The trail narrowed as we climbed into the aspens. Golden leaves drifted down around us, catching the light, turning the path into something that looked staged. I could almost hear Jamie crying about not being here with her camera.
“When’s the last time you rode this trail for fun? Not to check it. Not for a guest. Just for you.”
I didn’t answer immediately, because the honest answer was embarrassing.
“I don’t remember,” I admitted.
“That’s what I thought.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you built something beautiful and you never let yourself enjoy it.” His voice was matter-of-fact, not accusatory. “You run this place like a general. Every ride has a purpose. Every hour has a task. When’s the last time you just... sat with it?”
The trail opened onto a ridge, and I pulled Cassie to a stop. Below us, the valley spread out in layers of gold and green, the ranch visible in the distance. Tiny, perfect, mine.
I hadn’t looked at it from up here in over a year.
“It’s different when it’s yours,” I said quietly. “When it’s yours, you can’t just enjoy it. You see every fence that needs fixing. Every bill that needs paying. Every way it could fall apart.”
“Aye.” Graham brought Brutus alongside Cassie, close enough that our boots nearly touched in the stirrups. “But you also get to see this.”
He gestured at the view. The valley, the mountains, the incredible blue of the sky.
“And this is worth sitting with,” he said. “Even for five minutes.”
I looked at the view. Then I looked at him.
He was watching me, not the mountains. The morning light hit his face at an angle that turned his eyes the color of molten emerald, and there was no defense against the way he looked at me. Not admiration, not desire, though both were there. Just... seeing me. The way he’d seen me in the lounge. The way he’d seen me in the barn during the storm.
Like I was the view.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I said.
