Does it make his stomach feel as unsettled as mine?
“You guys here for the horses first?” she asks cheerfully, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb. “They’re right this way.”
“Um—” I glance at Brady, but he just smiles and nods. There’s something pure about the way he looks out here. Despite all the money and class he’s been raised with, it’s like he belongs to the great outdoors and the mud.
“Sure, let’s say hello,” he says. “You ridden a horse before, Lena?”
“Oh man. Not for years, but ... I can give it a go.”
“That’s the spirit! I’ll bring you our best,” Wendy says cheerfully. “You two wait here while I bring ’em around. Maybe you can get a few shots in for your socials, Brady?” She winks. “Every trip’s business with him.”
I have no idea how he’s managed to make friends with these folks, but when she leaves, I lean in and whisper, “Doeseveryonejust love you?”
“Everyone but my old man. With Wendy, I don’t mind. We go way back.”
I have to repress a laugh, smothering it in my cuff.
“It’s a nice place. The air alone out here is heaven.” I lean against the fence, careful not to leave my fingers too close to a goat watching me warily.
“I love visiting.”
“I bet.” I nudge his side. “Especially if they let you ride around whenever you like.”
He smiles, catching my hand and folding it in his.
“Wendy offers riding lessons here. Whenever she puts me on a horse and I post about it, she always sees a bump in bookings.”
“Mm, that’s cool.” I remember seeing the pictures now.
Which means that I also know he looks ridiculously good on a horse. This man is wasted behind a desk, and I’m so glad his ventures keep him out in the world.
“So, really, she’s getting more out of the relationship than you.”
“No. They can grow organic produce and raise grass-fed beef at prices no one else in western Washington can touch. For us, that means cheaper ingredients, less shipping, and hopefully an answer to my cost-control problem.”
I chew my lip, looking at him. This is the most detail I’ve heard about his new company.
Of course, I know what he’s trying to do is difficult. But it’s different hearing how hard it’s been, how much thought must go into a project that sounds deceptively easy.
“Do you think you’re making progress?” I ask quietly.
“Hope so. Last taste trials didn’t go so well with the dogs. Too much barley. Let’s just say they weren’t impressed.” He looks behind me and waves as he sees Wendy leading two horses into the yard.
Horses aren’t my specialty. I think Pawsome Hearts has only ever had two visits in the time I’ve worked there, and both from riders passing through and needing a quick checkup before getting back on the road. But from what I can tell, these guys look like good specimens.
Tall, muscular, healthy, they follow along as gentle as lambs after Wendy.
“Here you are,” she says. “All saddled up and ready to ride.”
I eye the horse she’s offering me. It snorts gently.
“This one’s Silver. We love her to bits, and she’s very docile,” she says as I take the reins. The horse’s coat is silver grey and beautiful, true to her name.
That bodes well.
“Storm, nice to see you again,” Brady says, delighted. He presses a kiss to the horse’s soft nose and swings up into the saddle.
It’s almost obscene how good he is at this—the way he leaps up like a born cowboy. This is far from his first rodeo, I’m sure.
