James gives me one last assessing look before turning back toward the house. “Dinner’s at six. Don’t be late. And don’t be bringin’ shit on your boots.”
Knox gestures for me to follow him, cutting across the yard toward the smaller single-story home settled on the side of this part of the property. When we’re about halfway to the bunkhouse, a sharp, high-pitched squeal echoes through the air.
My head snaps toward the paddock to see a horse rearing up, its muscles taut and powerful as its front hooves slice through the air. In the saddle, a young blonde woman struggles to maintain her hold. Her body is pitched toward the horse, and her feet dig into the stirrups as she pulls the reins tight for leverage. For a moment, it appears that she’s going to get control, but the horse jerks hard, and she loses it. She falls hard, hitting the dirt with a thud that rattles through my own bones as the horse’s hooves slam to the ground inches from where she landed.
I move on instinct, taking a step to race toward her, only to find myself pulled back by Knox’s hand clamping around my arm. “Hold up.”
My eyes still locked on the paddock, I exclaim, “What if she’s hurt?”
“Teagan?” He laughs. “I’m pretty sure she learned to ride before she learned to walk. And hell, she’s taken falls way harder than that one.”
“That doesn’t mean?—”
“She’s fine,” he insists without an ounce of worry behind his eyes. I’m about to argue further when she rolls to her knees and pushes herself to her feet. She dusts off her jeans with sharp, irritated movement. Blonde hair escapes its tie and whips across her face as she storms toward the horse with a firmlyset jaw.
“See?” Knox muses, releasing my arm. “It’s the horse you should be worried about.”
Teagan grabs the reins and pulls them tight, clearly muttering something to the horse. I can’t make out the words from here, but I can only assume from the look on her face that they aren’t sweet. The horse tosses its head with a snort, and it pulls the reins firmly before she plants her boot in the stirrup and swings herself into the saddle in one smooth, practiced motion.
No hesitation or fear. Just pure grit. I exhale slowly, suddenly aware how fast my pulse is racing. “She always like that?”
“No.” Knox chuckles. “Worse. She’s stubborn as hell. Momma used to say she’s got more fight than sense.”
Dirt streaks along her side, but she doesn’t seem to notice.Or care.As if to prove his point, Teagan urges the horse forward again, guiding it into a tight circle and working to reestablish control.
“C’mon.” Knox nudges me forward toward the bunkhouse. The wooden steps lead to a narrow porch, barely big enough to hold the two of us. Knox pushes the door open and gestures for me to step inside. It’s simple. A few twin beds, mismatched dressers, and a tiny kitchenette that looks out over the open fields. He points to the back of the room. “Closet’s on the left. Bathroom’s on the right. Otherwise, this is it.”
“It’s perfect,” I reply, honestly.
He leans against the doorframe, his head tilted slightly, studying me with the same intensity as his father. “Dad saysyou’re here to work, but I get the feeling that ain’t the whole story.”
I meet his gaze before answering, “It’s enough of it.”
“Fair.”
The rhythmic thud of hooves carries from outside. Through the window, I catch Teagan guiding the horse through another pass, her blonde locks flying in the air behind her.
“Unpack. Dinner is at six.” Knox pushes off the jamb. “And don’t mind Teagan. She tends to be nicer to the horses than the ranch hands.”
I drop my duffel on the bed nearest the door when he disappears out the door. After unzipping it, I pull out the photo of Rosie and place it on the small dresser beside the bed. With a slow exhale, I mutter, “I’m trying, dreamer.”
The barn smells of sweat and hay. It’s the kind of scent that seeps into your skin and never quite washes out. It’s one of the few things I’ve always liked about my simple life.
I run my hand down the length of Daisy’s neck, combing through her mane as she huffs softly and shifts her weight. Dust floats through the late-afternoon light streaming through the open slats, turning the air golden and thick.
After reaching for the curry comb, I work it in steady circles along Daisy’s flank. A groan rattles from me, my shoulder aching from the fall earlier. It’s a dull throb that pulses every time I lift my arm too high. “Maybe talk to Diesel tonight,” I mutter at Daisy as I continue to brush her, feeling the muscles beneath my palm relaxing under my touch. “Tell him he’s a stubborn ass, and I don’t like being tossed to the dirt.”
Footsteps crunch against the gravel near the door, and I call over my shoulder without turning, “You gonna help? Or just stand there looking pretty all night.”
Knox snorts. “Aw, shucks. Did you call just me pretty?”
I glance back at him. He’s leaning against a stall door, blond hair falling into his eyes, and the smug grin that’s been plastered across his face since he was twelve and learned girls thought he was cute. I roll my eyes and go back to brushing Daisy, but the question that’s been sitting on my tongue pushes forward. “Hey.” I keep my tone casual, even though I’m curious as hell. “Who was that?”
Knox tilts his head slightly. “Who?”
“Really, Knox?” I huff.It’s not like this place is crawling with new faces.“The guy you and Dad were showing around. Tall. Big guy. Broody. Looks like he just stepped out of a Kimes ad.”
He barks a laugh and cocks an eyebrow. “That’sveryspecific.”
