I straightened, immediately wary. "I am. And you are?"
"Maddy Hargrove." She dismounted with practiced ease. "My dad told me about you. That you're Ray's niece, and you came back to take care of the place."
My entire body went rigid.
"You're Wyatt's daughter," I said, and it came out flat, almost accusatory.
Maddy blinked, clearly surprised by my tone. "Yeah. I'm guessing you know my dad?"
Know him? I wanted to laugh.Your dad has made my life hell since I got back. Your dad thinks he has some claim to this land. Your dad looks at me like I'm an intruder, even though I grew up here.
“Yeah, I know him,” I said carefully.
"Oh." Maddy shifted her weight, picking up on the tension even if she didn't understand it. "Dad told me Ray passed away. I'm really sorry."
The genuine sympathy in her voice made some of my defensiveness crack. "Thank you. Did you know him?"
"Yeah." A sad smile crossed Maddy's face. "I used to visit him every time I came to stay with my dad. Usually in the summer or on long weekends. Ray was really cool. He let me ride his horses and taught me how to fix the fence line. He told the worst jokes."
My throat tightened unexpectedly. Ray had told terrible jokes. I'd grown up hearing them until I left at eighteen.
"He did tell terrible jokes," I agreed quietly.
"The worst," Maddy said, and for a second we just looked at each other, two people who'd both lost Ray, even if in very different ways.
"Your horse is beautiful," I said finally, gesturing to the chestnut mare who was now trying to reach the grass on the other side of the fence.
"Thanks. Her name's Cinnamon." Maddy ran a hand down the mare's neck. "Ray helped my dad pick her out for me, actually. When I was seven. He said she had good lines."
"That was nice of him," I managed.
Maddy studied me with those sharp grey eyes that were somuch like her father's. "Dad said you hadn't been back in a long time. Since you were like eighteen or something?"
"Yeah," I said shortly. "I left and didn't come back until he passed away.”
"That's a long time to be away." There was no judgment in her voice, just curiosity.
"It is." I wasn't about to explain to Wyatt Hargrove's daughter why I'd stayed away, why I'd let anger and pain keep me from the man who'd raised me.
Maddy glanced at her horse, then back at me. "Look, I'm sorry for just showing up. I was riding, and I always used to stop by to see Ray, and I guess I just, I don't know. I wanted to see the place again. And Dad mentioned you were here, so I thought I'd say hi."
Part of me wanted to send her away. She was Wyatt's daughter, and Wyatt Hargrove was trying to claim grazing rights to land that belonged to Ray, to me now, even if the will was still in probate. Every interaction with anyone connected to him felt like a potential complication.
But another part of me, the part that loved Ray even when I was too stubborn and hurt to come back, the part that was drowning in guilt over the years I wasted, couldn't turn away a kid who missed him too.
"Your horse looks hot," I said finally. "You want to put her in the paddock for a bit? Let her cool down? I have water."
Maddy's face lit up. "Really? That'd be great. We've been riding for like an hour."
We got Cinnamon settled in the paddock with fresh water, and the mare immediately started rolling in the dirt with pure joy.
"She always does that," Maddy said, smiling as she watched. "No matter how clean I get her, she finds dirtimmediately."
"Sounds like every horse I've ever known," I said, and was surprised to find myself almost smiling.
We walked toward the house, and I was hyperaware of how strange this was, offering hospitality to the daughter of a man I couldn't stand, a man who made it clear he thought I had no right to be here after abandoning Ray for so long.
I poured two glasses of iced tea, and we sat at the kitchen table. "So," Maddy said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. "You and my dad aren't getting along."
