Chapter Five
The whole town of Harvest Ranch was in a dither about the Harvest Festival starting the next day. Most of Hunter’s family was at the fairgrounds, helping with last-minute preparations on the booths his extended family sponsored each year.
Swayzie and her fiancé, Lucky, were up in the hills, checking on the herd. They’d need to bring the cattle in for the winter before snow hit in November. For now, they grazed on grasses and vegetation. He’d sent twelve of his horses up there—including one of his prized broodmares, keeping the other two at the ranch. He’d bought the sisters, Knabstrupper horses, last year. The breed came from the same Viking history his family claimed, and he’d always felt a kinship with the horses that sported Dalmatian-like spots.
The older of the two sisters, Penny, was in the barn, in training, and sometimes even in trouble. Perdie was too young to train and ran with the herd. He hoped to breed her on her next cycle, but the stud he’d wanted at the auction hadn’t shown up. Frantic, he’d asked around and discovered that the owner had taken ill and moved the horse out a week ago. He still had time before Penny was ready for a stud, so he’d tucked his wallet back in his pocket and left the auction with an empty trailer.
Despite the setback, he wasn’t discouraged. Somehow, he’d managed to have a few hours to himself this morning, which he desperately needed to use to work with Penny. The horse was in training and doing beautifully, but if she wasn’t ridden regularly, she had a tendency to get a little high in her instep with him.
An excitement, the one that usually came when he was working toward his dream, began to carry his steps as he pushed his training hat down on his head.
He was weird, and he knew that. Checking a task off his to-do list each day gave him a sense of accomplishment. As far as he knew, he was the only one in the family who felt this way. Swayzie was focused, but she didn’t write lists. Wyatt was busy all day long, but he took all his joy from being with his small family—at least, he was trying to. What made that guy tick was a mystery to all of them. Maverik was a bit of a wild card. He’d go along with what felt right in the moment. And Tess? She was a free spirit.
But Hunter liked lists. He liked order. Fresh-cut rows of hay, lined up perfectly, were a thing of pride. People talked about how pretty Virginia was—and Harvest Ranch especially. But the real beauty was creating order out of chaos and mow strips in the lawn.
He whistled as he pushed out the screen door on the back of the family house. Yes, he still lived at home. The ranch wouldn’t run itself, and there was no way he was going to buy a condo or rent an apartment just to commute back home every day—that was crazy. His parents had given him a plot of land down by Wyatt’s house at the top of the lane. He planned to build a place of his own just as soon as he was established in the horse-training business. Shouldn’t take long …
“Yah!”
Hunter’s head whipped up and he glared at the arena. For a neighbor who was supposed to stay on her side of the fence, Zoey had spent a lot of time on Westbrook property the last three days. So far he’d been able to avoid her, but that also meant avoiding his horses, and that was unacceptable.
She finished up the pole run at an impressive clip and pulled her horse to a stop. She was riding the older horse, the one that looked like he’d been through the high school circuit with Zoey. He probably had. Hadn’t Brandon said something about his dad buying them all horses?
She glanced up from rubbing the horse’s neck and saw him staring.
His pulse spiked, and he was moving away from her before he knew where he was going. For some reason, he climbed up into the large tractor they used to rake the arena and started it up. Not that the arena needed raking, but he needed a reason to be out of the barn for a few minutes while Zoey unsaddled and drove away. Darn it all, why did she have to come to his place to practice anyway? There were other arenas in town.
None closer to Brandon’s house, though. He refused to think of it as Zoey’s house. She was a guest. Living in the guest house. It was all temporary. She’d be back to her hometown in no time. He just had to wait her out. Then he’d be free to walk around Harvest Ranch—and his own home—without worrying whether his shirt was tucked in or not.
The tractor rumbled to a start, and he put it in gear, intent on making his first round. He pressed the gas and spun the wheel. No sooner had he gone around once than Zoey was off her horse and carrying poles back to their place along the fence line. Well, that was decent of her. Even if it did mean he had to putter around out here for a while longer as she finished up.
When he’d done a thorough job of raking the dirt, he parked the tractor and climbed down.
“Hey!” Zoey waved at him from atop her fully saddled horse.
Great. Didn’t she know when a guy was trying to avoid her?
She trotted over and came alongside him as he started for the barn. “That’s an impressive tractor.”
Of all the things he’d thought she’d say, that one had never crossed his mind. He looked over his shoulder at the old John Deere. There was a headlight missing, and the shine was long worn off the paint. Was she teasing him? “Thanks?”
“Could it rake up anything, anywhere?” She leaned forward in the saddle.
“Uh …” Hunter worked to think through the answer. “It would depend on what was in the ground. The rake is just for soft dirt. If there were roots and things, we’d need another attachment on the back to harrow.”
She settled back into her seat. “Hmm. I’m going to need to look into this a little more.”
He wasn’t sure what “this” was, but he had a feeling he didn’t want to get involved. “Okay.” Hunter picked up his pace.
Unfortunately, his long legs were no match for a horse, and Zoey kept pace with him. “Aren’t you supposed to be festivalling with the rest of the town?”
“Festivalling?” He smirked at the unfamiliar word.
She rolled her eyes. “The Harvest Festival? The whole town is in a tizzy over that thing.”
Hunter allowed himself to smile.Tizzydidn’t quite cover it. “I happen to have the morning off offestivalling. And I like to spread my festivalling out over the whole month—savor the experience.”
She laughed. “I’m headed over later to help set up Allie’s booth.”
