If Charlotte hadn’t taken off after they’d mucked the stalls, Gunner wouldn’t have gotten much done. Ever since that kiss last night, he’d been lost in thoughts of her. And seeing her this morning, all fresh and beautiful despite the lack of sleep, hadn’t helped. He’d known it would be that way between them. Explosive.
Had he ever had a kiss like that one? A rhetorical question, because no, he had not. He and Charlotte were like fuel on a fire. But it wasn’t just their chemistry. Their time together was always easy and natural. He respected her dedication to family, her business sense, and her passion for horses. She was warm and kind and vulnerable in a way that drew him. Her kiss had been like taking all those wonderful, noncombustible qualities and setting them aflame.
And man, did he want to kiss her again.
If he put aside his hormones a minute, he could agree she was right to be cautious. Their feelings had obviously grown well beyond friendship over the past five months. If he examined his own too closely, he might discover he was wading into the deep end of the pool. He was probably up to his neck already. How had that happened?
It didn’t take a genius to see their futures didn’t exactly align. He had a dream job waiting in Kentucky and—if he was honest—an aversion to close connections. Could he overcome that? He’d never been tempted to try.
But he was tempted now.
Adding to his issues, Charlotte had been burned once before by that boyfriend leaving her high and dry. That had obviously left a mark. Gunner didn’t want to hurt her. Would it be fair to build something together when he wasn’t sure if he could give up his roaming ways? When he wasn’t sure he knew how to build a real relationship? Or even had the guts to try?
That last part was hard to admit. But it was the truth. He already had real feelings for her. It was just less scary to focus on that amazing kiss than all the rest.
It seemed like a good time to bury himself in work. He grabbed a bridle and carried it to the paddock where Midnight waited. The horse had allowed Gunner to put a bridle on him last week for the first time. Gunner had repeated the process every day since.
Midnight approached, his tail loose and swinging freely. His ears pointed toward Gunner. Good signs.
“Hey, buddy. How’s it going?” He stroked the horse’s muzzle a minute, then slipped the bridle over Midnight’s head. The horse’s jaw and nostrils stayed nice and relaxed. They were making headway.
Midnight nickered softly.
“That’s a nice new trick you’ve got there. Happy to see me, are you? I’m glad to see you too.”
All signs indicated the gelding was ready for more. Ready to trust. Adrenaline shot through his veins at the comingchallenge. Today would be Midnight’s big day. He could feel it. “Let’s do this, buddy. You ready?”
Twenty minutes later, Gunner free lunged Midnight around the ring, spinning his line to tap the gelding’s heels. Gunner kept his posture tall and relaxed, his tone calm and confident. He’d done this a hundred times, but every horse was different. And Midnight had been a real challenge this summer. A long, slow challenge.
But the horse was cooperating well today, all things considered. Every time Midnight followed his instruction, Gunner eased up the pressure.
“Good boy,” he cooed when the horse followed his command to change directions. “You’ve got this.” He had Midnight’s full attention now. The horse was waiting for the next instruction, the ear closest to Gunner turned his way. He was ready.
Gunner coiled up the lunge line, dropped eye contact, and softened his body language. He closed the hand closest to Midnight and brought it across his stomach, turned his back on the horse. Took a few steps. Even with his back turned, he stayed alert to the horse’s movements and waited.
Soon the quiet clomping of the horse’s hooves grew louder as Midnight approached. A moment later, the gelding pushed his muzzle over Gunner’s shoulder.
Gunner couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. It never got old, that moment when a horse decided to trust. But this particular victory was especially rewarding. He turned and stroked Midnight’s forehead. “Yeah, that’s right. Good job,buddy. You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Just needed a little kindness. A little patience.”
Movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He wasn’t alone. Charlotte stood at the fence line, beaming at him with pride. And he beamed right back at her.
Thirty-Four
The forest’s shade offered a welcome reprieve from the hot afternoon sun. From somewhere in the leafy canopy above, a robin tweeted, and in the distance the rushing sound of the waterfall carried through the woods. Brittle leaves crunched under the horses’ hooves, stirring up the loamy scent of earth. Charlotte breathed in the pleasant scent of autumn.
She led the way on Firefly while Gunner followed on Rogue. The latter had been unhappy about leaving Daisy behind in the stable. But the new mama was too distracted by her colt to notice her barnyard buddy’s departure.
As if by silent agreement, Charlotte and Gunner kept their discussion casual on the ride to the falls. The conversation had turned once again to Emerson’s lack of interest in the business. “Did I tell you she asked about finding someone to take her place with the trail rides?”
“Maybe it’s time to hire that extra hand.”
“I’m not sure it’s in the budget just yet. But it’s not just the immediate workload that troubles me. This place has alwaysbeen a family operation, and now it’s just me. I don’t know if I can do this alone.” She swatted a fly away. “But I don’t want to think about that right now. Let’s talk about your progress with Midnight. I’m so glad I caught the Join-Up this morning. What a magical moment.”
“It’s been slow work but rewarding too. He’s got a lot of potential.”
“The first time I saw him, I was afraid he was a lost cause. I’ve never seen such a traumatized horse. And I’ve known horses with less severe issues that never came around.”
“Most of them just require time and patience.”
