He wanted more of it.
He wanted mornings and ranch dust and Ben laughing with dogs and Summer looking at him like she could trust what was building between them.
Pope cleared his throat before the feeling got too big and led them out to the paddock.
At his whistle, Flint gave a self-important toss of his majestic head and trotted over to the fence.
He reached out to stroke the horse. “This is him. My horse.”
Summer’s jaw dropped. “You never told me you have a horse!”
“He’s a project I’ve been working on.”
The black gelding stuck his head over the fence, ears forward, watching Pope like he expected payment for being present to be admired.
Ben whispered, “Whoa.”
Summer stepped closer, her hand resting lightly on the fence. “He’s beautiful.”
“His name’s Flint.” Pope stroked Flint’s neck, the horse leaning into the touch. “He’s going to auction soon.”
Ben’s face fell. “You’re selling him?”
“That’s the plan. It’s the goal my friend Willow set for me—train Flint and see what he fetches at auction.”
He rubbed a hand down the horse’s shining coat, feeling Flint shift beneath his palm. “Willow taught me everything I know. I didn’t grow up around horses. Never thought I’d be a horse guy. But I discovered I had a passion for this, as well as an ability.”
Summer’s expression turned gentle in a way that made him feel less like a patient or even a bodyguard, but a man who had found a piece of himself he hadn’t known existed.
“Let me show you.” Pope climbed the fence and caught Flint’s halter, leading him into the open.
He probably showed off a little.
More than a little.
He put the gelding through easy movements first, then tighter turns and controlled stops, all while Ben’s face got brighter every time Flint responded. Summer leaned against the rail with her arms folded, laughing when Ben shouted encouragement like he was personally coaching the horse.
Pope hadn’t felt this light in a long damn time.
After that, he saddled three horses and they went for a ride. Nothing fast or risky, just a slow trail across the open land with Ben riding in front of Pope and Summer on a steady mare. The mountains rose ahead of them, the air cold enough to sharpen every breath, and Ben talked almost the entire time.
Pope didn’t mind.
Summer kept looking over at them, and every time she did, her face held a softness that made his chest tighten around a future he had no business wanting so badly.
As they returned to the barn, the sound of excited voices drifted to them. They turned the corner to see the yard had erupted into chaos.
People poured out of the buildings, voices rising and falling with excitement. Someone whooped loud enough to startle a horse in the next paddock.
He took care of the horses quickly and they all headed toward the middle of the yard that had always been a happy spot to strike up a conversation, or in this case, have a reunion.
Willow came rushing across the yard toward them, smiling so wide Pope knew whatever happened had nothing to do with danger.
“What’s going on?” Summer asked.
Willow clapped her hands together. “Theo and Juliette are married!”
Pope blinked. “What?”
