Page 4 of The Rancher

There's something wistful in her eyes. “Remy, has nobody ever told you how unbelievably beautiful you are?"

“No.” Her fair cheeks flush slightly. "And it's not that." She stares off toward the sunset again. "It’s just…the thought of owning a home. She sighs.” That's my dream."

"Is that why you're killing yourself working two full-time jobs?"

She looks up at me with a shy smile. "Yes. You’ve heard of tiny houses? I'm going to buy one of those. Then I can find some land and live completely free. If I want to, I can take my house to a different plot of land.” Her smile lights up her eyes. "No more basements. Ever."

The back of my mind is turning, trying to think of a good excuse to keep her here.

The light bulb goes on as I plate our food. "You’re okay eating outside? I feel like you need as much fresh air and daylight as possible. We’ve got half an hour before the rain."

She smiles. "Sure. It's lovely out here."

Of course it's lovely. She's here. This beautiful girl with the sad eyes and lips that are going to haunt me until my dying day.

I wait until she's taken several bites. "So,” I say. “One of the things about this ranch is that we always have our eyes open for abandoned or mistreated animals. The word has spread through our network of acquaintances."

She nods. "So people tell you when they see an abandoned horse?"

"Yes. Or any animal…well, not treated well as it should be, put it that way." Her eyes are huge as she nods, hearing what I'm not quite saying. Nobody wants to think about animals being mistreated.

"There's a farm an hour away with an old horse who looks way too skinny to my friend. He can't tell how healthy it is, but he’s driven by a few times, and it doesn't look good."

"Can you call the sheriff on the owner?" she asks. "Or animal control or something?"

“That's a great idea in theory, but the reality is that’s a ton of red tape that takes months. Meanwhile, that poor horse needs more and better food immediately."

"So what are you going to do?"

I grin, reaching out and gently poking her arm. "You mean, what are we going to do?" Her eyebrow lifts.

"My friend says this farmer is a bit of an asshole. But everybody loves money, right? We’ll go for a country drive, then pull up to the farm. My wife…that’s you, by the way…will gush excitedly about how that horse looks just like the one she had when she was little. Then I’ll swoop in, the big man who wants to spoil his darling, and announce that I’ll pay anything for that horse right now. The farmer will have to sell it to me."

Remy frowns. "So you're going to pay a lot of money to someone who isn't taking care of their horse?"

“The money doesn’t matter. I have plenty. The only thing that’s important is getting that animal to a safe place where he'll be cared for properly."

I extend my hand to her, palm up. When she takes it, sparks flood my entire back, radiating down my arms. The urge to hold her…warm her…feed her…keep her safe… This sweet girl needs shelter from the big bad world. And I will be that for her.

"So what do you say? Tomorrow afternoon, will you play my wife? You’ll have to make up a name for your beloved childhood horse."

Her eyes shine as she smiles. "His name was Prince ClippyClop, and I can't wait to meet his doppelgänger.”

4

REMY

This is already a very weird day.

I mean, yesterday was, too. My first attempt at a vacation in nearly two years, and it ends with a lovely dinner at the home of a rancher who seems completely focused on caring for me?

This morning felt odd, not just because I only worked a few hours last night but also because I slept a solid eight and a half hours for the first time since I had the flu a couple of years ago. The deeply comfortable bed in the large, airy room felt like it could be straight out of a fancy hotel. And it was wonderful to have a leisurely breakfast without rushing to chain myself to the computer.

And now this adventure! I feel genuine excitement surging through my veins as we drive casually up to the rundown farm. Today I have a purpose aside from my own goals. Well, two. I want to save a horse, but I also want Stone to be proud of me. It would be amazing to have someone other than bosses acknowledge when I try hard at something.

Stone slows down as we pass a field with a lone horse staring vacantly at the fence. Even I can see that his bones are too visible. And I don’t think he notices when our large pickup and horse trailer rumble up close to him.

“Is that the one?” I murmur.