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“Have you decided when you’re heading back home?” Poppy asks.

I blow out a breath. “Well, the Hoedown is this weekend, so probably soon after that.”

She frowns, her expression showing how I feel. California no longer feels like home, at least not my only home. I have two homes now, California and Montana. I wish I could be in two places at once, but I can’t.

“Selfishly, I think you should just move here.” She smiles. “I bet my brother wouldn’t mind that, either.”

My face heats, causing Poppy to giggle.

Tripp runs back over toward us. “Miss Hattie, I have an idea!”

I grin at the little boy, who now has a dirt smudge across his chubby cheek. “What’s that?”

“You could teach me how to be a show jumper, just like you.”

I crouch down on my haunches so we’re at eye level. “Really? You want to learn how to jump instead of doing rodeo?”

His mouth pulls up in a wide grin. “Yeah, show jumping is way cooler.”

Poppy snickers from where she stands behind us. “I’m sure Lincoln and Wayne would have something to say about that.”

“I can teach you the basics, but only if it’s okay with your mama.”

He looks up at her with big, shiny puppy-dog eyes. I’m not sure how anyone could say no to this kid. He’s so damn cute.

“That’s fine with me, as long as we’re not commandeering all your time here,” she says.

The idea of teaching Tripp has me buzzing. My mind is full of inspiration for how I could guide him on his first jump. It’s how I used to feel the night before our youth summer camps began. The anticipation of meeting the students, of teaching them the skills they needed. The satisfaction when I watched them perform for their parents at the end of camp.

“Come over again after school tomorrow and we’ll get started,” I tell Tripp.

He jumps up and down. “Yes! I want to start on the highest jump, not that dinky thing.”

My eyebrows raise high on my forehead. “Sorry, Tripp…but Hank’s mares can’t do more than the smallest jump. So, we’ll need to go at their pace.”

He sighs. “Okay, fine.”

Lincoln appears, striding toward us from where he was working on the barn. He’s wearing his cowboy hat, his shirtsleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and his jeans are covered in dust.

Those whiskey eyes meet mine, and I almost forget that Tripp and Poppy are beside me. It feels like my very own Pride and Prejudice moment where Mr. Darcy walks through the grassy field toward Elizabeth. Only in my world it’s a dusty cowboy with work-callused hands. Hands I vividly remember on my body.

Tripp finally notices his uncle and takes off at full speed toward him. Tripp has more energy than anyone I’ve ever seen.

Lincoln catches him, easily picking his nephew up. The two of them are smiling at each other, having a whole conversation.

Lincoln carries Tripp until he’s standing in front of us. His eyes lock on mine again, driving me to distraction until Poppy clears her throat.

“We stopped by to watch Hattie, but we better head home,” she says.

Tripp groans. “Not yet, Mama. I wanna hang out with Miss Hattie.”

“What if she came over for dinner tonight?” Lincoln’s deep voice sends a shiver down my spine. He quirks a brow in silent question.

Poppy brightens. “Yes, we’d love to have you. And I have a homemade chicken noodle soup prepped and ready.”

Tripp looks at me with his big brown eyes. “Will you, Miss Hattie? Please?”

“I’d love to,” I answer easily. I wouldn’t be able to say no to those eyes, even if I wanted to.