Chapter 13 #2
"I told you, he doesn't go by London here.
People here know him as Dallas. You know why I don't talk about London, and finding out he has an entirely different identity here didn't change that, but I did ask her what she knows about him.
Asha never mentioned he was Trigg's brother.
She's heard of him, but her understanding is he was the hot new farmhand, not relation. "
She taps her French-tipped nail on the back of her phone. "You know I've been thinking about that. Trigg could have been using that term loosely, not literally. They could be second or third cousins, and he considers him more of a brother than a cousin."
I blow out an anxious breath and lay my head against the seat rest. "Maybe. Your guess is as good as mine."
Her hand squeezes my thigh. "Look, we're here," she says as a sign made of hammered iron with the words "HALE RANCH" suspended from a sturdy wooden frame comes into view before the driver turns down the long, winding gravel road.
Asha was bummed she couldn't crash with Sydney today.
Her father had a vital investor brunch an hour outside of Bardstown this afternoon, and he insisted Asha attend with him since she is expected to take on a leading role at Fairfield.
The gravel road stretches into the distance, the limestone crunching beneath the tires as traditional pristine white fences pass by the windows on either side.
It's nothing like Fairfield. Fairfield commands awe with its grandeur from the moment your eyes glimpse the place.
Every carefully manicured detail announces its pedigree—a stark contrast to Hale Ranch.
Behind the fence, a few horses are grazing peacefully in expansive paddocks.
In the distance, I can see a few barns, their metal roofs reflecting the sunlight.
And nestled among a few shade trees ahead is the main house.
It's not pretentious, boasting wings for entertaining potential investors.
The house isn't boastful like Asha's but, in its simplicity, is everything.
The white clapboard siding contrasts beautifully against the charcoal gabled roof.
The silhouette with the backdrop of the landscape is utterly breathtaking, but it's the turret and generous wrap-around porch that add a touch of whimsicality to the property, truly making it something plucked right out of a dream.
It's charming. I never would have guessed Hale Ranch was one of Fairfields biggest competitors had Asha not shared that with me.
Hale Ranch feels like a step back in time, and I'm beginning to understand why Trigg suggested I'd probably be more comfortable here. I would be—because this is my dream.
"Look over there. That must be where the wedding is going to be held."
I look out the opposite window, and a lake comes into view. White wooden chairs stand in perfect rows along the grassy bank, creating an aisle that leads directly to a dock. At the end, a gazebo perches over the water, draped in baby's breath and elegant white snapdragons.
My heart doesn't just skip—it falters then plummets.
The lake was ours. Not this exact one, but back home in Willow Creek, we shared countless days fishing, swimming, and hanging out on the banks of Lake Texoma.
So many firsts were spent together on those banks.
Seeing him choose this venue for his big day is like a knife to the heart.
It's like he's taken our memories and deliberately rewritten them.
It's that intention that has my anger returning. How could he be so cruel?
The car comes to a stop, and Syd grabs my hand. "You ready to do this?"
"Yeah, I am," I confirm. I'm tired of hurting, but more than that, I'm tired of living in the past and grieving over a man who clearly no longer thinks about me.
"Good, because there's a fine-looking cowboy headed toward the car."
"That's Trigg."
"Really?" she asks, her tone dispirited. "Damn, he's better than the pictures. Too bad he's a Hale."
I laugh. "Don't worry. After today, we can go into town anytime you please, and you can lasso yourself a cowboy that's not Hale blood."
"I'm holding you to that." She opens the door on her side. "You owe me a tour on the Bourbon Trail."
"I know." I roll my eyes with a smile right before Trigg pulls open the door on my side. He extends his hand. "How'd you know I'd be in this car?"
"I'm familiar with Fairfield's town car." I narrow my eyes, his comment easily being read one of two ways. He sees the direction of my thoughts and quickly adds, "Small town. Not because I've frequented their backseats."
"Right," I say skeptically as I step out of the car.
Asha is adamant there never was, nor will there ever be, anything between them, but I can't shake the feeling that he's using me, just like Asha.
I don't believe Asha would flat-out lie to me, but I also wouldn't put it past her to leave out details.
After all, we all have pasts, indiscretions, and skeletons we wish to keep hidden.
It's why I don't press. I have secrets too .
"You look incredible," Trigg says, drinking me in from head to toe with one long glance.
I didn't wear white, but I did wear eat-your-heart-out yellow, fashioned in the same style I wore to prom the night we lost our virginity.
London couldn't keep his eyes or hands off me that night, and while I may not have his heart anymore, I know he still looks.
His eyes did a long, slow perusal the day we saw each other at the stables and again the night he told me to leave town, and I'm counting on them to do the same thing today when I show up on his brother's arm.
"Ahem," Sydney clears her throat, announcing her presence.
"Trigg, this is one of my oldest and dearest friends, Sydney Downs. I hope it's not an issue I brought her. We can stand under a tree…far away, and we won't touch any of the food?—"
"Stop. Dallas is a prickly fucker, no doubt, but there is plenty of food and drink." He extends his hand to Sydney. "You said your last name was Downs. Any relation to Rupert Downs?"
"Yes, Rupert Downs is my father."
"Really?" he says, a tad surprised but not fully. "Small world."
"How small?" she questions with a raised eyebrow.
"Trigg," a cheery female voice interrupts before he can respond. "Is this your new girl?" a petite redhead wearing a short red dress says, strolling up beside Trigg and wrapping her hands around his bicep.
"Madison," he greets. "This is Laney Hart and her friend Sydney Downs."
Her fire-engine-red lips part into a big smile. "So, it is you. You're the horse whisperer I've been hearing so much about."
Trigg coughs into his hand. "I wouldn't say that. I literally mentioned you once at dinner earlier in the week."
Dinner? They don't look related, but maybe she's family.
"Oh, stop." She swats his chest before stepping beside me and wrapping her arm through mine as though we've been best friends forever.
Sydney's eyebrows rise in surprise when my eyes catch hers.
Most Southerners are welcoming. You can meet someone for the first time and feel like you're part of the family within seconds, but given the venue, I can't help but be hesitant about warming up to anyone here.
For all I know, she's a sister I didn't know existed.
She slowly starts walking us toward an elaborate wedding tent.
"I know we only just met, and you don't know me, but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind looking at my horse while you're here. "
"I'm not sure what Trigg told you about me, but I'm not a trainer."
"I know, but he did mention you have an eye for identifying a horse's temperament and retirement needs, and that's what I'm looking for.
You see, I've been riding my horse, Gypsy, for years, but he's not keeping pace the way he used to, and it's causing me to dismount in the middle of my performance. "
"Dismount? Performance… Wait, are you a competitive vaulter?"
She's a tiny little thing. Her hair and outfit tonight even foot the bill for a vaulter. This must be the friend Trigg mentioned before. I assumed his friend would be a man, though I'm unsure why.
"I am. Are you familiar with the sport?" she asks hopefully.
"Not really. I caught a performance two years ago and thought it was amazing. That takes a lot of skill to get on the back of a horse and do a full gymnastics routine."
She can't be more than five feet, two inches tall, lean, and toned, but now that I know her job, her outgoing personality makes much more sense.
Madison is an entertainer. With her flaming-red hair, dress, and painted lips, she looks like a figure skater ready to take the ice.
I wonder if she's here today to perform.
"Is your horse here today?"
"Oh no, but he will be in two days. He's currently being driven back from a show we did in California. So, what do you say? Will you take a look?"
"I'm sorry. I wish I could help, but I don't live here. I don't have somewhere for you to drop him off, where I can take a look at him."
"I can bring him here to Hale Ranch."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"And why not? I know Trigg wouldn't mind having you around more often."
"She's not wrong," Trigg tosses in from her left.
"It's not Trigg that I'm worried about."
Her hand tightens on my arm. "Then who?" she asks with concern.
"I don't think Dallas wants me around."
"If Dallas is your only reason for not working with Gypsy, then consider this settled.
Gypsy will be here Tuesday, and you come out on Wednesday, and I'll show you my routine.
Don't worry about Dallas. Leave him to me," she says before untangling her arm from mine.
"I'll catch up later," she adds before making her way to the main house.