Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
JASMINE
Inever understood the fascination with single dads or why some women claimed their ovaries exploded when they saw a good-looking guy with a kid.
Until now.
Cowboy Gabe was hot, but Daddy Gabe was next level.
I got to see it in action over the weekend since he and Rory spent several hours at the ranch between Saturday and Sunday, and it only made me crush on him harder.
It was so heartwarming watching him interact with his daughter.
He was playful and patient, gentle and attentive.
His love for her was undeniable. I couldn’t help but swoon over this version of him.
It was a shame he only got her every other weekend.
He was clearly an involved parent who was dedicated to being a good father.
When I asked him why he didn’t get her more—a question I clearly blurted out without thinking, then immediately wanted to take it back—he explained it was only like that during the school year to provide her with a consistent routine.
Once summer came, he would have her for two weeks at a time.
The way his eyes lit up when he said that made my chest flutter and brought a smile to my lips.
By the time they left Sunday evening, Rory had met my whole family. My nephew Asher had taken to her immediately and cried when she hugged him goodbye. She promised to come back, and that placated him for the time being.
“I think I’m going to start using Petunia for more riding lessons. She really perked up when Rory was riding her,” I said one morning at breakfast. “I think she likes kids.”
“That’s a great idea,” my mom agreed as she pulled a sheet of biscuits from the oven.
“She needs to be ridden more. I haven’t had much time to take her out myself, and I know you’ve been busy with training.
” She was right. Petunia was a small horse, so Mom and I were the only ones in our family who rode her, but Mom was too busy being the brains of our operation, handling the finances, marketing, etc.
to do much riding these days. And I had a full schedule on top of practicing with Juniper, so I didn’t have any time to spare.
Everyone else was too heavy, but she’d be perfect for the kids I gave riding lessons.
Steam rose from the hot biscuits as Mom split them in half.
I added strips of bacon, fried eggs, and slices of cheese to each before wrapping them in parchment paper.
The warm, buttery scent of the biscuits made my mouth water.
Mentally calculating the amount of carbs in each sandwich, I pulled out my insulin pump and gave myself a bolus.
This was the part I struggled with most when I was first diagnosed.
I hadn’t been able to manage my own pump until I was fifteen because I’d miscalculate and give myself too much or too little insulin to cover what I ate.
Now it was like second nature. I knew the carb content of every food item in our kitchen and read nutrition labels religiously.
These days, my only challenge was forgetting to eat when I got busy and lost track of time, which admittedly was happening more often since I was training hard in preparation for my first race.
“Mornin’, Mama,” Rowan said as he entered the kitchen. He bent down to press a kiss to our mom’s cheek like he did every morning before swiping a sandwich off the counter.
“Mornin’, baby,” she replied as she poured a cup of coffee and added a splash of cream. My dad came into the kitchen next and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.
“Mmm, something smells good,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair.
Then he whispered something in her ear that made her giggle.
I was torn between being envious and wanting to vomit.
On one hand … ew. They were my parents. On the other, I wanted what they had.
One day, I wanted to be loved the way my parents loved each other.
I wanted little love notes like the ones Dad left for her on her computer or tucked inside whatever book she was reading at the time.
All I could seem to get were the typical “you up?” or “wyd?” texts from the fuckboys I had regrettably given even a moment of my attention.
When they failed to get in my pants, they took it as a challenge and just kept trying until I finally blocked them.
The dating pool around here was more like the holding tank of a porta potty that’d been sitting in the hot sun all summer.
Dad came over and greeted me next, placing a kiss atop my head before ruffling my hair.
“Mornin’, Spunk,” he said, taking the seat next to me.
I rolled my eyes at his use of my childhood nickname, but a smile curved my lips.
It had started out as Spunky due to my feisty personality, but he shortened it to Spunk years ago.
He didn’t use it as much these days, but when he did, it incited a sense of nostalgia that warmed my chest.
“Mornin’, Pops,” I replied, hooking an arm around his neck and giving him a noogie in retaliation for messing up my braid. Mom had a strict no hats at the table rule, so he was vulnerable to my attack. Dad chuckled and smoothed his hand over his hair before digging into his breakfast.
He checked in with Rowan regarding the new foal our champion thoroughbred sired. Our racehorse breeding and training program was the most lucrative part of our ranch. Stud fees alone kept the lights on around here.
“How’s Juniper looking? She ready for racing season?” he asked, turning to me.
“She’s looking good. I think we’re going to hit our stride this year.” She and I got better and better every racing season. This was the year we would prove ourselves and show the world we were ready for the pro circuit.
“Good,” Dad said with an approving nod. “You’ve worked hard for this. If anyone deserves success, it’s you.”
“Thanks, Pops,” I replied, leaning in to rest my head on his shoulder. When we were finished and all the plates were cleared away, I picked up the tray containing the wrapped breakfast sandwiches and tossed a bunch of bananas on it.
“Want me to take these down to the bunkhouse?” I asked. We only had a few ranch hands who stayed on site, but Mom always tried to make sure they were fed.
“Sure, baby, that’d be great,” Mom replied, giving me a grateful smile.
“Make sure you stop by the rescue barn so you can give one to Gabe. He got an early start this morning, so I doubt he’s had breakfast,” Dad said from the door as he slipped on his cowboy hat.
Butterflies erupted in my stomach at the thought of seeing Gabe again.
It was kind of pathetic the way my heart raced at the mere mention of his name.
“In that case, I better take him some coffee too,” I said, grabbing a travel mug from the cabinet and filling it to the brim.
It was a bit of a hike to get to the bunk house, so I hopped in the side by side, setting the tray of sandwiches and bananas in the passenger seat and placing the coffee in the cup holder.
After dropping off the ranch hands’ breakfast, I proceeded to the rescue barn.
It was newer and larger than the barn by the main house since it held the rescues, the horses we were training, and the ones that were being boarded.
The ranch offered an array of services outside of our racehorse programs, so our barn was always near full capacity.
The barn doors were closed when I pulled up next to Gabe’s truck.
Shutting off the engine, I grabbed the two remaining sandwiches and coffee and hopped out.
Aside from a few soft knickers, the barn was silent when I walked in.
I made my way down the center aisle, looking in each stall, but Gabe was nowhere to be found.
Then I heard it, a high-pitched whinny from outside.
I exited the side door and stepped out into the chilly morning air.
The sun was just beginning to rise over the ridge in the distance.
Gabe was there, in the center of the paddock working with the yearling from the Johnsons’ farm.
I observed quietly from a distance as he moved around the horse, going through different exercises.
Watching him interact with the colt was mesmerizing.
His movements were controlled, yet graceful.
He connected with the horse and earned his trust in a way I’d never seen another trainer do.
Eventually, he looked up and caught sight of me leaning against the barn. I offered him a finger wave, and he tipped his hat. After doing one final exercise, he led the horse over to where I stood watching him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Dad said you were down here, asked if I’d bring you some breakfast,” I replied, producing a sandwich from my pocket. He audibly groaned.
“Is that one of Rae’s famous biscuits?”
“It is,” I confirmed with a chuckle.
“Let me put him up, and I’ll meet you in the loft,” he said, guiding the horse back toward his stall. I took the food and coffee up to the loft where there was a small lounge and sat at the table. Gabe joined me a few minutes later, removing his hat before sinking onto the chair across from me.
“Thank you for this,” he said, holding up one of the sandwiches.
“It sure beats the bag of pretzels and granola bar I swiped from my pantry in my rush to get out the door this morning.” I slid the mug of coffee over to him, and he sighed in contentment.
“You’re an angel,” he declared the second before he brought the travel mug to his lips and took a sip.
“Can you say that again?” I asked teasingly as I pulled my phone from my pocket.
“I need to record it since I have a feeling you will never utter those words to me again.” He chuckled before biting into his sandwich.
“What were you doing here so early anyway?” He usually didn’t get to the ranch until about eight o’clock.
He must’ve been here before six this morning.
“Dash is a little skittish and tends to get anxious when there are lots of people around. I knew if I wanted to have a productive session, I’d have to work with him before the ranch hands got here. They’re a rowdy bunch, even when they’re working.”
I was in awe of this man. He was intuitive and compassionate. He saw things others didn’t. That was what made him such an excellent trainer. He was willing to come out here before the break of dawn, when the world around him was still and quiet to work with a skittish colt.
My heart squeezed in my chest. There were so many layers to this beautiful man.
After seeing him with his daughter, it was clear he was an amazing father.
I could see now why he’d stayed in his marriage for so long.
His top priority was Rory and trying to give her the best life he could.
According to her, both her parents were happier now than they ever had been together.
He was selfless and kind, and damn if that didn’t make him even more attractive.
“I guess it’s a good thing you came back then. Someone needs to wrangle those boys,” I said, trying to ignore the way my skin prickled beneath his gaze.
“I’m surprised you haven’t done that already.
Only a good woman can tame a cowboy, and they’re about your age.
” The suggestion hung in the air between us, and it felt a little probing, more like a question he didn’t want to ask.
It was probably just wishful thinking, and he was simply making conversation.
I snorted a laugh and shook my head. “Jeremiah and Cody are like brothers to me. Besides, I’ve tried dating guys my age. Hard pass.”
His brows tipped up in surprise, and he studied me curiously. “What’s wrong with guys your age?”
“Have you met them?” I asked incredulously.
“They all want to be podcasters or YouTubers, and if they’re not addicted to video games, they’re addicted to porn.
” Gabe choked on the sip of coffee he’d just taken and coughed several times to clear his throat.
I fought to suppress my amusement at his flushed face.
Who knew that word would get him so riled up?
“They can’t all be that bad,” he croaked out.
“The rodeo guys aren’t like that, but I haven’t found one yet that’s interested in a relationship. They all just want to smash and dash.”
A crease formed between his brows. “Smash and dash?”
“I believe your generation called it something else,” I replied, tapping my finger on my chin as though trying to recall the phrase. “Ah, yes, hit it and quit it.”
He chuckled. “Okay, smartass.” I laughed too, enjoying our easy banter. “I take it that’s not what you’re looking for?” I shook my head. Hookup culture wasn’t for me. I needed to feel a connection with someone, needed to trust them before I let them into my body.
“What are you looking for?” he asked, and I could almost swear there was a hint of intrigue in his tone.
“Companionship. Loyalty. Someone I can laugh with. Someone who respects me and shares my dreams. Someone who values family above all else.” He dipped his head in a subtle nod of agreement. “I want substance, not just a hookup.”
“You’re a lot wiser than I was at your age. It took me nearly a decade longer to figure that out, and by then it was too late. Now here I am, thirty-seven, divorced, and starting over again. At least I’ve got a really awesome kid to show for it.”
“You do. Rory is amazing.” Despite whatever problems Gabe and Celeste had, they’d raised a pretty great kid. “And even though things didn’t go as planned, I think you’re right where you were meant to be.”
A contented smile graced his lips, and a peaceful expression settled over his features. “I think you might be right.”
I just hoped he’d stay this time.