Chapter Four #3
“Vulcan. He’s been with me six years.”
“Vulcan? Like Mr. Spock?” She laughed.
Ethan shook his head. “No. Vulcan means Roman god of fire. It fits his coloring.”
She turned back to the gelding, running her hand along his jaw, taking her time with him. Vulcan’s ears relaxed forward, which was not something he did quickly with strangers.
“He knows he’s beautiful,” she said.
“He does.” Ethan handed her Jewel’s reins. “Don’t tell him too often. His head’s big enough.”
She laughed and turned to Jewel, checking the saddle herself before she mounted. He noticed that. A rider who trusted but verified.
He swung up onto Vulcan and the gelding shifted beneath him, ready.
“Ready?” he asked.
She gathered her reins and looked out at the open land ahead of them.
“Ready,” she said.
He took her east first, along the fence line where the trail was wide and easy, letting the horses find their pace. Vulcan settled into a comfortable lope, and Ethan heard Jewel fall into step behind him.
After a while he slowed to a walk and she came up alongside him.
The land opened up ahead of them, rolling pastures giving way to a long meadow that ran all the way to the tree line. A creek cut through the middle of it, catching the morning light.
He watched her take it in.
“Ethan.” Her voice was quiet. “This is stunning.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He’d ridden this land a thousand times and it still did something to him. He was glad it did the same to her.
They rode in silence for a while, side by side, the only sounds the horses’ hooves in the grass and the creek moving somewhere ahead of them.
“That’s the boundary with Seth’s property,” he said, nodding toward the tree line to the south. “His land runs down to the road.”
“And Cole’s is north?”
“Yes.” He turned Vulcan toward the creek. “Come on. I’ll show you the best part.”
The creek was wider than it looked from a distance, clear and cold, running fast over smooth rocks. A stand of cottonwoods grew along the bank, their leaves catching the breeze, and the grass was thick and green on either side.
He pulled Vulcan up at the bank, and she stopped Jewel beside him.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
“I used to come here when I was a boy,” he said finally. “When my brothers got to be too much.”
She looked at him. “Did that happen often?”
“More than I’d like to admit.” He watched the water move. “Cole and Seth are good men. But they picked on me a lot. Just like all big brothers do.”
She smiled. “I wouldn’t know what that’s like. Only child.”
He looked at her. In the morning light, out here away from the ranch and the work and everything that complicated things, she looked completely at ease. Like she belonged here.
He looked back at the creek before she caught him staring.
“It’s peaceful,” she said softly.
“It is.” He shifted in the saddle. “I come here when I need to think.”
“What do you think about?”
He was quiet for a moment. “Everything. Nothing.” He glanced at her. “Lately, more than usual.”
She held his gaze and he knew she understood what he meant.
She looked back at the creek. “I can see why you’d come here for that.”
They sat there a while longer, the horses drinking from the creek, neither of them in any hurry to leave.
“Do you want to get down, stretch your legs a little?”
“Yes.” Naomi dismounted and he did the same. They gathered the reins and walked along the creek.
“You said you had a half-sister you’d never met. Why is that?”
Naomi shook her head. “I don’t speak to my mother at all, so I’d have no reason to speak to my half-sister. My mother didn’t want me but probably doted on the baby she did. I never understood it. How can you just abandon one child, then go off and have another one you keep?”
He didn’t answer right away. He let her words settle.
“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I don’t think there’s a good answer to that.”
“There isn’t.” Her voice was matter of fact, but he could hear the old wound underneath it.
“My grandmother never spoke badly about her. She’d just say that some people aren’t built for certain things.
” Naomi watched the water. “I used to think that meant there was something wrong with me. That I was the reason she left.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“I do now.” She glanced at him. “It took a while.”
He said nothing. He just walked beside her and let her have the space to say what she needed to say or not say it.
“My grandmother was everything,” she said quietly. “She more than made up for it.” She sighed. “I still miss her every single day.”
“How long has she been gone?”
“Two years.” She reached out and let her hand trail through the tall grass at the creek’s edge. “She was the only family I had and when she died I just felt—” She stopped. “Untethered, I guess.”
He looked at her. “Is that why you took the job? Fresh start?”
She considered that. “Partly.” She looked up at him. “Partly because of the horses. Partly because of the apartment.” A small smile. “And now partly because of the burgers.”
He laughed, and she laughed too, and just like that the weight of it lifted a little.