Chapter 14
fourteen
Tarr padded around the kitchen in the mansion, putting together a quick and simple breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes and bacon.
After all, his momma always made him this breakfast on his birthday. He snapped a picture to send to his parents before pouring maple syrup over his pancakes.
He’d chatted with her already that morning, and now he sent the picture of pancakes and bacon, along with the words, Love you guys. I hope you have an amazing day today.
You too, Daddy said. And happy birthday.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! his momma wrote, and then she sent several emojis, ranging from cakes to poppers to birthday gifts.
Tarr grinned and chuckled, then settled at the bar to eat.
He’d been staying at the mansion for a couple of days while Tucker and Bobbie Jo were in Las Vegas with Rosie.
Since she’d won Rookie of the Year, as well as the national championship in barrel racing, Tarr knew they would’ve been out late celebrating last night.
He did expect both Bobbie Jo and Tuck to text him and say happy birthday, but no one else would. He hadn’t told Briar that today was his birthday, and the only other person who knew was Wayne.
Tarr tapped on his social media as he took a bite of his bacon and immediately remembered that the entire world knew it was his birthday.
He’d ridden in the NPR finals several times in his life, and many announcers had said “Let’s put our hands together for Tarr Olson, who’s celebrating his birthday today!
” right before his eight-second ride. He’d also put the date on many of his social media profiles, and everyone from childhood acquaintances to perfect strangers had already started sending good wishes.
He quickly closed out of those apps, completely dissatisfied with getting messages from people he didn’t know.
With Tuck gone, he’d been doing the feeding himself while Briar took care of the goat herd.
That put them a little bit behind, but he went through her veterinary rotation with her, and then he started training just after lunch, about the time she disappeared into her office.
Thankfully, there had been no more snow, and Tarr could admit that he liked living in the mansion.
He’d been looking online for hot plates he could put on a countertop, so he could make his pancakes and bacon, scrambled eggs, or a grilled cheese sandwich with the mini-fridge and the microwave upstairs. It really would be an excellent place to stay until he could get his cabin finished.
He’d scheduled a call with Les Davenport at Portside Construction next week, because Tarr had originally thought he would build the cabin himself, but now knew that the task was beyond his abilities and the amount of time he had to dedicate to it.
If he hired someone, he could probably move in by spring, and if he did it himself, it might be another year.
He’d just finished breakfast when the doorbell rang, someone knocked, and then the front door opened, all in the span of a single second.
Tarr sat far enough back in the house that he couldn’t see the front door, but the alarm system said “Front door open,” so he knew someone had come in.
“It’s just me,” Briar called. “Wiggins, get out of the way.”
Tarr stayed on his barstool and watched the mouth of the hallway that led toward the front of the house, where Tuck had a formal office and a formal living room off the ten-foot-wide foyer the front door opened into.
Briar’s steps sounded short and stilted, and the moment she appeared, Tarr understood why: she carried at least two plastic grocery sacks on each arm and balanced an enormous birthday cake in her hands.
“What in the world?” Tarr jumped to his feet and went to relieve her of the dessert. “What’s this for?”
“What’s this for?” she repeated, her voice filled with daggers.
Tarr slid the cake onto the counter at the same time Briar lifted the bags and let them crash down. “It’s your birthday, Mister Olson, and you did—not—tell—me.”
She freed her hands and arms from the plastic loops and planted one hand on her hip, her glare fixed perfectly on him.
“It’s not a big deal,” he said.
“It’s not a big deal?” Briar shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. Birthdays are a big deal.”
“Oh, yeah? When’s yours, then?”
“March,” she said, lifting her chin in a haughty movement. “Now, it smells suspiciously like chocolate in here, which means you’ve already eaten—and that’s fine. I’m going to feed the goats, and then I’m going to come back here and make your birthday lunch.”
She dove into the plastic bags and started pulling things out of them, including potatoes, shredded cheese, sour cream, vegetable oil, and brown gravy packets.
“What have we got going on here?” Tarr asked. “What are you making for lunch?”
“Poutine,” she said.
“Honey, it’s my birthday.” He grinned at her, but she maintained her forceful glare.
“Yes, and we missed our poutine date last week, because someone needed to go horseback riding with the big celebrities.”
“Hey, I invited you along.”
“Yeah,” she said. And she’d had fun going with Cole and Rosie and Rachel in a more relaxed manner.
“Their dads are rodeo-famous.”
“Yes, I heard.” Briar stepped around the island and started to put things in Tuck’s fridge. “So we’re going to have lunch, and then we’re going to spend the day watching movies in the theater room downstairs.”
“I can’t do that,” he said. “I’ve got two horses I’m working with.”
“Ashton’s going to do it.”
Tarr scoffed, the noise angry and loud and not really reflective of how he felt.
“It’s your birthday, Tarr,” Briar said as she turned back from the fridge. “And it’s a weekend. You don’t have to work yourself to death.” She took one menacing step toward him and poked her forefinger into his sternum. “And you should have told me it was your birthday.”
“I didn’t want it to be a big deal.”
“How would you feel if it was my birthday and I hadn’t told you?”
“Well, that tracks for you,” he said.
“Which makes this even weirder.” She glared at him and went back to un-bagging groceries.
“I got the cheddar cheese and caramel popcorn you like for the movie—which I’m going to let you pick, by the way, because it is your birthday—and Bobbie Jo said the theater room is full of blankets, and we can turn on the space heater down there if we don’t want to uncover the vents. ”
“You’ve talked to them about it?”
“How do you think I found out it was your birthday?” she asked. “I had to find out from Bobbie Jo, for crying out loud.”
“Yeah, kind of like me finding out about your stunt riding from Rosie Young.”
Briar whipped back to him, her vulnerability combining with her ire and making her absolutely stunning in the morning light coming through the back windows. “I apologized for that.”
Tarr grinned at her and drew her into his arms. She tried to resist him, but in the end, she eased into his chest and wrapped her arms around his back, making him feel strong and steady.
“Well, I’m sorry then, sweetheart,” he murmured. “December birthdays are kind of hard, you know? It’s like everything’s overshadowed with Christmas.”
“All the more reason you should have told me,” she said. “Then I wouldn’t have had to make an emergency run to the grocery store, panic-buy everything I saw, and hurry here so I could catch you before we had to go do our chores.”
She stepped back and gazed up at him. Tarr’s eyes dropped to her mouth as he found himself thinking about kissing her more and more often.
“I’m afraid my presents are pretty lame, and I’m going to save one of them until later today, but you can have the first one right now.”
“Oh, yeah?” He raised his eyebrows. “And what would that be, sweetheart?”
“Well, one, I’m making you lunch.”
“Dang,” he said with a grin. “I thought you were going to say I could kiss you.”
Briar sucked in a breath and stepped back. Tarr dropped his hands from her body, realizing that while they had been getting to know each other over the past couple of weeks and becoming more and more friendly, she definitely wasn’t ready for kissing.
“It’s fine,” Tarr said, waving his hand. “What’s present number two?”
She reached for the plastic bag still sitting on the counter and wrapped the ties all the way around something rectangular inside.
“This is for later, and I still have to wrap it,” she said.
“But number two is that I’m going to leave Wiggins with you all day, and he can sleep here with you tonight. ”
Tarr’s smile widened even further, and he laughed as he grabbed Briar and spun her around in the kitchen. “That’s the best birthday present ever, honey. Thank you.”
It felt natural to him to lean down and kiss her, so he did, but he planted his lips right on her cheek instead of her mouth.
“Really, thank you, Briar,” he whispered in her ear. Then he straightened again and beamed at her, turning toward Wiggins, who had pivoted from the back door where he’d been watching for possible intruders—or probably just birds.
“Hey, buddy, did you hear your momma’s gonna let you stay with me tonight?”
Wiggins smiled and his tongue dropped out of his mouth as he panted. Tarr crouched and scrubbed him along the ears, the sides of his face, and under his neck.
“I mean, I don’t need you to keep me warm anymore, but I sure do love it when you’re in the bed with me.”
“Oh, brother,” Briar muttered from behind him, but Tarr didn’t much care. He did love Wiggins—the dog was a good friend—and he straightened and turned just as Briar closed the cupboard where Tuck and Bobbie Jo kept the sugar bowl for their coffee and their salt and pepper shakers.
“Don’t you be looking in there,” she said. “We need to go do our chores.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Tarr walked back over to Briar and took her hand in his. “Thank you, Briar. Really.”