Chapter 17 Noah
NOAH
I’d been on more dinner dates than I cared to count. From city to city and table to table, each one following the same tired choreography of white linen, polite laughter, and candlelight trying to disguise the fact that we were both checking our watches.
But tonight, I was home. And Maya? Maya was nothing like the women I’d known before.
She was fire and wild air. Sharp where others were smooth, and untamed in all the ways that made me want to find out more. And yeah, she was still a mystery, but for once, I didn’t need all the answers upfront. I was ready to dive first, read the fine print later.
If I were going to take her out, it couldn’t be some templated date. It had to be something that felt like her, unexpected and a little wild. Maybe even just romantic enough to make her pause and wonder if she could let someone in. If she could let me in.
Elia gave my outfit a once-over—half media guy, half ranch hand. “Not bad. You clean up halfway decent.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly.
“Just don’t trample the lawn too much. We’ve got someone coming by tomorrow to scope it out for a wedding.”
One solid thump came from my heart. I didn’t ask who, but if it was Napoleon, I wanted eyes on him.
“Huh,” I said. “Then I’ll make sure to stay uphill.”
“Just kidding, brother.” Elia waved me off with a grin, already moving on. “Go have yourself a time.”
I stepped out to wait on the porch. A few minutes later, Maya pulled up in jeans and plaid, the same outfit she’d worn the first time I saw her. I’d mistaken her for the bride back then, what with her knockout hair and don’t-mess-with-me eyes.
Seeing her in it again, her hair tied in a ponytail this time, didn’t dull the effect. If anything, it made me want to tell her she belonged here, right alongside the mountains and wild rivers.
“For you,” I said, handing her a cowboy hat I’d picked up from the saddle shop earlier.
She took it, turning it over in her hands with a small smile. “To complete the look?”
“That. And to keep the sun and wind off your face.”
Golden hour around here could be unforgiving, but honestly, I just wanted an excuse to see her in something that fit her even better than I imagined.
She surprised me by leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. “That’s sweet, cowboy.”
That one nearly had me rethinking this whole ride and gave me the dinner could wait kind of thought.
I guided her toward the stable, where Wyatt, my usual ride, was saddled and waiting.
She frowned, glancing around. “Only one horse? Trying to get cozy with me?”
“The fact that you didn’t look relieved to be riding with me tells me you weren’t bluffing when you said you knew how to ride.”
She shot me a glare, half-mocking, half-offended.
I smirked. “But damn, why didn’t I think of that?”
That got me a smile.
I led the other horse out.
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “How cute!”
Toby, the Shetland pony, peered up at her, fluffy and entirely too pleased with the attention.
“He’s a rescue,” I explained. “Elia took him in a couple of months ago, but I swear he’s always belonged here.”
She crouched, scratching behind his ears, and Toby lapped it up.
“So, he’s my ride?” she asked, deadpan.
“A pony for my princess,” I said, teasing.
Her glare snapped to me. Not at Toby, of course—he was innocent in all this—but at the ‘P’ word.
“Toby is adorable,” she said. “But I can handle a full-sized horse.”
I threw my hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I wouldn’t do you that dirty on our first date.”
I led Caramel, one of The Lazy Moose’s best mares, out, and Maya lit up.
“She’s always up for anything you ask of her,” I said, giving the mare a pat. “Though I’m pretty sure she’d put her hoof down if you tried painting her cherry red.”
Maya laughed, running a gentle hand along Caramel’s snout. “I’d never let that happen.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t worry, girl. I’ve got your back.”
Within minutes, they bonded like old friends.
And just like that, we were off.
We rode side by side, the valley stretching wide around us, sage grass swaying in the breeze as if it was keeping a rhythm only the land remembered.
Maya moved with the horse, slipping just ahead, her figure momentarily etched against the orange sky before falling back into step beside me.
I watched her, taking it all in—the way her hair slipped from its tie, the way she gave an amused sound when Caramel tossed her head, and the way she looked like she belonged here, whether she’d admit it or not.
“You sure you weren’t raised on a ranch?” I teased, nudging my horse closer. “You handle that mare like you’ve been doing this since you could walk.”
Maya smirked. “Nope. I just used to ride for fun when I lived at the mansion.”
I snorted. “Ah, yes. The classic rich girl turns cowgirl arc. Next thing I know, you’ll be trading in your boots for rhinestones.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. If I wanted rhinestones, I’d have kept the necklace.”
“Fair point.”
Then she nudged Caramel ahead, a little too fast.
“Easy there, rodeo queen,” I called. “We’re on a date, not auditioning for Yellowstone.”
She tossed a look over her shoulder. For a second, I thought she’d fire back with some smart remark. Instead, she guided Caramel into a few smooth maneuvers.
I whistled. I didn’t even know the mare could do that.
“Seriously, where did you pick up skills like that?” I asked, still grinning.
She arched a brow. “Nowhere else but Bridger Canyon.”
“Alright. I’ll take your word for it.”
“Good choice,” she quipped. Then, after a pause, her voice dipped. “My dad taught me how to ride.”
I studied her face and the way her expression shifted like she was sifting through memories.
I asked, “Do you miss that life?”
“Oh, Noah.” A hollow chuckle escaped her lips. “You have no idea how messed up my life is.”
It shouldn’t have brought me any relief, but it did.
Not because I was glad she’d been through it, but because it meant she might understand my pain.
I could’ve told her about Tessa, about the hole her loss left in me.
About how tragedy had plagued the Lucas family all these years.
But this wasn’t the time to trade scars.
We were just starting to find our way to each other.
“Hey, every life is messed up in some way,” I said, keeping it light.
“Not like mine.” She adjusted her hat, tilting it back just enough to let me see her fully, nothing hidden. “Are you sure you want to be around me? I mean…an ex-con?”
I didn’t hesitate. “But you were wrongfully charged.”
“I did steal that necklace, Noah. But I never laid a hand on my cousin. And that charge about assaulting a police officer?” Her voice dipped. “I was just trying to get to my dad.”
The weight of those words settled between us, heavy and undeniable. I nudged my horse closer, within reach. And I wanted to reach her, more than I probably should.
“If I’d wanted to run, I would’ve when you told me you just got out of prison,” I said. “I like being around you. You keep me honest.”
Something flickered in her expression—surprise, maybe a trace of relief. Then she smiled, a shy curve of her lips.
She reached out.
I caught her hand without thinking, gripping it firmly.
But then our dinner spot came into view, bathed in the last stretch of light. It was my cue to shift the night into something easier on the heart. Something just for us.
“Here we are,” I said.