Chapter 10
HARDISON
The morning sun sat low over the ridge, turning the fields gold and catching in the dust that rose off the dry earth as I walked the fence line.
A clipboard rested against my forearm, pencil tucked behind my ear.
I’d spent five days settling in. Now it was time to really see what I was working with—learning where the tools were kept, how the barn doors stuck if you didn’t lift them just right, and which lights in the tack room flickered when they hummed on.
The cattle milled lazily in the pasture beyond, hides glossy and their eyes clear. Somebody had cared for them properly before they changed hands. I made notes about the salt block needing to be replaced, the water trough half full. Nothing pressing.
The goats were next, bleating at my presence as though they expected me to come bearing treats. “Don’t start with me,” I muttered before winking in their direction, scribbling check feed order across the sheet. Their coats shone, hooves looked trimmed. Easy enough.
But it was the horses that slowed me down. I leaned against the gate, eyes sweeping over the small herd. Good weight on them. Shiny coats. Someone had brushed them regularly. I jotted down worming schedule? and then my gaze snagged on the last one in line.
Tall, dark bay, nearly black in the shade of the barn. His coat gleamed like oiled leather, muscles shifting under his skin with every step. He didn’t crowd the others, didn’t come trotting over for attention, either. Just stood watching me like he was measuring me up.
“Now who the hell are you?” I posed.
I glanced over at the name board posted, not seeing one next to his description. I wondered why, but decided that now was as good a time as any to see what he was about.
I unlatched the gate, slow and steadily, keeping my movements calm as I stepped into the pen.
Two other horses nosed toward me, hopeful for grain, but I passed them by.
My boots crunched in the straw as I made my way to the bay.
The horse flicked an ear, nostrils flaring, but he didn’t back away. A challenge.
I stretched out a hand, letting him snuffle my knuckles. Warm breath ghosted over my skin. “You've got some fire in you, don’t you?”
The clipboard was forgotten on a fence post. I fetched a halter and lead, slipped it over his head with little fuss. His muscles bunched as he shifted his weight, but he didn’t fight. I led him out of the pen, testing his manners at the gate. Good. Patient. Respectful.
In the corral, I cinched a saddle onto his broad back, half expecting a buck or a shy. He rolled his eyes at me, but stood steady. I chuckled under my breath. “All right, big guy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I swung up into the saddle, wincing a little when I lifted my injured leg over.
He shifted under me, powerful but controlled, moving like a coiled spring waiting to be let loose.
We walked, trotted, then pushed into a lope.
He stretched out as if he’d been waiting for someone to give him permission, hooves pounding into the packed earth, mane whipping against my hands.
The world narrowed to the rhythm of the horse beneath me, the clean air in my lungs, and the wide-open blue sky overhead.
When I finally slowed him, bringing him down to a walk, my chest was heaving with more than just exertion.
I patted his slick neck, grinning despite myself. “You ride like hell’s at your heels,” I mumbled. “But you’re steady. Strong.”
He flicked an ear back at me.
“Guess that makes you Diesel,” I decided, the name settling into my bones like it had always belonged.
I swung down, loosened the girth, and led Diesel back toward the barn. With his lead rope slack in my hand, the smell of sweat and leather rolling off him. He’d given me a hell of a first ride, and I couldn’t help but feel lighter for it.
Boot steps crunched on the gravel ahead, and I looked up to see Elijah making his way down the slope from the house.
He had a steady, unhurried stride of a man who’d walked this land long enough for it to become part of him.
His hat was shoved back on his head, and I could see the knowing grin already tugging at his mouth.
“Well,” he drawled, eyeing Diesel like he’d known all along I’d be hooked. “Looks like you found yourself a friend.”
“Yeah,” I said, patting the bay’s neck. “Strong, smart. Got some spirit in him, but he listens.”
Elijah tipped his chin at the rest of the pastures. “What do you think of the stock? Be honest. I bought ‘em quick when that old farmer had to sell out, didn’t have the time to inventory. Figured you’d tell me if I made a mess of things.”
I snorted. “You didn’t do half bad. Cattle are in good shape. Goats too, though I’ll need to check hooves in a few weeks. Horses are solid—especially this one here. Could use a salt block for the cows, and I’ll want to go over the worming schedule to make sure nothing slips.”
Elijah nodded, expression softening with relief. “That’s good to hear. I kept wondering if I’d just bought myself a field full of headaches.”
“You did,” I shot back, grinning. “But they’re the headaches worth having.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Always were better at this kind of thing than the rest of us. I’ll leave the planning to you. Foreman’s gone another couple days, and until then, this place is yours to steer.”
I looked around at the barns, the pastures stretching out under the morning sun. My chest tightened—not in a bad way, but in that heavy, weight-settling way that reminded me of responsibility. “All right,” I said finally. “I’ll draw up a plan. Keep things running until he gets back.”
Elijah’s gaze slid from the horse back to me, steady but thoughtful. “You know, Hardison… seeing you out here, it feels right. Maybe this is where you were meant to land.”
I didn’t answer right away. Just rubbed Diesel’s neck, feeling the horse’s steady breath under my hand. Maybe I thought. Maybe this was a place I could breathe again.
Elijah leaned a shoulder against the barn door, watching me fuss with Diesel’s halter. “Speaking of things feeling right,” he said, voice low but pointed, “how are things going with Emberlynn?”
I shot him a look. “Is it that obvious?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Do cows shit bricks?”
I let out a dry laugh.
Before he could reply, the sound of boots crunching over the dirt pulled both our attention. I turned to see Emberlynn walking toward us, her hair catching the sun, a hesitant smile tugging at her mouth.
“There you are,” she said, slightly breathless, like she’d hurried. “I figured I’d find you with the animals.”
For a moment, the air shifted. Her eyes went straight to Diesel, then flicked back to me, curiosity written all over her face. She looked a little out of place in her city jacket, but not in a bad way. More like someone trying to step into a world she didn’t know yet—but wanted to.
Elijah’s grin widened as he tipped his hat to her. “Well now. I guess we talked you up.”
Her cheeks flushed pink, but she smiled. “How so? Was Hardison out here telling you how much he likes me?”
“Guilty,” he said, amusement clear in his voice. Then he glanced at me, eyes glinting with mischief. “Guess I’ll leave you two to it. This place runs better when I stay out of the way, anyway.”
And with that, he ambled off, leaving me standing there with a horse at my side and a woman who was supposed to be my perfect match watching me with sure eyes and waiting lips. I leaned over and kissed her sweetness, and she returned it while wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I missed you.” Emberlynn whispered against my lips. “When I heard you putting on your boots this morning, I knew exactly where you’d end up.”
Her words tugged something loose in my chest. I brushed a bit of hay from her cheek, thumb lingering a second too long. “A few days in and you’re already reading me that well, huh?”
She smiled, softly but certain. “Some men are puzzles. You’re more like a map—you leave tracks.”
That earned a low chuckle from me. “Tracks, huh? Most people just call it predictable.”
“I don’t,” she said, shaking her head. Her eyes darted past me to Diesel, who was standing calm and steady, ears flicking at the sound of our voices. “Is he yours?”
“Just met him today,” I admitted. “Didn’t even have a name until about an hour ago. Diesel.”
“Diesel,” she repeated, tasting the word. “Strong name. Fits him.”
I led the horse into his stall, giving him a last pat on the neck before sliding the door shut. Emberlynn watched me work, arms crossed loosely, her expression somewhere between admiration and curiosity.
“You look… different out here,” she said.
“Different how?” I asked, stripping the saddle and draping it over the rail.
“Lighter. This is where you’re supposed to be.” Her tone carried no judgment, just an observation that hit deeper than she probably knew.
I met her gaze, felt the weight of it settle in my chest. “That’s the second time I’ve heard that today.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The barn was filled only with the shifting sounds of animals, the steady creak of wood, the smell of hay and sweat. Then she stepped closer, close enough that her shoulder brushed my arm.
“Come on,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Show me around. If I’m supposed to be here two weeks, I should probably learn the difference between a tack room and a feed room.”
I huffed a laugh, the tension easing out of me. “Fair enough. But don’t say I didn’t warn you—once I start teaching, I don’t stop.”
She grinned, eyes sparkling with a challenge. “Good. I like a man who takes control.”
Her words lit something low in me, sharp and steady. Control. Yeah. That I could do.