Chapter 4
WAVERLY
Even though every cell in my body urged me to grab Tanner by the shirt and haul his lips back to mine, I shoved my hands in my pockets instead. If he didn’t want to acknowledge the heat between us, I wasn’t going to either.
"I'm going to pass on the gelding," I said.
Tanner's jaw tightened, but he nodded. Didn't argue. Didn't ask why. "Your call."
"He's a good horse," I added. "Someone will be happy with him. But he's not what I need."
"What do you need?"
"Something further along. Something I can trust in a run without second-guessing every transition." I glanced up at him and kept my voice level. "Close isn't enough."
His eyes held mine for a beat longer than necessary, and I knew he heard what I wasn't saying. Close wasn't enough in competition. And it sure as hell wasn't enough anywhere else.
"I've got another lead in town," I said. "The owner said her mare's been running locally with some success. I'm going to take a look at her tomorrow morning."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"If you're still willing to evaluate."
"I said I would."
"Good." I turned toward my truck, doing my best to ignore the heat still coursing through my veins. "I'll text you the address once I confirm."
I didn't wait for him to reply, and I wasn’t about to look back to see if he was watching me. With my head still spinning from that damn kiss, I got in my truck and headed toward town to pick up some supplies.
Nelson's Mercantile sat in the center of Main Street, anchoring the small downtown. The building was brick and wood with wide windows that showcased everything from locally roasted coffee to hand-stitched quilts, and I caught the scent of fresh bread and huckleberries the minute I stepped inside.
I didn’t need much, just a few things to tide me over until I found a horse and could hit the road again. Living in my trailer had its challenges, but it was convenient and cheap and much better than staying at the Iron Spur with my cousins Slade and Sidney.
"Well now." The voice came from behind me, warm and sharp and unmistakably Ruby Nelson.
I turned around. Ruby stood near the end cap, her arms crossed, a cardigan covered in embroidered flowers draped over her shoulders.
"Waverly Kincaid," she said, like she'd been waiting for this exact moment. "I heard you were in town."
"Yes ma'am." I kept my tone polite and neutral. "Just picking up a few things."
"Mm-hmm." She moved closer, studying me with the kind of focus I usually reserved for evaluating a horse. "I also heard you've been spending time with Tanner Hollister."
I would have been shocked if she hadn’t. Nothing traveled faster than gossip in a town the size of Mustang Mountain.
"He's evaluating horses for me," I said. "That's all."
"Is that so?" Ruby's smile widened. "That’s funny. Word around town is that you two were seen at a certain arena earlier today. Together."
"We were just looking at a gelding."
"And how'd that go?"
"It didn't work out."
"That’s a shame." She tilted her head slightly, her eyes never leaving my face. "Though I suppose that means you'll be looking at more horses. With Tanner."
"If he's available."
"Oh, I’m sure he'll be available." Ruby's eyes sparkled. "That boy doesn't take on clients lightly. The fact that he's working with you at all says something."
She was fishing for information, and I refused to take the bait. "I’m not an official client. He’s just giving me his opinion on a few horses."
“And what’s in it for him, sugar?” One of her eyebrows arched.
I didn’t have a good answer to that. I’d pretty much tricked him into helping me to avoid public humiliation.
I wasn’t proud of my tactics but challenging him in a public setting was the only way I thought he’d say yes.
And I needed his help if I wanted to participate in the season.
A barrel racer is only as good as her horse, and I wanted to be the best.
“Maybe he’s doing it out of the goodness of his heart,” I offered.
"Maybe." Ruby's eyes narrowed just a bit like she was considering the unlikely possibility that Tanner Hollister might have a heart.
"People are curious, honey. Hollisters and Kincaids don't work together.
They haven't in decades. So when word gets out that you two are spending time in bars and arenas, folks start wondering what's really going on. "
"Nothing's going on."
"I didn’t say there was." She plucked a jar of honey from the shelf behind me and gave it her full attention. “People around here talk, that’s all. And in a town this size, talk spreads faster than wildfire in July."
I shifted my shopping basket from one hand to the other and willed my pulse to slow down. "I'm here to find a horse and get back on the circuit. That's it."
Ruby's smile softened. "You're a smart girl, Waverly. I can see that. But smart doesn't always protect you from what people assume. Especially when you're carrying a name like yours and spending time with a man like him."
The knot that had been forming in my stomach since I’d walked in the door tightened. "I'm not worried about assumptions."
"Maybe you should be." She set the jar of honey back on the shelf and turned to face me.
"Whether you like it or not, this valley's been keeping an eye on that feud for longer than either of you have been alive.
And the second people think it's cracking, they're going to push.
They want to see how far it bends before it breaks. "
"Then they'll be disappointed," I said. "Because there's nothing to break."
"If you say so." Ruby studied me for a long moment, then nodded and moved past me toward the front counter. Halfway there, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder. “Just remember, small towns have long memories, and they don't forget or forgive when people keep secrets."
She disappeared around the corner before I could respond.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the empty aisle, feeling the weight of her words settle around my shoulders.
People were watching, and obviously, they were talking.
Seemed like everyone was already forming their own opinions of what was happening between me and Tanner.
I finished finding the few things I needed and headed for the register. Ruby rang me up with the same efficient smile she probably gave everyone, handed me my receipt, and told me to have a good day.
I thanked her and left. But as I climbed into my truck and pulled onto Main Street, I couldn't shake the feeling that our conversation had been more warning than small talk.
After the day I’d already had, I decided to treat myself to something hot and homemade at the café just down the street.
There was nothing waiting for me back at the campground, and I wasn’t in a huge hurry to get back to an empty trailer.
So I pushed through the door and headed straight for the counter.
Tanner sat in the corner booth with a cup of coffee in front of him. Steam rose in lazy spirals, and his hat rested on the table next to a folded newspaper. His eyes found mine the moment I walked in, held for half a second, then dropped back to the paper like he hadn't noticed me at all.
I ordered black coffee and a made-from-scratch chicken pot pie, then headed toward a booth near the window. It wasn’t too close to Tanner but not far enough away to make it seem like I was avoiding him either. He wanted professional distance, and that was what I was giving him.
As I settled into the booth, I wrapped my hands around my mug and stared out at Main Street. Trucks rolled past, Noelle swept the sidewalk in front of the salon, and the world moved on like nothing had shifted at all.
But it had. Even though he was halfway across the room, I could feel tension hanging in the air between Tanner and me.
I stabbed my fork into my early dinner and tried to erase him from my mind. It was just a kiss. A kiss that didn’t mean a damn thing.
Footsteps approached. Tanner stopped next to my table, holding his mug in one hand. "You got that address yet for tomorrow?”
I glanced up. His face didn’t give anything away. He looked calm and in control, exactly like he’d been in the arena before everything tilted sideways.
"Not yet," I said. "The owner's supposed to text me tonight."
"Let me know when you do."
"I will."
He didn't move. Just stood there like he had more to say but couldn't quite figure out how to start.
I took a sip of coffee and waited, keeping my expression neutral.
Finally, he exhaled through his nose. "About earlier—"
"Don’t."
His brow furrowed. "We need to talk about it."
"No," I said. "We don't."
"Waverly—"
"It happened." I set my mug down and somehow managed to meet his gaze without flinching. "You called it a mistake. I'm not going to argue with you about it. As far as I’m concerned, it’s in the past."
"It can't happen again."
"You’ve already made that perfectly clear." How many times did he plan on rejecting me? I almost asked him but didn’t want to seem more pathetic than I already felt.
"I mean it."
"I heard you the first two times." I leaned back against the booth and crossed my arms. "You want this to stay professional. Fine. It's professional. But don’t try to act like I'm the one making things complicated."
His eyes darkened, and I caught a flash of something flickering behind the control he kept locked down tight. "I'm not—"
"You kissed me. Not the other way around.” I kept my voice low and quiet to minimize the chance that another customer might overhear. “And now you're standing here trying to set rules like I'm the one who crossed a line."
"I didn't mean—"
"I know what you meant." I kept my voice level steady though my pulse pounded through my ears. "You want distance. You want boundaries. I'm giving them to you. But don't pretend this is something I'm pushing when you're the one who can't decide what you actually want."
His jaw tightened. "I know what I want."
"Do you?" The question hung in the charged air between us.
He didn't answer right away. Just stared at me like he was working through a problem he didn’t know how to solve, and I watched the frustration build in the set of his shoulders, and the tightness around his eyes.
"This can't go anywhere," he said finally. "You know that."
"I'm not asking it to."
"Then what are you asking?"
"Nothing." I picked up my coffee again, took another sip. "You said you'd evaluate horses. I'm holding you to that. Everything else is noise."
"It's not that simple."
"It is if you let it be."
He shook his head, the movement small and frustrated. "People are already talking."
"Let them talk."
"You don't understand what that means here."
"I understand fine." I met his gaze again and held it. "But I'm not going to apologize for existing in the same town as you, and I'm not going to tiptoe around you because people have opinions. If that's a problem, say so now."
"It's not a problem."
"Then stop acting like it is."
His mouth opened, closed again. He looked like he wanted to push back but couldn't come up with the right words.
"I'm trying to keep this from getting messy," he said.
"Then keep it simple." I set the mug down, straightened. "You evaluate horses. I pay you for your time. We stay professional. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Good." I picked up my fork. "Then we're on the same page."
He didn't move out of my way. Just stood there, close enough that I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands stayed locked at his sides like he didn't trust what they'd do if he let them loose.
"Waverly."
I paused, waited.
"This isn't—" He stopped, jaw working. "I'm not trying to make this harder than it needs to be."
"I know." I pierced another bite with my fork and looked up at him. "But you're the one who keeps bringing it up. I'm fine leaving it alone."
His eyes searched mine, and for a moment I thought he might say something else. Maybe something real, like admitting he felt the same pull between us that I did. But he didn't. He just looked at me without saying another word, then finally set his empty mug down on my table.
“Let me know when you have that address for tomorrow.”
“I will.”
He nodded, then turned to go. I forgot all about the chicken pot pie and watched him push through the door and step out into the mountain air.
He wanted control. Wanted to hide behind all the careful lines he'd spent his life drawing between himself and anything that might crack the foundation he'd built. But control only worked when both people agreed to the rules, and I hadn't agreed to anything except what I was willing to give.
When I’d finished eating, I paid the check, left a generous tip for the gal who’d kept the refills coming, and climbed into my truck. I drove down Main and left the town and the rumors behind.
The valley stretched out ahead of me, wide and open, and I drove without thinking about where I was going. Tanner thought he could manage what had started between us, but whatever neat little box he wanted to shove this into, it was already too late.
The kiss had happened. The tension had built. And no amount of careful control was going to put it back where it came from.
I wasn't going to push him, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to chase him. But I wasn't going to back down either. If that made him uncomfortable… well, that was his problem to solve.