Chapter 6
WAVERLY
I showed up at the cabin three days later without a text, without a phone call, without anything but a deep sense of knowing that Tanner would be there.
His truck sat parked in the same spot as before. The door to the cabin stood half-open letting afternoon light spill through the doorway.
I climbed the porch steps and found him standing at the window, his hands braced on the sill, his head bowed like he'd been waiting.
"Hey, Waverly." He didn’t ask what I was doing there or seem surprised that I’d shown up. He just said my name in that rough, low way that sent heat racing to my core, and the air between us felt charged enough to spark.
I closed the door behind me, the latch clicking into place. "Are you going to tell me this is a mistake again?"
He turned, his gaze dragging over me and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "Would it matter?"
"No."
He crossed the room in a few long steps and kissed me, his hands already working my belt loose, my jeans sliding down my hips.
There wasn't time for talking. Wasn't room for anything but the press of his mouth, the scrape of his stubble against my jaw, and the way he lifted me onto the rough-hewn table and stepped between my thighs.
We didn't make it to the bed.
Looking at horses became a convenient excuse to see each other.
I’d decided to pass on the mare but tested a dun mare the following week.
Her gait was smooth, but her temperament was too flighty for the kind of control I needed.
Tanner watched from the rail, his arms folded, his hat pulled low, and when I dismounted, he didn't say much beyond "She won't settle under pressure. "
I agreed and declined the mare. Then I drove back toward town with Tanner following in his truck. Both of us peeled off onto the ranch road that led to the cabin without thinking about it.
Inside, he backed me against the wall before I had a chance to catch my breath, his hands framing my face, his mouth claiming mine with the kind of focus he usually reserved for training colts.
I tugged his shirt free and trailed my fingers over the hard planes of his stomach and the ridge of muscle along his ribs.
"Bed this time," I murmured against his lips.
"Yes, ma'am."
He carried me there, then stripped me slowly, his hands reverent in a way that made my chest tighten. When he settled between my thighs, his mouth tracing patterns I'd started memorizing, I let my head fall back and stopped pretending this was just physical.
It wasn't. It may have started out that way, but I was falling for him. I knew better, but I couldn’t help myself. The connection we had went beyond the bed… or the table or the wall or wherever he’d taken me so far. But neither of us would admit it.
I looked at a black gelding on Saturday morning. He was tall and lean with clean lines and a steadiness I hadn’t seen in any of the other horses we’d considered. The seller, an older woman who owned a small parcel of land out near Silver Springs, led him into the arena and handed me the reins.
"He's got championship bloodlines," she said. "Competed through last season but the owner fell on some hard times and moved out of state."
I mounted, settled into the saddle, and felt the gelding respond immediately. Tanner watched from the other side of the fence, his expression unreadable, but when I glanced his way, he gave a small nod.
I rode the gelding through barrels, testing his turns, his speed, and his recovery. He didn't rush or overthink things. He just moved with the kind of confidence that came from training and experience, not nerves.
When I dismounted, Tanner opened the gate and stepped inside.
"What do you think?" I asked.
He walked around the gelding, ran a hand down each leg, checked his teeth, his stance, and the set of his shoulders. "That was a clean ride. You’d be getting a solid foundation with this one."
"But?"
"No but." He straightened, his gaze meeting mine. "He's what you've been looking for."
Hearing Tanner confirm what I’d felt in my gut made the decision an easy one. I turned back to the woman with a smile. "I'll take him."
She nodded. “Do you want to take him today or come back and get him later?”
“I may as well take him today.” I’d had a good feeling, so I’d brought the trailer along with me.
“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll draw up the paperwork.” She headed toward the house, leaving Tanner and me alone.
“Where are you going to board him?” Tanner asked.
I was surprised it had taken him this long to ask, but I hadn’t wanted to bring it up until it was necessary. “Slade said there’s room at the Iron Spur.”
His jaw clenched, and he nodded. “I guess that makes sense. I’ll follow you there to make sure you don’t have any trouble with the trailer but I’m not going to set food on Kincaid land.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to,” I mumbled. He was stubborn and proud, just like my cousin. If the two of them could ever set aside the damn feud, they’d probably realize they had a lot in common. But the odds of that happening were about as likely as me winning the lottery, maybe even less.
We got the paperwork done and Tanner followed me back to the Iron Spur.
Once I’d pulled into the long drive, he slowed down long enough to wave.
I got the gelding settled in the stall Slade had prepared.
Thankfully, he wasn’t around so I didn’t have to answer any questions.
Once I was sure the gelding was comfortable, I headed to the cabin.
Even though neither of us had said anything about it, I knew Tanner would already be there.
The cabin had stopped being a mistake and had become a choice and something neither of us questioned anymore. The drive felt familiar now, the turns easy, the silence comfortable in a way I hadn't expected.
He was waiting for me on the small porch. I climbed the steps, and he tugged me through the doorway. Inside, he kissed me slowly, his hands moving over me like we had all the time in the world. I unbuttoned his shirt, pushed it off his shoulders, and traced the line of his collarbone with my mouth.
"You bought the gelding," he said, his voice rough.
"I did."
"That means you got what you came for."
I looked up at him, my palms still on his chest. "Does it?"
His jaw tightened, and a question flickered in his eyes. Probably the same question I'd been asking myself a thousand times a day but couldn’t answer.
"Waverly—"
I kissed him before he could finish, before either of us could put a name to what was growing between us. His hands slid into my hair, his mouth opening under mine, and we fell into the rhythm we'd built…urgent and consuming with no room left for doubt.
He laid me down on the bed, his weight settling over me, his hands gripping my hips as he moved inside me. I wrapped my legs around him, my nails digging into his back, and let myself fall.
After, we tangled together in the sheets, his arm draped over my waist, his breath warm against my shoulder.
"Are you going to start training this week?" he asked.
"I’m planning on it."
"You'll need to build his stamina. Work him on transitions before you push speed."
I turned my head to look at him. "Are you offering advice or volunteering?"
His thumb traced slow circles on my hip. "I’m just saying."
"Tanner."
He met my gaze. "I don't work with Kincaids.”
"You keep saying that."
"Doesn't make it less true."
I rolled onto my side, facing him fully. "Then what are we doing?"
He didn't answer. Just pulled me closer, his hand sliding up my back, his mouth finding mine again.
And I let it be enough… for now.
Hours later, the chill of the evening wrapped around us as we stood outside the cabin under a sky heavy with stars. Tanner's hand lingered on my elbow, his warmth seeping through the fabric of my sleeve.
"Are you ready to head back?" His voice sounded like gravel that had been smoothed over time.
I nodded, drawing in a breath of cool mountain air. It cleared my head, but as we turned toward my truck, I realized I didn’t have my keys.
"Damn," I muttered. "I left my bag inside."
Tanner's lips twitched into a crooked smile. "Want me to help you find it?"
I shook my head, knowing that if he went back inside with me, it would be another hour or two before we left. I’d been putting off meeting up with my cousin and needed to stop by to see him in person and check on the gelding again before it got too late. "No, I've got it. You go on ahead."
“See you soon, Kincaid.” He leaned down and kissed me goodbye. It was the kind of kiss that made me want to drag him back inside, but I resisted.
Once he’d driven away, I stepped back into the cabin and flicked on the small lamp next to the old couch. Soft light spread across the worn rug and the rough-hewn table where my bag should have been.
It wasn't there. I scanned the room, catching sight of it half-hidden next to a chair by the window. As I leaned over to pick it up, my gaze snagged on something I’d never noticed before. There was a drawer under the narrow window ledge. The wood looked swollen, and it sat slightly ajar.
Curiosity got the better of me. I set my bag on the table and tugged the drawer open. Inside, I found an old wooden box. The wood had worn over time, and someone had secured the lid with a small lock.
I pulled it out to take a better look. Did Tanner even know this was here? The box was heavy and when I gently shook it, something rustled inside. I pulled a pin from my hair that I’d used to tame my bangs. The lock opened easily, and I slid the lid aside.
For a split second, my chest tightened with a tiny bit of remorse.
Maybe it was best to leave the past in the past. But then I saw the bundle of letters inside, tied with a thin pink ribbon.
The paper had yellowed over the years, and my heart skipped ahead a few beats while I wondered what secrets I might have uncovered.
I untied the string and picked up the envelope on top. A man’s name was written on the front in the type of elegant handwriting that had disappeared over the years. The pages slid from the envelope and I unfolded the letter, being careful with the fragile paper.
Dearest—
The word tugged at something inside me, and I immediately wondered about the sender and recipient. I skimmed the letter, my eyes tracking the inked lines, piecing together snippets of a conversation that had once mattered.
I see you in the wind over the fields, hear your laughter in the creek's song. The world feels dimmer without you by my side.
The name at the bottom made my chest tighten.
Yours,
H.M. Kincaid
My next breath stalled in my throat while a thousand unspoken questions crowded into my head. These were letters between a Kincaid and… I glanced at the front of the envelope again and verified the name… Eleanor Hollister.
It was like finding a photograph of a time I couldn't imagine, a connection history had buried under layers of the feud.
Feeling like I’d just trespassed somewhere I didn’t belong, I slid the letter back into the envelope and retied the string around the bundle.
The weight of what I'd uncovered made my fingers shake. The cabin felt different somehow, the air thicker with the presence of those who’d gone before us, treading the same delicate line Tanner and I now seemed to be balancing on.
I replaced the box and drawer just as they were, already knowing I’d be back to read the rest.
With my bag in hand, I stepped back outside. The whispers of the past would wait, holding their breath like Tanner and I did, poised on the edge of something neither of us could quite name.