Chapter 43
Archer
I pick up Juliet and bring her back to the stables, arriving to find two horses already saddled and ready to ride.
Sadie backs away from them with a wiggle of her fingers. “You two enjoy yourselves.”
Juliet strokes Freckle’s white patch on his forelock as she thanks Sadie, but I excuse myself and follow after my fairy godmother.
“Call me if an emergency comes up, okay?” I say, glancing over my shoulder as Juliet runs her hand down the horse’s neck.
She looks stunning in her light blue sweater and her hair in a thick braid, trailing down her shoulder—just like the day I met her. This time, she’s got thick-toed boots, but she’s wearing those embroidered jeans again, and I just might lose my cool.
“As if I’m going to interrupt your date,” Sadie says with a roll of her eyes. “Just go already and have fun.”
“But not too much fun!” shouts James from the background where he’s helping Dom set up the stage for the performance tonight.
I deserve that teasing. I did the same to Sadie and James a few weeks back.
While I feel slightly guilty about leaving everyone to their work, there’s nothing else I can do here but micromanage, so I’m sure they’ll be happy with me gone for an hour.
I rejoin Juliet and the horses, help her onto Freckle without error, then mount Maverick before we head out on the trail.
This time, instead of going through the trees and Aunt May’s farm, I lead her across my own land, walking across the fields until the views of the mountains and orange and red leaves stretch out in every direction.
But the view I’m taken with is Juliet. I forgot to get her the cowboy hat this time, and I’m only slightly disappointed. As for the waiver, this is a date and not an official trail ride, so I shrug that off, too.
“You sure you have time to ride?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I shift in my saddle, the leather cracking. “I need this to shake off the last of my nerves.”
“Why are you nervous?”
Let me count the ways. “Just hosting in general is a stress. But there’s someone coming tonight who a lot is riding on.”
“Edna B.?”
I chuckle. “She’s the scariest of them all.”
But as our eyes meet, an understanding passes between us. “My dad’s not gonna do anything to you, you know?”
I do. Mostly. But right now, all I’m remembering are the years before when he had done something—shown up at the stables, criticized my home and land, and prevented Sleepy Holler from happening due to my “lack of care and experience.”
But there’s no reason to hash all this up again.
We move through a grove of trees and out into a clearing. The fences line our pathway forward, and we follow along the wooden posts, our conversation shifting to my rodeo days, her job hunt, then back to the event.
The sun hangs just above the mountains, casting a golden hue across the grass and trees beyond, so we stop for a minute to take in the view.
I dismount first, then move to help Juliet, who waits for me this time. My hands spot her hips as she swings her right leg over the horse, and I take a second to admire those pockets again before she settles on the ground and smooths out her sweater with a breathless, “Thanks.”
I lead her toward the fence as she motions to the horses already ducking their heads toward the grass. “Do we need to tie them up?”
“They’ll stay close enough. They’re the easiest to catch, anyway.”
She nods, then joins me by the fence as we lean against it to face the departing sun. We should probably be talking about tonight—how to better prepare myself to be near her dad again, but I don’t want to face it yet. Not when I’m already feeling uneasy.
It’s probably nothing more than anxiety—I’d felt it frequently enough on bulls. Then again, I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen. Something that’s going to prevent me from seeing Juliet—permanently.
“You live in such a beautiful place,” she says, pulling me from my thoughts as her eyes slightly squint toward the dim light of the sun. “You must love it here.”
“More than anywhere else I’ve ever lived.”
“What made you stay?”
I think for a minute, staring out at the pink and blue hues of the sunset.
“I used to love my summers here as a kid, visiting Aunt May and James. But when I got busy rodeoing, the visits stopped. It wasn’t until after Stetson’s death that I finally had the thought to come back because it’s the only place I ever felt true peace. ”
I pause, staring across the land, my stables visible as a dot in the distance. “I started out in an RV on a rented piece of land from Aunt May. It only took a few days to know it’d be permanent.”
“What made you start the stables?” Juliet asks next.
“Horses were my therapy. I mean, aside from actual therapy. I figured if they could bring peace to anyone else, even for a short time, it was a fine thing to pursue.”
She peers up at me, her eyes as deep blue as the darkening sky. “You’re a good man, cowboy.”
Her words mean more to me than she’ll ever know. Her goodness—her faith and belief in me—have changed me, maybe even convinced me to believe that I am good.
She leans against the fence, her arms folded as her stare continues.
Her warmth replaces the sun’s touch on my skin, and an image flashes in my mind.
Juliet sitting on my porch swing with me and a blue-eyed baby.
Horses flicking their tails in the distance.
A future of security, peace, and joy ahead of us all.
The image is one of tranquility and overwhelming joy.
And I want it something fierce.