Chapter Five #2
Her voice brightened. “I do. I used to go with my parents all the time.”
“I’ll grab us a couple of poles. There’s probably a container of worms in the barn fridge.”
Her eyebrows rose in amused horror. “You keep worms in your fridge?”
“The guys do,” he said, chuckling as they bounced onto the two-lane out of town. “In the barn fridge.”
“I’d be afraid I’d grab one in the middle of the night by mistake.”
“You’d have to be pretty desperate for that.”
“True.” She folded her hands in her lap.
They left Clifton behind and followed the ribbon of asphalt toward the farm.
Cole wrestled his thoughts back to neutral.
This was a friendship outing, nothing more.
But when he glanced at Aftyn’s profile, the soft curve of her jaw, the line of her neck, his chest tightened.
He knew the last thing he wanted from her was friendship.
“Heard from Chuck yet?” he asked, shifting in his seat.
“Not yet. I might walk over Monday to see if he’s started.”
“He’s busy but tries to finish up before the holidays. Sells Christmas trees on his lot.”
“I hope I’m gone by then,” she murmured, voice flat.
Cole’s chest sank. You knew she wasn’t sticking around. He kept his eyes on the road.
“Returning to Colorado?”
“Probably.” She twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “Though I’m not sure why. I don’t have a job there anymore.”
“How long had you worked there?”
“Thirteen years.” She sighed, as she looked at fields of grazing cattle roll past. “They let me go for taking time off. I didn’t have a choice.
” She massaged her temples. “The head surgeon had it out for me because I wouldn’t go out with him.
Married, two kids. People reported him but nothing stuck.
Honestly, I was already thinking of leaving.
I’ve sent my résumé to a few hospitals.”
“In Colorado?”
“Yes. Though there are compact nursing states too.” She offered a thin smile.
Cole tapped the steering wheel and said nothing. He needed to hold his tongue until he could sort out his own tangled thoughts. Today was supposed to be simple. Horses, fishing, fresh air. Not broken hearts. Not goodbyes. Not yet.
****
Aftyn sat up as Cole slowed into the driveway, tires crunching over gravel. She’d seen the house before, but only briefly, the day he’d pulled her out of that field. She shivered just thinking about it, the ground trembling beneath her feet as the bull charged.
The single-story log home came into view and she smiled.
A wide porch ran across the front and along the sides, rocking chairs and hanging ferns swaying in the gentle breeze.
A stone chimney rose against the blue sky, leaded glass windows flanking a hand-carved oak door with Western motifs worked into the wood.
Cole parked beneath a sprawling cottonwood at the side of the house and climbed out with a stretch. She did the same, breathing in fresh-cut hay and distant wildflowers.
She was shading her eyes to look across the yard when she froze. The bull stood behind the weathered rail fence, obsidian eyes fixed on her, unblinking.
“Yeah, I don’t like you either,” she called out. He turned and walked away with surprising dignity, and she laughed.
“Let’s head inside and I’ll make sandwiches,” Cole said.
She looked at him, wishing he’d take those sunglasses off. “I can help.”
The steps creaked under his boots as he led her up to the porch, opened the door, and nodded her inside, hanging his hat on the peg.
The kitchen smelled of lingering coffee, copper pots gleaming from a ceiling rack.
A Golden Retriever came skidding across the hardwood and planted himself at her feet, tail sweeping.
“Oh, you are precious.” She crouched to rub his ears. “Where were you the first time I was here?”
“Probably out with the guys. They take him to run by the creek. His name’s Ollie.”
“Ollie.” The dog leaned into her hands, eyes half-closed. “My aunt had a Goldie. Sweetest dog, always bringing everyone his favorite toys.”
“That’s them. Loyal to the bone.”
Aftyn looked up at Cole, his broad shoulders backlit by the sunlight pouring through the window, and her heart caught. “Can he come with us?”
“Sure. He loves to run. Just have to keep him out of the pond or he’ll be soaked before we get started.”
Cole pulled open the fridge and laid out thick-sliced ham, crisp lettuce, and vine-ripened tomatoes, then held up a bottle of mustard and a bottle of mayo. “Which one?”
“Mayo.” She grimaced as if he’d offered her something far worse. “I hate mustard.”
Cole tilted his head, a lock of dark hair falling across his forehead. “What’s wrong with you?”
Aftyn laughed, sunlight slanting across the counter. “It’s fine in potato salad, but my aunt puts too much in her deviled eggs and I can’t eat them. Do not tell her I said that if you ever meet her.”
“Your secret’s safe.” He layered the ham and lettuce on thick golden-brown bread, then handed her the mayo. She smeared a coat on each slice and tucked them into plastic bags while he packed everything into a brown sack.
His gaze drifted to the rack of hats by the door. He lifted a white straw hat and held it out. “This one is my mother’s. Mine would slip right over your eyes.”
Aftyn set it on her head and studied her reflection in the windowpane, the brim shading her face just right. “What do you think?”
“You look like you were born and raised in Montana.” Cole smiled. “Leave your phone here, service is spotty out there. I’ll bring a walkie-talkie.”
She nodded and followed him out. Ollie burst past them into the sunlit yard, and they strolled across the dry grass toward the barn, its roof sloping against a backdrop of rolling green hills.
“How many acres do you have?” Aftyn asked, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Cole paused midway across the yard. “Two hundred each. Ethan’s to the west, Seth’s runs south, my folks’ land stretches east.” He kicked at a loose pebble. “Dad used to grow barley until a drought wiped out his fields and he lost the contract. He handed the reins over to me and was done with it.”
“And you kept it going?”
“I wasn’t going to, not after watching what he went through. I planned to just run the ranch and train horses. Then Ash Beckett showed up and talked me into planting feed crops for cattle. Seth jumped on board too.”
“And Ethan?”
“Breeds and sells barrel racers. His horses trace back to champions, bloodlines that practically carry themselves under the right rider. He’s booked solid. Only Trick Dillon rivals him.”
“Trick Dillon.” Aftyn laughed when Cole rolled his eyes.
“Go ahead, say it.”
“Say what?”
“That he’s handsome. Women seem to love him.”
She shook her head, still smiling. “Handsome doesn’t cut it. He’s—” She sighed and waved a hand. “Gorgeous.”
“He’s also married.”
“I know, I checked. And I think it’s so attractive when a man wears his ring, like he’s proud of it. Some men don’t bother.”
“Depends on the job. You don’t want it catching on something. It’d take your finger right off.”
“Ouch.”
Cole chuckled, slid his hands into his pockets, and nodded her forward. “Come on.”
The barn’s wide doors were open to shafts of light cutting through dust motes, the air thick with straw, leather, and warm horses. Cole strode down the center aisle, hat brim low, his Wranglers doing nothing to hide the lines of strong thighs and a perfectly fitted—
“Get a grip,” Aftyn murmured, and stepped aside to examine the stalls. She ran a hand along a dapple-gray’s muzzle. The horse snorted, breath warm against her palm. “Hello, gorgeous.”
“That’s Smokey,” Cole said from behind her. “Calmest horse in the barn.”
“I’ll take him.” She turned to face him.
Cole fetched a lead rope, clipped it to Smokey’s halter, and led him out beside his own horse. She’d never forget watching that animal clear the fence the day he’d rescued her.
In the tack room he worked quietly, swapping halters for bridles, cinching girths, wiping each edge of leather until it gleamed. Buckles and straps echoed in the high-ceilinged space. He ducked into the next room and returned with two fishing poles and a container of worms.
“Ready?”
She nodded, breathing in hay and horse sweat and wood shavings. “I might need a boost. He’s awfully tall.”
“Sixteen hands.” Cole moved beside her. “Whenever you’re ready.”
She placed her foot in the stirrup, gripped the pommel, and swung up in one clean motion. She sat for a moment, then turned.
“I wasn’t sure I’d manage that.”
“Been a while?”
“Almost two years.” She settled her weight as Smokey shifted beneath her. “I’ve missed this.”
“Then you’re welcome back anytime.” He swung onto his own mount. “Your muscles will remind you tomorrow though. I’ll get you some salve when we come back.”
“I’ll take it.” She smiled.
“Let’s head out before the heat gets worse.”
They nudged their horses forward, leaving the barn’s cool shadows behind for the open fields beyond.