Chapter Ten
Pope made breakfast like a man preparing soldiers for a field exercise, and he didn’t realize how ridiculous that was until Summer stopped in the kitchen doorway and stared at the amount of food on the table.
“Um…are we expecting company this morning?” She pressed her fingers to her lips at the spread of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast stacked on a plate with a jar of jam beside it, and pancakes because Ben asked for them. In the center of the homey table sat the vase of flowers he’d given her.
“We’re celebrating.” He pulled out a chair and waved for her to sit. “Your Saturday off.”
Saturdays off were rare for Summer. The Stockyard needed all hands on deck on weekends too often to hand them out very often, but Pope had memorized the rotation and knew Summer’s schedule.
Ben rushed into the kitchen. “Oh wow! Look at all the food!”
He scrambled into his chair and Summer sank to the one Pope pulled out for her.
He sat opposite her, and their gazes met. “Eat up. We’re going to need the calories.”
“For what?” Ben made a grab for the bacon.
“I’m taking you both to the ranch.”
Ben stopped with a slice of bacon halfway to his mouth. “Are there horses?”
“Yeah.”
“Cows?”
“Also yes.”
Summer’s lips twitched as she tried not to smile. She wore a soft blue sweater that made her skin glow and her hair was pulled back, showing off that sweet spot on her throat that Pope never could resist.
Her eyes went liquid as if she knew his mind was circling ways to sidetrack Ben long enough to haul her off to bed.
“Can I ride a bull?” Ben’s voice jerked both of their attention to the boy sitting there with a mouth full of bacon.
“No.”
“Absolutely not,” Summer said at the same time Pope spoke.
At Ben’s disappointed expression, Pope ducked his head to hide his smile. He reached for the coffeepot and poured a mug for Summer, then himself.
He could already see his plan to bring them to the Black Heart Ranch was one of his best yet. Ben and Summer needed a day of fun together. And she could relax even more there, surrounded by bodyguards and high-level security.
Seeing her at the Stockyard bearing the weight of fear had worn on him. She shouldn’t be watching doors and scanning parking lots. The lack of answers bothered him more than he admitted.
Nothing had happened since the tires or the groceries, and every day that passed made it harder to know whether the threat was still out there or if it moved on.
But he was the new guy at Black Heart. Carson had trusted him with Summer’s protection, and Pope wasn’t about to start freelancing an investigation because his patience was running thin.
For now, he did the job he’d been given.
The Black Heart started as a place where he could rest and get his life together again, and he wanted that for them.
“What can we expect for activities?” she asked, lifting her mug to her lips.
“You definitely want to wear boots and a jacket.”
She lowered her gaze to her plate. “Will we spend any time with the Malones?”
“Who are the Malones?” Ben scooped a bite of egg into his mouth.
“The owners of the ranch,” Pope supplied before turning his attention back to Summer. “We might run into a few. Especially Willow, since she spends a lot of time with the horses.”
Summer looked down at her sweater and jeans, and he already knew what she was thinking.
“You look perfect,” he told her, and was rewarded with a soft smile.
They reached the ranch midmorning, the air bright and sharp and the Wyoming sun pale over the mountains. Ben had his face pressed to the window before Pope ever approached the gates.
“Wow!” he cried out.
“Impressive entrance,” Summer added.
“It keeps everyone safe.”
She turned her head to meet his stare, and he saw all the thoughts churning behind her eyes. But she didn’t say more as he buzzed the gate for entrance and drove up the driveway toward the ranch.
Summer grew quieter, but Pope caught the way her gaze moved over the land. The barns were striking against the backdrop of mountains. The therapy lodge, double its size now, looked like a big, inviting log cabin. Beyond that, pastures spread out toward the mountains.
Her expression softened by the second, and pride moved through him before he could stop it. Though this place didn’t belong to him, he wanted her to love it as much as he did.
He parked in the front and helped Ben out of the truck. Summer stood in the parking area, taking in the activity around the yard, as men focused on their daily chores.
Pope led Summer and Ben to the barn. The airy space smelled of horses and straw, and he filled his lungs with the calming aroma.
A few guys were already here, moving down the aisle carrying rakes and shovels to clean the stalls.
Most of the horses were out to pasture, and he wondered who had taken over that job since he hadn’t been around.
A couple of the guys called greetings to Pope, and seeing Summer and Ben, they dropped what they were doing and wandered over.
Pope introduced them. Then he nodded toward a tall guy with gray at his temples and more than a few shadows in his eyes who’d remained quiet.
“This is Mathis.” He nodded toward another guy hauling a saddle off the rack. “That’s Reggie by the tack room. And this is Harkness.”
Harkness stepped into view with a slow smile and a face marked by burns along one side, the scarring pulling slightly at his cheek and neck. Summer shifted close to Ben on instinct, not away in fear but toward her son because the kid had gone very still.
Pope saw the question coming.
He rested a hand on Ben’s shoulder.
Ben looked up at him.
One look was enough.
The kid pressed his lips together and swallowed the question.
Harkness nodded at Ben. “You like horses?”
“Yeah.”
“Smart kid.” Harkness gave Summer a simple nod. “Good to meet you.”
“You too.” Her tone was warm and sincere in a way that put all the men at ease.
Next came Truman from the far end of the barn with Ranger walking at his side, the big shepherd moving with the calm focus of a dog who knew exactly what his job was.
Ben’s eyes went wide. “Can I pet his dog?”
Pope squeezed his shoulder lightly. “No, Ben. Ranger is a service animal, and his job is to watch over Truman. He’s working.”
Ben studied the dog with serious respect. “Like you work?”
“Pretty much.”
Truman grinned. “Ranger thinks he outranks everybody here.”
Ranger sat beside Truman’s leg and looked straight ahead as if he agreed.
Ben clasped his hands behind his back to avoid temptation, and Pope felt a swell of affection for the kid. Seven years old and already trying so damn hard to do the right thing.
A farm dog came trotting in a minute later, tail wagging, mud on his paws and no purpose beyond begging for attention.
Ben pointed carefully. “Is that dog working too?”
Pope looked at the mutt nosing around near a feed bag. “No. That one’s freeloading. You can pet him.”
Ben dropped to his knees, and the dog launched into affection mode, licking his face as Ben dissolved into laughter. Summer’s face softened as she watched them, warmth filling her eyes in a way that hit Pope square in the chest.
That look right there.
He wanted more of it.
He wanted mornings and ranch dust and Ben laughing with dogs and Summer looking at him like she could trust what was building between them.
Pope cleared his throat before the feeling got too big and led them out to the paddock.
At his whistle, Flint gave a self-important toss of his majestic head and trotted over to the fence.
He reached out to stroke the horse. “This is him. My horse.”
Summer’s jaw dropped. “You never told me you have a horse!”
“He’s a project I’ve been working on.”
The black gelding stuck his head over the fence, ears forward, watching Pope like he expected payment for being present to be admired.
Ben whispered, “Whoa.”
Summer stepped closer, her hand resting lightly on the fence. “He’s beautiful.”
“His name’s Flint.” Pope stroked Flint’s neck, the horse leaning into the touch. “He’s going to auction soon.”
Ben’s face fell. “You’re selling him?”
“That’s the plan. It’s the goal my friend Willow set for me—train Flint and see what he fetches at auction.”
He rubbed a hand down the horse’s shining coat, feeling Flint shift beneath his palm. “Willow taught me everything I know. I didn’t grow up around horses. Never thought I’d be a horse guy. But I discovered I had a passion for this, as well as an ability.”
Summer’s expression turned gentle in a way that made him feel less like a patient or even a bodyguard, but a man who had found a piece of himself he hadn’t known existed.
“Let me show you.” Pope climbed the fence and caught Flint’s halter, leading him into the open.
He probably showed off a little.
More than a little.
He put the gelding through easy movements first, then tighter turns and controlled stops, all while Ben’s face got brighter every time Flint responded. Summer leaned against the rail with her arms folded, laughing when Ben shouted encouragement like he was personally coaching the horse.
Pope hadn’t felt this light in a long damn time.
After that, he saddled three horses and they went for a ride.
Nothing fast or risky, just a slow trail across the open land with Ben riding in front of Pope and Summer on a steady mare.
The mountains rose ahead of them, the air cold enough to sharpen every breath, and Ben talked almost the entire time.
Pope didn’t mind.
Summer kept looking over at them, and every time she did, her face held a softness that made his chest tighten around a future he had no business wanting so badly.
As they returned to the barn, the sound of excited voices drifted to them. They turned the corner to see the yard had erupted into chaos.
People poured out of the buildings, voices rising and falling with excitement. Someone whooped loud enough to startle a horse in the next paddock.
He took care of the horses quickly and they all headed toward the middle of the yard that had always been a happy spot to strike up a conversation, or in this case, have a reunion.