6. Summer
Summer
“When’s the last time you rode a horse?” Wyatt’s voice carries out of the indoor arena as I cut across the yard.
I slow down before I reach the arena door.
Jaxon never showed at five in the morning.
Not that I expected him to. I figured I’d give the brothers a day or two before they worked up the nerve to come find me and ask for help.
“I don’t know,” Jaxon replies. “High school?”
“You sure you remember?” Grady asks.
“Of course I do,” Jaxon says confidently. “It’s like riding a bicycle, right?”
“Maybe you should ask someone first,” Rhett says. “Like Earl.”
“He probably can’t even get a leg over anymore,” Jaxon says. “Besides, I don’t need permission to ride our horses.”
“They’re not ours yet,” Grady reminds him.
“Minor detail,” Jaxon says. “I’m just going out to take a tour of the property.”
So he wants a closer look at the farm without Earl or me around. Probably so he can count up what he can sell.
“Maybe you should ask Summer before taking that one out,” Wyatt suggests.
“This isn’t Summer’s farm,” Jaxon says.
But I’m the one who’s been running it, which is something he seems perfectly comfortable ignoring.
If he’s willing to ignore that, then he won’t think twice about that old barn I’m using for Wildflower Farms. Nothing in the will addressed it, which means it’s still part of the Chance estate.
Jaxon could technically revoke my access whenever he wants, and then I’d have nowhere to prep my flowers or store supplies.
“Didn’t you just recover from knee surgery?” Grady asks.
“Doc cleared me. Why don’t you boys join me? It’ll be like old times.”
“I’m not getting on a horse,” Wyatt says flatly. “I have a contract that requires me to keep my bones intact through the end of football season.”
“My contract also prohibits activities that endanger my career,” Grady says.
“Does it say horses specifically?” Jaxon asks.
“I feel like that animal could end my career,” Grady replies.
“What about you, Rhett?”
“My agent would kill me,” Rhett says. “Even if I’d look good up there.”
“So none of you are coming.” He pauses. “You’re all a bunch of sissies.”
“We’re being smart,” Grady says.
“You’re chickens,” Jaxon fires back.
“Wise chickens,” Wyatt adds.
“Fine,” Jaxon huffs. “I’ll go alone. It’s not like I need a chaperone anyway.”
“You sure about that?” Grady asks.
“Of course I am,” Jaxon says.
I should walk away and let Jaxon make a fool of himself, but something pulls me forward.
I step through the arena door and my heart nearly stops.
Jaxon is in the round pen with Rebel, easing the saddle pad onto her.
She tenses, tail flicking, then shifts her weight as he reaches under her belly for the cinch.
The moment he pulls it snug, she drops her head, arches her back, and gives an explosive buck, hindquarters launching straight up.
Jaxon jumps out of the way at the last second, stumbling backward and going down hard in the dirt.
Rebel takes off around the pen, the lead rope whipping behind her, the saddle barely holding. The brothers stare. No one’s brave enough to say I told you so.
I clamp my mouth shut. I am not going to laugh. I am not going to laugh. I am not going to… The snort comes out through my nose.
Jaxon climbs to his feet, brushing the dust off his jeans before he turns around to face me. “You think that’s funny?”
“Actually, yes.” Watching Jaxon Chance get shown up by a horse might be the most satisfying thing I’ve seen all year.
He wipes his hands on his jeans. “I’d like to see you do better.”
I pull a peppermint from my pocket, an old trick I learned from Miriam, and enter the enclosure.
“What are you—” Jaxon starts.
I hold up one finger and angle my body away from Rebel.
Don’t look at her or move toward her. Just keep the peppermint flat on my open palm and wait.
Rebel trots a half circle around the pen and swings her head toward me.
Don’t fail me now, Rebel girl.
She inches toward me, then a little more before her warm nose finds my palm.
I grab her lead line. “Hey, girl,” I murmur, stroking her neck. When I glance up, all four brothers are staring at me like I’m the horse whisperer.
“What?” I shrug. “She’s not ready for a saddle yet.”
I’ve worked with horses for a while now. I know all their personalities and quirks. They need time, just like humans.
“Would’ve been nice to have known that before I almost got kicked,” Jaxon mutters.
“You didn’t ask.” I tilt my head. “She was barely halter-broke when your dad bought her. You need to earn her trust before you put anything on her back.”
“Seems like a horse that green isn’t worth our time,” Jaxon says. “Put her on the list, Grady.”
My gaze darts between the brothers. “What list?”
“Just taking an inventory,” Jaxon says, like it’s nothing. “What to keep, what to sell.”
“You’re thinking of selling her? There’s no way your parents would want that!”
“They’re not here.” Jaxon looks at me like he’d rather get kicked by a few more horses before asking my opinion on the matter. “And nothing’s been decided yet.”
“Your dad bought Rebel because of her bloodline. Her foals could bring in a lot of money at Keeneland.”
“Maybe we should listen to Summer,” Wyatt cuts in.
“You have proof of that?” Jaxon asks.
“I’m sure the auction paperwork is somewhere in the farm office.” I rest a hand on Rebel’s nose, unwilling to let her go without a fight. “But don’t make a snap decision just because your pride took a hit.”
Wyatt barks out a laugh that turns into a cough when his brother cuts him a sharp look.
“I’d like to talk to Earl first about the finances,” Jaxon says. “And the horses.”
“Be my guest,” I say coolly. “But Earl left an hour ago. Once Ada Mae finishes lunch, they go home to rest. He’s seventy-five and was asked to come out of retirement. I think the man’s earned a nap.”
“Then who’s managing the broodmares?” Jaxon asks. “I’ll talk to whoever’s running that operation.”
I step forward. “You’re talking to her. Miriam couldn’t manage the mare barn on top of everything else after your dad died, so she taught me the job.”
He glances at his brothers. “Why didn’t she tell us?”
I fold my arms. “It wasn’t easy for her to ask for help.”
“I’m sure she appreciated you taking over,” Jaxon says, already turning away. “But this is a family matter now. We’ll take it from here.” He starts to walk away.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I follow him, my voice rising. “If you’re making changes, I want to be a part of any decisions with the mares.”
He doesn’t slow down. “My brothers and I need to figure out our plan first. I don’t need your opinion on that.”
I turn to Wyatt for help, but he just shrugs.
Jaxon’s pushing me out of everything. The horses. The farm. Everything I’ve poured my life into.
I throw one hand in the air. “Fine. Suit yourself.”
He stops, and I give him the lead line. “Oh, and Rebel still has the saddle on. You’ll want to take that off before you put her away.” Then I walk out without looking back.
I’m not chasing after a man who won’t listen to me. I know this place and everything in it better than anyone, but I have no legal standing to decide its future. My hands are tied, and Jaxon refuses to acknowledge me when it comes to the farm.
Instead, he’ll go to Earl, and our farm manager will tell him what I could have.
Earl might be loyal to his bones, but he doesn’t have the energy for this place anymore.
It’s only his love for the Chance family that keeps him and Ada Mae here at all.
We desperately need someone who’ll keep the operation from bleeding out slowly, and the only person who can actually do that is Jaxon…
which is the most inconvenient truth I’ve had to face in a long time.
I should just step back, let Jaxon publicly fail, and wash my hands of the situation. But I can’t do it. If he goes down, Lucky Chance goes with him.
The only way we could make this work is if he’s willing to see me as an equal. And that’s not happening when he can’t wait to leave.
He made that clear back in high school when the rumors about us began. His friends started talking during lunch, and I was only two tables away.
“You know I’m not staying in this town after graduation,” he said. “There’s nothing here for me.”
And that’s when I realized I was part of that nothing.
Whatever I thought I’d felt the afternoon I jumped off the rope swing into the pond, I’d read him completely wrong.