Chapter 5 #2
“Well, Othello hasn’t thrown me into the dirt yet, so I guess I’m doing okay.”
Sage winced. If only he knew. Othello was the horse Mark had been riding the day of his accident and had returned to the barn without him. She pushed the memory aside before it could take hold.
“It’s beautiful up here. Do you ride through the woods often?”
Pulling a bottle of water from her saddlebag, she handed it to him before grabbing another for herself.
It was cooler there among the trees, but the temperatures were still in the low nineties.
Hopefully, the rain that was predicted for tonight would knock it down a few degrees.
“Not as often as I would like. But I try to come up at least once a week. It’s my time to forget I’m a mother and ranch owner with all the stress those things involve.
I get to clear my mind and relax. Some women go to day spas… I come up here.”
“I like your style. Although I get the feeling I’ll wish for a day spa when I’m hurting tonight.”
She pointed in front of them. “There’s a small, spring-fed lake about ten minutes from here. We’ll take a break there.” She grinned. “If you can make it that far, New York.”
A smirk spread across his face. “You’re on, Oklahoma. Lead the way.”
When they finally approached the lake, movement caught her attention, and she pulled on the reins. Beside her, Adam did the same, bringing Othello to a halt. “What’s wrong?”
“Look.” She pointed to the water’s edge, where a deer and two small fawns were taking a drink.
The mother lifted her head at the sound of Sage’s voice and stared at them for a moment before lowering her muzzle to the water again.
“That’s why I love coming up here. I’ve always loved animals… big, small, cute, ugly… any and all.”
“I could tell when you watched the foal being born this morning. Your eyes were just as bright as the kids’ were. It’s easy to see where they get it from.”
She blushed—why, she didn’t know. Maybe it was just that he’d noticed how much she loved watching the birth.
Leaving the momma and her fawns alone, Sage led Adam further around the lake before stopping and dismounting. She stifled a laugh when he groaned and stretched. She might have to give him tomorrow off since they still had the ride back.
Taking the reins of both horses, she led them to the water so they could drink. The sounds of nature surrounded them—the small waterfall fed by the underground spring from further up the ridge, the calls of the different birds, and the rustling of a small unseen animal running through the brush.
She could stay there all day.
“What are you thinking about?”
Startled, her gaze met Adam’s. “Why?”
He grinned. “Because you had this faraway look in your eyes, and you were smiling at something I couldn’t see.”
Shrugging, she took the saddlebag off Othello and sat on a large, flat rock.
“Nothing really—just how much I love it up here. Believe it or not, this is still Hammond property, but I’m not exactly sure why they bought it back in the eighteen-hundreds or kept it over the years.
It’s not farmable or useful for any reason.
Well, maybe that’s why it still belongs to us because who the heck is going to buy it other than the government, and they’ll just make it into a state park.
” She moved over to give him room to join her while pulling out the lunch she’d packed for them.
“Then you’d be dealing with hikers and campers traipsing through your backyard.” He took the sandwich and napkin she handed him. “Did you grow up in Rosewood?”
“No, but the town I did grow up in was about the same size. Saddle Brook, Oklahoma, is about an hour and a half from here. Mark and I met at college. We were both business majors, but he was a year ahead of me. He proposed to me right after my graduation, and the rest, as they say, is history.” After making sure they had everything they needed, she unwrapped her sandwich. “What about you? Small town, big city?”
“Somewhere in between. White Plains is about thirty minutes north of New York City and has a population of around sixty thousand. My foster father was a police sergeant there, and his wife was a teacher before they started fostering kids. They didn’t have any of their own and felt that with their backgrounds they’d be perfect foster parents… and they were.”
Swallowing a bite of her sandwich, she washed it down with a sip of water. “You mentioned you were with them in your teens. What about before that? Did you know your biological parents?”
He nodded. “Sort of. I never knew my father, and I was eight when the State took me from my mother because of abuse and neglect. Apparently, she left town after that, and I never saw her again.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “Oh, my God. Adam, I’m so sorry. That must’ve been awful.” Her heart clenched for the young boy he’d been and what he’d gone through. “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”