Heather watched Luke Conner from the corner of her vision as he went over some Ramshorn business or other with his mother behind the log-slab counter, and he must’ve sensed her gaze because he glanced up and made his way to the table she shared with her two best friends.
“Can I bring you ladies anything else?” he asked.
“I’ll take a refill,” Heather replied, handing him her glass.
“I’m good. Thanks,” Christina said.
“I’ll have a refill, too,” Ainsley added.
He took the two glasses behind the bar, refilled them with iced tea, and brought them back before laying the check face-down in the center of the table and striding away to greet the party of six walking in.
She didn’t say it out loud, but the fact that so much of the smiling, charismatic boy she’d known in high school had returned gave her hope.
She glanced covertly at him again. It wasn’t that she harbored any feelings for him anymore. She didn’t. But she couldn’t help but wonder from time to time what might’ve happened had he said yes when she’d asked him out at the Hayfever potluck that godawful summer. He and Shane McGuire were probably the two men of all she’d dated or hoped to date closest to what she needed.
They both knew what it was like to break.
Even Ty, as patient and compassionate as he was, couldn’t truly understand that.
But they’d all been too young to be serious about anything, and by the time they were old enough to start thinking long term… JP’s plot had taken its toll on them all. Still, Luke had found the love of his life, and Shane had reunited with his. They’d healed. And if they could come through everything they had to find love and happiness, anyone could. Even her.
“He’s a totally different man since he married Ryan,” Heather observed. “It’s good to see that.”
“All right, you opened the door with that comment,” Ainsley said. “It’s time to spill it. Have you talked to Dustin since you broke up with him?”
“No,” she replied.
“Has he even tried to call you?” Christina asked.
“Once—a few days after. He left a message, and I haven’t called him back.”
“Are you going to?”
“Hadn’t planned on it.”
Ainsley’s clear blue eyes twinkled mischievously. “You do tend to stick to it when you decide you’re done with a man.”
“Yeah,” Christina replied with a brow lifted. “Even when she regrets it.”
“Missing a man isn’t the same thing as regretting breaking up with him,” Heather retorted.
Christina stared at her, and Heather held her gaze defiantly. The woman had apologized for her judgmental comments about Jeremiah, and Heather had rescinded her hurtful claims that Christina wasn’t as good a friend as she’d once been, but it was still true that their friendship was strained. And the way Christina’s eyes narrowed, daring her to bring it up again, was not helping the situation.
“Hey, now,” Ainsley said, glancing between them. “None of that. You’ve both made your apologies, so let’s not create reasons to need more of them, all right?”
“Sorry,” Heather muttered.
“Me, too,” Christina murmured. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded. It’s just… I don’t like that you and Curtis are angry with each other right now.”
“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle—I am—but as long as he refuses to admit that he was a dick, I have nothing to say to him. Or to the rest of my family.”
She had no hope of explaining why she was so defensive of Jeremiah or why she was letting that come between her and her family, so she didn’t try. Instead, she leaned back in her chair and let silence settle awkwardly over their table while she sipped her iced tea. When Luke neared their table on his way back from seating his new customers, she yanked her wallet out of her back pocket, dug out enough cash to cover their bill and his tip, and held it up.
“Need any change?” he asked as he snagged it on his way by.
“Nope. Don’t need a receipt, either.”
“It was my turn to get lunch,” Christina said quietly.
“Call it my way of apologizing for being a bitch.”
Nodding, Christina levered herself out of her chair. “I’d best get back to the ranch. Brianna’s not feeling well today, so I need to help Lily cook dinner for the crew.”
Heather wasn’t feeling remotely charitable, but she made herself stand and embrace her friend. No matter how annoyed she might be, she wasn’t willing to lose one of her best friends. That Christina hugged her as tightly and lingered as long as she did was a testament that she was just as aware of their weakened friendship and didn’t like it.
“Don’t let my mom work you too hard,” Heather murmured.
“I won’t.”
Heather waited until Christina had slipped out the door before she sank into her chair, and she stared at the door for a long time after that with her brows drawn together. Christina had been married to Curtis for six years, so she and Heather should’ve had plenty of time to adjust to how that had affected their friendship, but instead, it was getting more difficult to find common ground. Between this third baby and Curtis’s decision to retire from boxing after his upcoming match in July, this last few months had exacerbated the problem. As much as Curtis tried to pretend he was ready to retire and spend more time with his family, Heather wasn’t blind. His pride was suffering; he’d failed to win any titles in his career, and being the son of a Golden Gloves boxer, that surely stung. It didn’t matter that Curtis hadn’t had access to the same world-class training their father had.
“Does she seem happy to you?” Heather asked Ainsley.
“She’s been under a lot of stress lately,” her friend replied thoughtfully. “This pregnancy has been hard on her.”
“The pregnancy or Curtis retiring from boxing?”
“Probably both.”
Heather’s frown deepened. “I wonder if this is the life she really wanted. I mean, come on. Three kids in six years, doing the stay-at-home-mom thing? It’s not her. It’s like she stopped being the Christina we knew when she married my brother. Whatever happened to the girl who partied it up in college, who dreamed of being an equine veterinarian, who said she’d never play the happy little housewife?”
Ainsley stared at her iced tea with her lips pinched between her teeth.
“What?” Heather asked.
“Dreams change. And Christina isn’t you. So maybe cut her some slack, all right?”
“Yeah, sure. I could be reading too much into it.”
“You probably are. But I will say this. I whole-heartedly disagree with what she said about Jeremiah. I don’t know him well, but he’s always struck me as a very sweet guy.” Ainsley leaned over and hugged her. “Besides, you do have great taste in men, even if you always seem to pick the ones who fit your family’s ideals and not yours. Maybe that’s the problem.”
Heather nodded. She’d thought the same thing on her birthday.
“It says a lot to me that you’re so defensive of him. You’ve never defended any of your boyfriends before.”
“I’ve never needed to.”
“Maybe there’s something here that’s been missing before.” Playfully, Ainsley nudged her. “And you can’t tell me you aren’t thinking about something more than friendship with him.”
“I did kiss him on my birthday,” Heather agreed slyly.
“What?! And on the day you broke up with Dustin?”
“I’d like to blame the alcohol, but I was barely tipsy.”
“Gallus.” Ainsley shook her head, grinning. “But that’s so you.”
She laughed at that. Glancing at her watch, she stood. “We’ll have to continue this chat later. It’s about time for me to head down to the Lazy H. Tracie called yesterday to ask if I could come by to give Jessie some barrel racing pointers.”
“Well, she couldn’t ask for a more talented teacher.”
“Thanks, Ains. I’ll talk to you later.”
Heather left, lifting her hand in farewell to Luke and his mother as she stepped outside. She still had more than an hour before she needed to be down to the Lazy H to set up for her afternoon lessons with Aaron Hammond’s fifteen-year-old daughter, but it was too nice a day to be indoors. Besides, if she headed down early, she might have a chance to watch Jeremiah at work, get a better feel for who he really was. He, the Hammonds, Austin McGuire, and Jake Stirling were branding today, and they’d be in the pen right next to the outdoor arena, so she’d have a perfect viewpoint to spy without being obvious. And maybe while she was at it, she’d give herself and her horse a workout in the arena to warm up before she had to focus on coaching Jessie.
She drove down to her family’s small ranch, which sat across the road from the Lazy H, sandwiched between the much larger Circle S and C-Diamond ranches. Her father and brothers were in the pen beside the barn branding and vaccinating calves, and she hoped she’d be able to load her horse without them noticing she was there. She hooked up to her two-horse trailer, parked in front of the barn, and walked around it to the small pasture… but her horse wasn’t there. With a growl, she strode over to the pen. So much for avoiding her family.
Sure enough, the younger of her two brothers was astride her stout blue roan mare.
“Hey, Brock!” she yelled over plaintive bawling of cows calling for their calves. “Why the hell do you have my horse?! I told you last night and this morning that I needed her today.”
“Tubbs threw a shoe!” he yelled back.
“So use Hank.”
“Why don’t you use Hank?”
“Hank can’t corner worth a shit, dumbass. I need Rain.”
“Tough. I’m busy.”
She climbed over the fence and dropped into the pen, startling a dozen calves. “Get off my horse, Brock, before I knock you off her.”
“We’ve got work to do here, Heather,” her father snapped.
“So do I. And Rain is my horse—chosen, paid for, and trained by me.”
“And you agreed to let us use her from time to time in exchange for boarding her on this ranch.”
“Excluding those times when I need her for my work. This is one of those times, and I made sure to let you all know last night.”
“Just use Hank,” her father said. “Come on, Brock, Curtis. Let’s get back to work.”
How could he have gone to all her rodeos, watched her compete and win all those ribbons and trophies, and not have learned enough to know why she couldn’t just use Hank?
“No.”
Her father spun on his heel. “Excuse me, little girl?”
“You heard me just fine. I need my horse for my job.”
She stood nose to nose with her father, glaring up at him. The fury that snapped in those fierce blue eyes should’ve made her cower, but she would not be intimidated by him.
“Brock, give your sister her damned horse.” To her, he added, “Don’t expect me to be so forgiving the next time you—”
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll find somewhere else to board my horses so we won’t have any problems in the future. And you can also expect to pay for my services like everyone else from this point forward.”
“You are part of this family, young lady, and you are expected to contribute to it like the rest of us.”
“When I start being treated like a full member of this family, maybe I will.”
Seething, she took Rain’s reins and turned away, barely biting back the insults gathering in her mind. Most days, it was hard to remember when they hadn’t had this ranch—she, at least, had taken to it like a duck to water—but on days like today, it was all too obvious that her father had bought it sight unseen and moved his family from the Kansas plains to this secluded Montana valley without any clue how to run a ranch. Had she really been fourteen already when they’d moved out here?
She glanced back just in time to see Brock clumsily manhandle a calf to the ground and snorted. Some rancher he was. Sixteen years of branding, and he still hadn’t figured it out.
She led Rain into the barn so she could unsaddle her and check her over before she loaded her. She hung Brock’s saddle on the hitching post in front of the barn and loaded her horse in the trailer, glad she’d had the forethought to load all her tack in the trailer this morning before she’d gone out to lunch with Ainsley and Christina.
Since Tracie had told her Jessie would meet her at the outdoor arena at two, she headed straight there. The barrels were still set up from Jessie’s frustrating practice yesterday—the one that had prompted Tracie to call her—so she unloaded Rain, saddled her, and walked the mare lazily through the course. Noting some resistance and stubbornness, Heather directed the mare around the barrels, switching up the distance from them and which barrel they turned around first.
It wasn’t long before Rain was responding to even her slightest commands.
“That’s my girl,” she murmured. “Brock was plow reining you again, wasn’t he. Because he’s too dumb to know how smart you are.”
She continued their workout, watching the goings-on in the pen next to the arena. Compared to her family’s fumbling branding operation, the Hammonds and crew worked effortlessly together, like a well-oiled machine. Even Jeremiah. He wasn’t much of a roper, but he had no trouble at all dropping the calves to the ground to be branded and vaccinated; every movement of his lean and deceptively powerful body was confident and fluid and incredibly fascinating. Even more intriguing was the way he stroked the calf’s head, apologizing for the pain.
He might’ve been doing this five years less than Brock, but she couldn’t tell watching him. Of course, he’d probably branded or helped brand easily five times as many calves in his career here on the Lazy H. But that wasn’t the difference that struck her the most. It was his easy, open smile and the way he teased his companions and was teased in returned.
This wasn’t just a job to him or a means to an end or a way to please his father like it was to Brock.
He loved this.
Like her, he hadn’t been born to this life or even raised in it, but it suited him every bit as well as it suited her.
Henry caught her watching, nudged Jeremiah, and grinned. “Enjoying yourself?”
“I am,” she replied. “Not much in this world more fun than watching an octet of sexy cowboys doing their thing.”
“You need to have your eyes checked if you’re including me, girl,” Austin said gruffly.
“Mmm. You and John are the best looking of the bunch, Austin.”
John snorted. “Then you need to have your head checked, too.”
“Well, most of these boys here got their good looks from somewhere, didn’t they?”
“Yeah—their mothers,” Jake teased.
“Oooh!” the others crowed before breaking out in good-natured laughter.
“Come on, boys,” Austin said. “These calves ain’t gonna brand themselves.”
Heather watched them as they got back to work, noting how they playfully bumped and prodded Jeremiah. She didn’t have to hear them to know they were teasing him about her, and she liked that he took it with a smile.
He was part of their family and part of the Northstar family, she mused, glancing at Austin and Jake. She loved this community and all its residents, and she wished her family had put more effort into becoming a part of it when they’d moved here.
For a moment, she let her eyes drift closed to let the rest of her senses take over. The warmth and movement of her horse, the heat of the bright sun beating down on her, the scents of dirt churning beneath Rain’s hooves and horse sweat melding with the crystalline air, and the steady, rocking rhythm as she nudged her mare into a walk toward the center of the arena….
Right here in the saddle with the towering mountains surrounding her, the sapphire sky above, and the freedom of wide open spaces filling her and driving out all the bad vibes—this was her home. This was where she belonged.
Opening her eyes, she turned Rain toward the gate, then pointed her at the barrels. Sensing what was coming, Rain quivered with excitement, her ears forward. With a deep breath, Heather leaned over Rain’s withers and tapped her heels to the mare’s flanks. Rain shot forward and Heather turned her toward the left barrel. They rounded it with just inches between her thigh and the barrel and raced toward the second barrel.
Thrill pumped through Heather’s veins. Every fiber in her body was perfectly in tune with her horse. Time seemed to stop even as they flew through the course and sped back toward the gate. Sitting back in the saddle and loosening the grip of her legs, she slowed Rain to a walk, and she couldn’t keep the triumphant grin from her face as she leaned over the mare’s neck and scratched along her mane.
Claps and whistles came from behind her, and she wheeled Rain around to find John Hammond and his entire branding crew perched on the log rail fence of the arena.
“Don’t you boys have calves to brand?” she called.
“We do,” Nick replied. “But we’re taking a break. That was some incredible riding.”
“It was,” Henry agreed. “I knew you were good, but damn, woman.”
“No wonder Jess is so excited you agreed to coach her,” Aaron added. “You should’ve seen her last night when Mom told her you’d give her some pointers. I thought she was going to hit the ceiling.”
“Thanks.” She beamed and tried not to wonder why it was so hard for her family to be complimentary of her skills when it came so naturally to the Hammond clan. She wondered…. “Um, John? I have an odd favor to ask.”
“Shoot.”
“I need a place to board Rain for a while. We’re completely out of room over at the Bar E, and it’s just not going to work out with her at my folks’ ranch. Could I pay you to—”
“No, you can’t,” the rancher interrupted. “But she’s welcome to stay here as long as you need. Since you’ll be coaching Jess from here on out, it only makes sense to keep your horse here, right? When we’re all done, Jeremiah can show you which pasture to put her in. Bring that racehorse of yours over, too, if you need to. We’ve got more than enough room for them both.”
Well, hell. That was easy. She lowered her head with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. All right, boys,” John called. “Heather’s here to work, and so are we, so let’s get back to it.”
As the men turned back to their task, Heather caught Jeremiah’s gaze, and their lips curved at the same time. He hadn’t said a word, but the way he watched her—with desire and a hint of reverence—spoke volumes. Maybe a week and a half wasn’t enough time to get over her breakup, but it wasn’t like she was pining over Dustin. And besides, Ainsley was right. Jeremiah was different than the others she’d dated, and if he was different, a relationship with him would be, too… and it might be the one to work out. Unless, of course, she just wasn’t cut out for happily ever after.
* * *
“Hey, you guys need to see this,” Henry called. “Especially you, Jeremiah.”
“Especially me?” He released the calf and pushed to his feet. “Why especially….”
His voice trailed off when he saw what had distracted Henry, and he understood immediately why he’d be more interested than their companions. Heather was setting up for a run around the barrels. As if a magnet pulled him, he strode to the fence and climbed up it with his eyes locked on her.
The way she clung to her mount through those tight turns….
She was fierce and magnificent—strength and poise and grace embodied.
“I think our boy here is in love,” Jake teased, perching beside him.
“He does have that starry-eyed look,” Austin agreed.
“Shuddup,” Jeremiah muttered without heat, still mesmerized.
“The way you’re looking at her right now and that kiss on her birthday….” Aaron laughed. “It was a date.”
“It wasn’t a date,” he corrected automatically for the hundredth time in the last week and a half. “We went out as friends.”
“So you keep saying, but I’m not buying it,” Henry remarked.
When Heather finished her run, his companions clapped and whistled, and she turned toward them with surprise edging the radiant joy from her face. She recovered in a heartbeat, and Jeremiah listened to the ensuing conversation, watching her expression carefully as his companions complimented her. For someone who had won multiple awards and who made her living training horses and their riders, there was a disconcerting amount of humility and even shyness in her eyes.
When John told them to get back to work, he lingered, unable to turn away from her, and when their gazes met and they smiled at the same time, his heart tripped over itself.
For years, he’d hoped to catch her attention, and now that he had it… it was incredible.
“Jere,” Nick called. “Come on.”
Reluctantly, he turned away and reclaimed his post near the fire where the brands—a simple H turned on its side—were waiting red hot for the next calves to be branded.
“Now I’m positive it was a date,” Jake said. “Did you guys see that look just now?
“It wasn’t a date,” Jeremiah groaned.
“Then maybe you should ask her on one,” Nick retorted. “Tonight would be good.”
“Your mom cooked dinner for us.”
“Yeah, and Heather’s already here. And you know Mom made enough for her, too, just in case.”
“I doubt she’ll say yes.”
“Jeremiah,” Austin said quietly.
He turned his attention to his roommate.
“You’ve been waiting for years for a shot with her.” The older man reached over and gripped his shoulder hard enough to make him wince. “This is your shot. Take it.”
With his lips pressed into a line, he nodded, and gestured to the calves, hoping they would take the hint and let the matter drop. He didn’t mind the teasing—their jesting was born of an easy camaraderie that had been missing from his life for a long time before the Hammonds had hired him and folded him into their family—but, as John had pointed out, they had work to do, and the sooner they finished it, the sooner he’d be able to focus on Heather.
Because Austin was right. For the first time, the door was open, and he’d waited too long to let his chance slip away.
Nick and Henry cut a calf from the small group left to be branded, working so seamlessly together that Jeremiah wondered if they’d developed telepathy after all their years working together. Nick roped the calf’s head, Aaron hooked her heels, and without a word, they backed their horses to put tension on the ropes. Jeremiah stepped in and lifted the calf off her feet with Nick’s son Will half a step behind him to help him pin her to the soft dirt of the pen while Austin pressed the brand to her flank and John administered the vaccines. The older men slipped the ropes off the calf, and in short order, she was up and racing across the pen to where her mother bellowed for her. Henry and Jake already had another calf roped, and the process was repeated for the three-hundredth time that day.
The team slipped back into their easy rhythm, and in less than an hour, the last calf of the day had been branded, vaccinated, and turned loose into the pasture with her mother. Since they’d finished early, Jeremiah leaned against the fence with John, Jake, Austin, and Will watched the three brothers practice heading and heeling on the male calves they would brand tomorrow.
There weren’t many things he couldn’t do around the ranch anymore, but he’d long ago accepted that he’d never be as good a roper as any of his companions. Not even seventeen-year-old Will.
Finally, John called an end to their frolicking, and he, Nick, Henry, and Jake led the horses into the barn to be unsaddled and brushed down while the rest of their crew set to work cleaning up.
“You all make that look so easy,” he remarked to Aaron.
The older man shrugged that off. “You want to see someone make it look easy, you should watch Andy Epperson. He’s truly gifted. In fact, if you ever want to learn from a master, I bet he’d show you a few tricks. Give him a few weeks, and you’d probably out-rope every one of us here.”
“I doubt that.”
“Why? You’ve taken to everything else about this life like you were born for it.”
Jeremiah only nodded, wondering why he suddenly felt self-conscious. It wasn’t often anymore that he doubted his ability to do anything that was asked of him in this job. Maybe it was nerves about the prospect of asking Heather on a real date. His heart skittered in confirmation.
“Ah,” Aaron said, glancing to the arena where his daughter was currently circling her buckskin gelding around one of the barrels. “This doubt isn’t about your roping skills. You’ve got a lot to offer, and now that you’ve got her attention, she’ll see it. So make sure you invite her to dinner before you head back to the bunkhouse to get cleaned up.”
He had every intention of doing exactly what Aaron suggested, but when they finished cleaning up, Heather was back on her horse and demonstrating some technique or other to Jessie, so he gave in to his nerves and walked up to the bunkhouse he shared with Austin. Murph trotted faithfully by his side.
The bunkhouse was small with two tiny bedrooms at the rear and a tinier bathroom between them, a kitchenette and dinky dining area to the right of the front room, and the living room with its worn couch and recliner to the left, but it was tidy and comfortable. More importantly, it was home. He kicked off his manure-encrusted boots just outside the front door and headed for his bedroom—the one behind the kitchen—and stripped out of his filthy clothes with an amused shake of his head.
“I’m covered in shit and grime, and I couldn’t be happier about it,” he laughed.
Murphy jumped up on the bed, and Jeremiah obliged, vigorously rubbing him all over. “You may not be much of a cow dog, but at least you stay out of the way.”
Lifting his gaze to the only photo he had of his entire family, his amusement faded a little. Would any of them have believed the turns his life had taken? Would they be proud of what he’d become, or would they be too embarrassed and disappointed by the stupid choices he’d made that had brought him to this point to appreciate the hard work it had taken to get here? He hoped they’d be proud, but he’d never know.
He climbed into the shower and ran the water hot to stave off the aches he’d surely be feeling from today’s branding, wondering as he washed his hair—now two-inches long instead of the four-inch mop it had been last week—if it was weird that he appreciated Tracie’s haircuts so much. It wasn’t the money she saved him, but rather the reminder of his mother cutting his hair in the kitchen of their house in California. He suspected Tracie’s haircuts were the reason those memories were still clear when most of the rest were in danger of fading into oblivion.
That question was still on his mind when he stepped out of the shower and wrapped his towel around his waist. He paused in front of the mirror, noting the bruises that were beginning to form where a calf had kicked him. He was proud of the muscle definition working on the ranch had given him even if he still looked too short and skinny next to the Hammond brothers, who all stood three inches taller than him at an even six feet with heavier frames.
Frowning, he slid his fingers over the slash of puckered, shiny pink skin that curved around from the nape of his neck to the front of his right shoulder, then turned his left side to the mirror and traced the other, similar scars. There were three smaller ones on his left arm between his shoulder and bicep and a patchwork of half a dozen more on the left side of his back from the top of his shoulder blade to his lower ribs. The largest of them he could cover fully with his palm.
“You about done in there, kid?” Austin called. “Or do I need to go shower down at the main house?”
“I’m done,” he replied and turned abruptly away from the mirror before the memories attached to his scars had a chance to take root.
As he passed Austin, the older man regarded him with a brow lifted.
“You didn’t ask Heather to dinner before you came up here, did you.”
Austin wasn’t asking a question; he already knew.
“Well, it looked like she and Jess were getting ready to call it quits when I left, so you might want to get your ass down there before she leaves. Unless you’d rather spend dinner getting harassed instead of getting to know that girl better.”
“I think I’ll get my ass down there.”
Chuckling, Austin slapped him on the shoulder and ducked into the bathroom.
Jeremiah dressed quickly in his favorite pair of soft-worn straight-leg jeans and a plain gray-blue T-shirt that, he realized as he ran a comb through his damp hair, was the same color as Heather’s pretty Silverado. Smiling at that, he trotted into the living room, yanked on his clean work boots, and laced them snuggly.
“Stay, Murph.”
The dog grunted and gave him a look with his ears back and the whites of his eyes showing that said, You’re killing me.
“See you down at the main house!” he called to Austin.
“Why are you still here?” his roommate replied.
He didn’t bother responding. His old Ford started like a champ, as always, and when he parked it next to Heather’s thirty-two-year-newer Silverado, he patted the hood on his way to the arena.
“You may not be as pretty, old girl,” he said, “but I bet you’ll be running long after that young thing is rusting in the junk yard.”
“You’re probably right about that,” Heather remarked.
He froze mid-step and glanced up. He hadn’t realized she’d been standing so close, just inside the fence of the arena. As he reached her, she glanced over him with a teasing smile that couldn’t quite hide her appreciation of what she saw, and his neck heated uncomfortably.
“You clean up pretty nice, Mackey.”
“Took some work to find me under all the grime,” he remarked, “but I managed.”
He ambled over to the gate and slipped into the arena to watch Jessie practice. As far as he could tell, she seemed like she had a good handle on her horse and how to run the course, and he knew she was a talented rider, so he didn’t understand her breakdown yesterday.
“What’s the deal?” he asked Heather. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this girl as frustrated as she was yesterday.”
“For one, she just started working with Cisco a week ago, and he’s a great horse—quick on his feet, athletic, and smart—but they’re not used to each other yet, and when she fell off and hit the barrel first thing yesterday….” She shrugged. “It shook her confidence, and he sensed her tensing up and started shouldering the barrel.”
“And that means…? Sorry, I don’t know the terminology.”
“He’s dropping his shoulder to turn around the barrel and hitting it more often than not.”
“And hitting the barrel adds time to the run.”
“Exactly.”
“So, how do you get her to stop tensing and him to stop shouldering the barrel?”
“A few different ways, but today we’re working on stopping him when he starts to drop his shoulder and then turning him away from the barrel.”
Jeremiah watched Aaron’s daughter do exactly as Heather described, and one corner of his mouth lifted. “Incredible.”
“Not really. It’s pretty basic.”
“No, I mean you. What you know, how well you know it.”
She ducked her gaze, but he caught the shy smile she tried to hide. “Thanks.”
“Eleven years,” he said, “and I still have a lot to learn about this life.”
“You can’t tell.” Her eyes rounded like she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “I mean, you fit right in with the Hammonds and Austin and Jake. If I didn’t know, I would think you’ve been doing this all your life. You’ve certainly picked it up faster than my dad and my brothers. Curtis and Dad are decent, and of course Todd knows what he’s doing, but Brock’s an idiot.”
He stared at her with his head tilted and a frown drawing his brows together. “I don’t understand.”
“We haven’t had the Rocking A all that long. Dad retired from boxing when I was fourteen and decided he wanted to be a rancher, so he bought it from my brother-in-law’s parents when they were about to lose it to the bank.”
“So… where are you from? I’ve always thought you were born and raised here.”
“Nope. Dad didn’t buy the Rocking A from Todd’s family until I was fourteen—that birthday was my first day on the ranch. I was born in Kansas. Mom grew up on a dairy farm in the middle of nowhere.”
His lips quirked. “You know, most people think Northstar is the middle of nowhere.”
“Nah. Northstar’s mountains make it feel like somewhere.” She shuddered. “I can’t stand the flatlands. Makes me feel like I’m at the edge of the world and about to fall off. Dad’s a mountain boy—born and raised in Missoula—and I guess I inherited that from him. What about you? Where were you born?”
“Huntington Beach, California.”
She gave a teasing groan. “Oh, God, you’re a Californian transplant!”
“Maybe, but I’ve been in this county longer than you. I was eleven when I moved in with my grandparents after my parents died. They had a construction company in Devyn. Joe was already here, learning the trades with the idea that he’d take over from them some day.”
He turned his gaze out across the pastures of the Lazy H, blindsided by the rush of grief. Ah, Joe.
He slammed the door on those thoughts. They had no place in his head anymore. Blaming himself for his older brother’s death was useless and only cast a shadow over everything Aaron and the rest of the Hammonds had done for him, and he refused to repay their kindness with regret. Maybe Joe had confronted Aaron on his behalf, but it had been his choice to threaten Aaron and Erica with a gun. What had he hoped to accomplish?
That was a question Jeremiah would never find an answer to, so he let it slip away as he did every time it entered his mind.
Abruptly, he turned to Heather with a grin and changed the subject before she could probe into his past. “I’m supposed to invite you to join us all for dinner. Specifically, to join me for dinner.”
“I’d love to.”
The speed with which she replied stunned him. It was almost as if she’d known the invitation would come.
“All right, who was it?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” Her tone was just a little too sweet and innocent.
“Who told you I’d ask?”
She fought the smile, but it spread across her face all the brighter for the battle. “I think the list of who didn’t tell me might be shorter. Aaron mentioned it first. Then Nick, then John, then Austin.”
“Those buttheads,” he said fondly. “I can’t even be annoyed at them for their meddling.”
“No, you really can’t,” she agreed. “They love you. And anyhow, I was going to ask if you wanted to go out tonight. I thought a swim at the Ramshorn sounded like fun, but maybe there’ll still be time for that after dinner.”
“Wait. You were going to ask me out?”
Without the slightest hint of hesitation, she nodded.
“You sure you’re ready for that? It hasn’t even been two weeks since you broke up with your boyfriend.”
“I’m sure. It’s like Ainsley said at lunch today—when I’m done, I’m done and ready to move on.”
He stared at her with his mouth agape as the seconds ticked by. Was this conversation really happening? “I’m sorry to be dense, but I can’t quite believe this is real. Does this mean we’re exclusively dating, or are you thinking just a couple of dates first to see if you’re interested in more?”
“It means we’re exclusively dating, if you’re on board with that. I’ve never been much for casual here-and-there dating.”
He almost laughed. If the frank discussion wasn’t so surreal, he would have. Figuring it would sound monumentally lame and pathetic, he refrained from admitting just how long he’d waited for this opportunity. “Sounds good to me.”
“Good. Because I’ve been wanting to do this again since my birthday.”
She slipped her arms around his neck and claimed his mouth with a dizzying confidence and quickness. Vaguely aware that Jessie was loping her horse around the arena and could be watching, he kept a tight rein on the desire raging through his veins. But good God. The way Heather angled her body against his was incredible, and when she broke away, he groaned low in his throat.
“Don’t forget,” she whispered, “John said you’re supposed to show me where to put my horse when Jess and I are done.”
“Uh-huh,” he mumbled, dazed. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Oh, I’m always ready.”
The insinuation in her words was so blatant that he swore under his breath.
With a smug grin, she touched her lips lightly to his before slipping away to address her student. Feeling a little like the world was tilting beneath him, Jeremiah leaned against the fence and watched her saunter away.
One thought resounded in his head. Heather Brown was a wildfire, and if he managed to avoid getting burned, it would be a miracle.