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Chapter 6

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The idea of horseback riding had seemed a lot less intimidating when there wasn’t an actual horse present. Now that Weston had tacked up a little gray gelding and it was standing right next to Dani, she was beginning to rethink this plan.

“She’s so big,” Dani whispered, gazing at the beast standing next to her.

Weston laughed. “She’s a he, and he’s actually one of the smallest horses we’ve got here on the ranch.”

The ranch. Weston hadn’t mentioned it when they’d set out, but they weren’t going to ride at a stable or on a farm. No, they were going to ride on the Stroh Family Ranch, a five thousand acre property that had been passed down Weston’s family for generations until, at last, it belonged to him.

“What’s his name?” Dani asked, trying to buy time before she actually had to get up on the horse.

“Hurricane,” Weston said.

Hurricane?” Dani gulped. “Is that because he’s, like, super fast and wild?”

Weston laughed. “No, ma’am. The names a bit of a joke, because he’s probably the gentlest, slowest horse we’ve got. The only time you need to worry about him is when we’re heading back toward his stall and he smells food.”

Hurricane stared at Dani with his huge brown eyes, completely unimpressed with this new human. She patted his coat gently and his eyes closed with pleasure.

“He likes you,” Weston assured her. “Now, ready to ride?”

It took Dani about ten minutes of Weston gently leading Hurricane around an exercise arena before she felt confident that they little gray gelding wasn’t going to run off with her.

Once she was comfortable, Weston hopped on his own horse, the golden colored mare he’d ridden in his victory lap at the rodeo the previous night, and led them out onto a trail.

They traveled over miles of rolling yellow hills, the green grass of spring drying out in the hot summer sun. Hurricane occasionally reached his head down to pull up a mouthful of grass and wildflowers, chewing noisily as he plodded behind Weston and his mare.

“Your horse is really pretty,” Dani said, admiring the way the sunlight glinted off the mare’s golden coat. “What’s that color called?”

“She’s a palomino,” Weston explained. “The other fellas give me a hard time, sometimes, for riding such a fancy-looking little mare—”

“Why?” Dani couldn’t believe anyone could find anything about Weston to pick on. He seemed so perfect.

Weston shrugged. “Ah, it’s nothing. Most of ‘em ride tough lookin’ little cow horses and Cherie here—” He leaned down and patted his horse along her neck, ruffling her soft white mane—“is a little bit prissy for their taste. They don’t mean nothin’ by it, though. They just need to let off a little steam after I beat ‘em. And I always beat ‘em.”

“You’re good,” Dani agreed. “Not that my opinion means anything—”

“It means everything,” Weston pulled up his horse abruptly and turned to Dani, the sunlight glinting off his rugged profile. “I’m really glad you made your way to Sagebrush, Dani.”

She smiled at him, a real smile this time, not her dazzling Danica Douglas marketing grin. “I am, too, Weston. I am, too.”

They rode for a while, stopping every so often to let the horses drink from a stream. It was on one of these breaks—the horses drinking while Dani and Weston dangled their toes in the icy creek—that Dani turned to Weston and asked him an inappropriate question.

“Why aren’t you famous?” she asked.

Weston nearly choked. “What?”

Dani shook her head. “Sorry, that came out so wrong. What I meant was: you’re an incredible rider. Why aren’t you nationally known? Why don’t you have, I don’t know”—she gestured to the buckle on his belt— “a bigger belt buckle?”

“Are you saying I’m not famous enough for you?” Weston looked honestly puzzled.

“No!” Dani wasn’t getting this out correctly. “It’s just...I saw some of those other rodeo guys and none of them, none of them, are anywhere near as good as you are. But the announcer said some of them are national champions. And a bunch of them were parading around the bar, showing off those crazy big buckles. So, why aren’t you a national champion?”

Weston sighed and grabbed a handful of grass to offer his little palomino horse. “It’s because I can never go to nationals,” he admitted.

Dani didn’t understand.

“Dani, how many folks did you see back there at the ranch?” Weston asked.

Dani thought for a moment. She couldn’t remember seeing anyone at the ranch, now that she thought about it. “None?”

Weston nodded. “Exactly. Well, I mean, we’ve got a few more than ‘none’ but I definitely don’t have the crew I need to run the ranch at capacity. As it is now, we’re barely at sixty percent capacity.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Dani said.

“It means we have the potential to be doing a whole lot more with this place,” Weston said. “Heck, my daddy ran this place at eighty percent, but I can’t seem to get it up and running right. No matter how hard I try, I can’t make the dang ranch turn a profit.”

“So sell it,” Dani suggested and Weston looked at her like she’d just slapped him across the face.

“Sell it?” he whispered. “Dani, I know we just met and you’re new to Sagebrush, but...my family built this town. Stroh Family Ranch has always been a pillar of the community in this town, and there’s always been a Stroh in charge of it. My daddy worked his ass off for that ranch, and my granddaddy and then my great-granddaddy before him. I don’t even know how many great-great-granddaddy’s we have to go through before we get to the original founder, Ennis Stroh.

“A Stroh has always owned this land and a Stroh always will,” Weston said softly. “We always will.”

“I’m sorry,” Dani said, tentatively reaching her hand toward Weston’s until he accepted it, wrapping her fingers around his. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Weston replied, shaking his head gently. “I’ve had the same thoughts myself from time to time. If I just sold the ranch, I could go on the circuit. If I just sold the ranch, I could be a national champion. But those dreams seem small when I hold them up against the generations and generations of my family who’ve worked themselves to the bone for that land.”

“I understand,” Dani said.

Weston turned to her, he blue eyes soft and fond. “I thought you would,” he said, “if I just explained it right.”

The wind whipped up, blowing one of Dani’s braids across her face and Weston reached up to gently tuck it back behind her ear. Dani shuddered as his weathered fingers momentarily grazed her smooth brown skin.

For a moment, it was like Dani had stepped outside of her own body. She saw herself lean forward, she saw Weston’s hands brush her jawline, drawing her into him, and then she snapped back to reality and the warm realization that Weston Stroh was indeed kissing her.

His mouth was warm and a bit chapped against Dani’s full lips, and she found herself smiling against the chaste passion of his kiss. Most guys back home would have tried to grope her ass by now, but Weston seemed content to wrap her in his strong arms and enjoy the simple, intimacy of a first kiss.

Behind them, a horse whinnied and finally Weston pulled away, his eyes shining as he looked down at Dani.

“That was nice,” he whispered.

“I have a lot more words for that than ‘nice,’” Dani smiled.

“Oh, really?”

“Most definitely,” Dani assured him. “I might call it ‘scintillating’ or ‘electric’ or ‘breathtaking’ or—”

“I get it, I get it!” Weston laughed. “What did you say you did for work again?”

“I’m in marketing,” Dani admitted. “Although I was just passed up for a promotion so...” She shrugged.

“They’re all idiots, then,” Weston growled. “I can’t imagine anyone passing you up.”

“You did,” Dani reminded him. “Last night.”

“Oh no,” Weston shook his head and smirked at her. “I didn’t pass you up, I just set you aside for later.”

Dani raised one eyebrow. “Really? And how much longer are you planning to keep me on the shelf?”

“Like, I said, I’m a gentleman,” Weston said. “I think I need at least four dates before I’m taking a lady to bed.”

Dani thought for a moment. “And how many dates have we had so far?”

“Well, if we count last night, that’s one,” Weston calculated.

“And then today is two,” Dani agreed.

“Well,” Weston said. “Technically, we had coffee and a walk, then we went for a ride, so I feel like it’s safe to say we’ve had three dates now.”

“If I come to the rodeo tonight?”

If?!” Weston glared playfully.

“Okay, when,” Dani said. “When I come to watch your event tonight? Will that count as date number four?”

He looked down at her, tracing one finger lightly down her neck. Although the summer day was bright and hot, Dani’s skin prickled with gooseflesh. “I think that will definitely count as number four. So? I’ll see you at the rodeo tonight?”

Dani smiled. “It’s a date.”