at his lack of hesitation. He stepped forward, sure-footed and eager. In fact, she’d never sensed him this excited, not even before a barrel race.
Was he showing off for the kids?
“Here you go.” With an oomph, Benny hefted Harley’s saddle over her horse’s back. She didn’t need her eyesight for this, she mused, while her fingers flew nimbly, fastening and cinching out of habit. A budding light of confidence flickered inside.
With a boost from Benny, she swung her leg around Harley, and her lips twitched up in an unstoppable smile. Settling back in the saddle felt good. Like coming home.
“Fran? Kids? You ready?”
“Yes!” they chorused.
“I’ll lead you around,” her mother called from below, but Amberley shook her head. She could manage this small-sized corral, and she’d discern the fence in time to avoid it.
Most important, at least for today, she wanted to imagine that she could ride Harley on her own. She owed it to her horse, to injured, shorthanded Joan, and to her mother, who needed to stop fussing and get her life back.
Maybe, in this insular little world, Amberley could pretend she had a purpose after all.
SWEAT TRICKLED DOWN Jared’s jaw as he rode his eleven-year-old quarter horse, Chance, behind a herd of ambling longhorns. Petey, a stray who’d become one of the ranch’s top work dogs, loped along. Overhead, a vast blue sky arched above craggy mountaintops. The musky smells of livestock and leather mingled with the sweet pine of the tree breaks in the clear, dry air.
Nothing invigorated him like riding in high open spaces, he thought, chest expanding in a deep breath. Well, nothing except winning under the big lights and watching Amberley’s eyes light up in a smile.
He tamped down thoughts of his best friend. Amberley wanted nothing to do with him. Last week, she swore she didn’t need his help, and her rejection stung, leaving a rawness inside that hurt anytime his mind turned her way.
How was she?
Had her vision worsened?
Picturing her holed up in her house, giving up, bothered him to no end. It killed him to think of his gutsy, fearless pal that way. She’d never been a quitter and had succeeded in everything she’d done. Not a day passed without him staring down at his phone, willing himself not to call.
To leave her be.
He was a man of his word.
With a slight tug of the reins, he guided his sleek gray stallion around a depression in the field and clamped his teeth. But it made no lick of sense for her to walk away from their friendship. She meant a heck of a lot to him, and he’d thought that went for her, too.
Guess he’d been wrong.
Or she was just being stubborn.
His money was on his second guess, but how to know for certain?
Don’t interfere with something that ain’t botherin’ you none, his pa always said.
But it did. Maybe too much.
Enough.
He swayed slightly in the saddle and forced his mind on the day’s tasks. His gaze traveled over the brown-and-white-spotted cattle, checking for stragglers. Black-and-white herding dogs prowled on the edge of the lowing, bleating group, working seamlessly with him and his siblings as they drove the cows and their offspring toward the day’s pasture on the western edge of Laurel Canyon.
As a grass-fed, organic beef operation that guaranteed humane treatment of its animals, Cade Ranch avoided artificial fertilizers and pesticides. Instead, they moved their cows daily on a two-week rotation system that allowed the land time to recover between grazing periods. The labor-intensive work entailed traveling on horseback instead of ATVs to keep the cattle relaxed and used to their presence. The natural, chemical-free environment, begun by his father shortly before his passing eleven years ago, was good for the herd and for the business. They commanded top dollar on the beef market.
He sure wished his personal life was that successful.
Life had gone his way before his ACL injury and now this roadblock with Amberley. He’d made grudging peace with giving up professional football, his lifelong dream. But how long before he’d let his longtime friend go?
His nonstop thoughts of her suggested no time soon.
When a couple of longhorns halted and dipped their heads to a grassy spot, he squeezed Chance’s side, trotting closer. He pursed his lips, but Petey rushed forward before he whistled, anticipating human directives in his uncanny way. Jared yanked off his hat and waved it in front of his flushed face as Petey’s lunges got the cows hoofing again. The heated air barely stirred the hair plastered to his forehead.
He had a date tonight with a new gal. A pretty little thing. Sweet and friendly and easygoing. Uncomplicated—just the way he preferred. And she liked daisies, he recalled. She’d told him so when he’d complimented her flower hair clip at last night’s county fair. As for her name, he struggled to recall it since they’d spoken only briefly at her busy 4-H fair booth.
Laureen.
He shook his head, shooed away a nagging fly and settled his hat back on, pulling the brim low against the sun.
Loranne.
No. Still not right.
Laurie-Anne.
Aw. Shoot. He’d have to ask his little sister, Jewel, who loved giving him grief about his pathetic (her words) dating life. But seeing as the only male in Jewel’s life was her black stallion, Bear, Jared didn’t put much stock in her opinion. He’d never had any trouble with women except keeping their names straight from time to time, and now Amberley freezing him out.
But Amberley wasn’t just a woman. Well. Not the dating kind. Sure, when he’d first spotted her at a local junior rodeo, he’d wanted to ask her out. He’d never seen a prettier girl. Astride a mount that looked too big for her dainty frame, thick, honey-blond hair swinging beneath a black cowboy hat, eyes so blue a boy could drown in them, he’d frozen in his boots, sure he’d glimpsed an angel. Her white teeth flashed when her rosy lips parted in a smile at the fawning crowd of young men. Then her gaze tangled with his and she’d rolled her eyes, ever so slightly, a comical gesture, a private communication, that began a connection that’d strengthened through the years.
Until now.
His personal life wasn’t much without her in it. As for his professional life—he stifled a yawn—it wasn’t exactly fulfilling these days either. Chance’s head bobbed up and down as he wove in between the cattle with Petey sticking close, checking individual cows for signs of fatigue or distress.
Once he’d imagined his destiny the way his father described it: cheers, trophies and records, a hero’s life, not this sedate ranch work punctuated by local wins at rodeo or pool competitions. He needed more, something to divert his attention longer than another evening with the latest gal
