Page 46 of Careless Hope
Damon nodded his head. “Walk.”
“Caroline, you remember Mason Bridges? He’s the Red Downs Ranch Manager now.” Sutton said, ignoring the testosterone in the air.
“Sure, hi, Mason.”
His smile was welcoming and sincere. “Nice to see you, Caroline.”
“You too. You’ve all got a lovely operation here.”
“Don’t I know it. You’ll have to come by for a tour. I’m sureWalk won’t mind giving you a nice extended ride up the mountain either.”
“That’s what charmed me,” Eryn added with a laugh as she returned to the group.
“We’ll get her on a horse sooner than later,” Walker said, holding me tighter against his side.
“Steak’s up!” Gray called.
“Oh perfect. Everyone, have a seat,” Eryn said, leading the way.
As we settled around the table, I couldn’t help but feel cocooned in this pocket of warmth amidst the cool expanse of the ranch. It was a testament to the Andersons’ ability to create comfort and connection no matter the circumstances—a skill as natural to them as riding a horse or roping cattle.
Their family had always been one of the most prominent in town, not just because they had money or influence, but because they always did their best to take care of the people of Whittier.
“Everything looks amazing, Gray,” I complimented, taking in the spread of food that could easily rival any high-end restaurant in the city.
“Thanks, Caroline.” He nodded, briefly meeting my gaze before turning his attention back to the grill. “Eryn did most of the sides. Family dinners are a tradition here. We always aim to make ‘em count.”
“That’s important.”
He looked at me for a moment and I tried to not feel like I was being put under a microscope. But then he nodded once more. “Sure is.”
Throughout dinner, Eryn’s excitement bubbled over in anecdotes and questions about how Walker and I reconnected, about our ‘relationship’. Each tale we spun tangled us further in a web of half-truths and genuine connection. And with each sharedsmile, each knowing look, I found the boundaries of our pretend connection fading into something far more authentic.
“Can you pass the salt, darlin’?” Walker asked, his use of the endearment rolling off his tongue with ease.
“Sure thing, cowboy,” I quipped back, the nickname slipping out before I could stop it. But instead of teasing me, he grinned, approval lighting up those light blue eyes that seemed to hold a thousand unspoken promises.
As we ate, talked, and laughed under the stars, I caught glimpses of the future Walker envisioned—his own mark on the ranch. A future he wanted to share with me, or so our story went. But sitting there beside him, feeling the heat from his body despite the chilly night, I couldn’t help but wonder why I was letting myself imagine being a part of it.
“Gray’s the real family chef,” Walker said, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Mama always said if the ranching didn’t work out, he could start his own burger joint.”
“Or maybe a steakhouse,” I said, eyeing the meat he’d just brought over on a platter.
“Hey, don’t give him ideas,” Walker shot back playfully. “I’ll never see my bed again if he starts another project.”
“Speaking of projects, I’ve heard Walker’s got some great ideas for ranch,” I ventured, watching as Gray’s gaze shifted to his younger brother, a mix of pride and caution in those blue eyes so similar to Walker’s. I don’t know what made me do it. Sure, I could sit here and play my part in Walker’s plan, but it wasn’t my place to interfere.
Still . . . I wanted good things for him. And I wanted his brother to know that people believed in him.
“Ah, yes, Walker’s grand plans,” Gray said, his tone taking on a teasing edge, but not unkind. “He’s full of ‘em.”
“Good ones, though.” Walker’s voice carried a newfoundassertiveness I hadn’t heard before. “The equine therapy idea has potential. And it’s something I’m passionate about.”
“Passion is key,” Gray conceded, nodding, the big brother facade slipping to reveal genuine respect. “But it’s a lot of responsibility. You sure you’re up for it?”
Walker met his brother’s challenge with a steady gaze. “I am. It’s time I . . . we take this place to the next level.”
In the softening light, I saw that side of Walker that went beyond the charming cowboy façade—there was ambition, a desire to create something meaningful. My chest tightened with an unexpected swell of admiration.
