I spare a glance at her and see that she’s white as a sheet, her eyes wide as she grips her phone in her hand.
“Hey, don’t worry,” I say. “It’s just a few flakes and I’m a pro at driving in the snow. Raised on a ranch in Montana, remember? You have nothing to worry about.”
“I need to call Beau,” she says. “He’ll worry.”
She says the words quietly, almost like she’s saying them to herself. I glance over and see her anxiously pressing her phone against her ear. I guess he doesn’t answer, because she leaves him a message.
“Hey, it’s me. We’re driving back from dropping off Jazz Apple and it’s snowing. But everything is fine. Call me when you get this.”
“Candice, what the hell is going on?” I ask. “Why are you calling Beau?”
“It’s snowing,” she says flatly.
“Barely.”
But as I say the word, the flurries turn to steady flakes, and there’s no denying that a storm is likely rolling through. Around us the sky is darkening and it’s not just due to the setting sun.
“I’ll get us out of here fine,” I reassure her. “Don’t worry.”
Candice doesn’t say anything, and I’m keeping my eyes glued to the road ahead so I can’t turn to look at her. Something has her shaken up. I just wish she would share it with me.
“The weather report is saying we’re likely to get a foot. And the road conditions are going to change quickly,” she says after a few more minutes. “Everything looked fine this morning…”
She’s right—it’s quickly becoming icy and dangerous, and even though I trust my driving and the snow tires on the truck, it’s less than ideal driving conditions. Beside me, I hear Candice take in a shuddery breath. And then another. And another.
“Are you okay?” I slow the car down even more, and quickly look over at her. She's breathing heavily, almost like she’s panicking or something. “Candice?”
She doesn’t say anything, but the sound of her breaths fill the air. My heart starts to pound because what the fuck am I supposed to do? I have a panicking woman relying on me to get her home safely, and the snow around us is falling harder by the second. Beau should be here, not me. Or my middle brother, Cam. He’d know what to do. But me? I’m just a washed-up loser. I don’t know how to help Candice right now. She probably doesn’t even want my help—I’m the man she’s happy to fuck around with but she’ll never see me as more than that.
Candice makes a noise that sounds like a strangled sob. My hands shake on the steering wheel, and my gut clenches. I might be a loser, and I might be the last person she wants helping her in this situation, but I’m all she’s got right now. Fixing this—saving her—is up to me.
“Candice,” I say. “I’m going to take the next exit. It will take us to my family’s ranch. We can wait out the storm there. Is that okay?”
Another sharp breath. Another sob. And then, “Yes.”
I drive as quickly as I possibly can in the icy conditions, but still only go about twenty miles an hour. By the time we get to the exit, the road is even worse and the air around us is filled with white flakes. Candice is quiet, but I can tell that she’s not okay. I glance over and see that she’s shaking.
“Candice? I’m going to talk to you,” I say, having no idea what else to do.
I think back to how she told me to help Brown Sugar when we first started working with her. She had me talk to the mare alone in a paddock. Yes, she was fucking with me, getting me to tell Brown Sugar about my hopes and dreams. But the thing is, hearing my voiceworked. It calmed Brownie down, and I’ve noticed that ever since then, she likes my voice. She listens to me. When I tell her that the ring doesn’t mean she has to compete, that it will be okay, she believes me.
So I do the same for Candice.
I start talking to her in a quiet voice.
“When we get to the ranch, I’m going to ask you to tell me about how you think the first time we met went down. Because we clearly remember it differently. The way I remember it, you sat alone at the bar all night, glaring at me and completely ignoring me. It was rude as hell, and when I tried to get you to come out of your shell, you insulted me. It pissed me off, but it also intrigued me. I was used to being surrounded by women who adored me, and there you were, acting like my very presence offended you.”
“Women don’t think you’re God, Nathan,” Candice says in a shaky tone. “Could your head get any bigger?”
“I distinctly remember you saying ‘Oh my God, Nathan,’ many times the other day,” I respond, hoping to make her laugh.
Despite the near white out conditions, I make the turn for my family’s ranch with ease. I could drive these roads blindfolded.
Candice doesn’t respond so I keep going. “The point is, you impressed me. I hated that you impressed me, but you did. You’re…you’re something else, Candice.” It feels inadequate to describe all that she is, but it’s the best I can do right now.
“Thanks.”
Her breathing seems calmer now, so we drive the rest of the way down the snow-covered dirt road in silence. We pass the Blue Hollow Ranch sign, and after a few minutes, we pull up to the sprawling ranch house. My dad built it for my mom when they were just starting out, and they added to it over the years. Since then, I’ve given my mom whatever she needed to fix the place up.
