“Stop cock blocking Nate, Ma,” one of his brothers yells from another room.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “How have they already figured it out?”
“Don’t worry,” Nathan says, a note of something like sadness in his voice. “I didn’t say anything. We’re safe. They just think I have a thing for you is all.”
“It’s not that I’m ashamed of you or anything,” I say after a moment, realizing that might be why he sounds upset. “It’s just Beau. And your brothers know him pretty well since he used to work summers here at the ranch so…I just don’t want him to find out about us. At least not from someone other than me, and not about our lessons either.”
Nathan nods, just once, but his face looks tense. I feel like I’m making a mess of whatever is between us—like things are rapidly spinning out of my control. This was supposed to be simple and easy—fun—but when he gets that look in his eyes, I’m not sure what to make of it.
We get out of bed, and as soon as we’re dressed in the same clothes we wore yesterday, we make our way to the kitchen. We’re greeted by the smell of pancakes and syrup, and coffee. The coffee in particular smells divine, and I make a beeline for the carafe.
Cassandra is making herself a cup too and she wordlessly hands me a glass bottle of whole milk. I can tell from her demeanor that she’s not a person of many words in the morning, so I take it and smile rather than trying to engage her in conversation. I dump some sugar and milk into my coffee, and after the first few sips, I start to feel settled.
Things with Nathan and I are fine, and are going to stay that way. He’s probably just feeling bad about lying by omission to his best friend. I decide that when we get back to Star Mountain,I’ll work on figuring out how to tell Beau that Nathan and I are involved casually. I don’t want to ruin their friendship.
I take a seat at the kitchen table, and a heaping pile of pancakes appears in front of me immediately, as if by magic. They’re blueberry, and dotted with butter and syrup.
“Are you two going to head back to Star Mountain today?” Susan asks from the other end of the table.
“Depends on the roads,” Nathan says, catching my eyes.
“The roads will be fine given that the snow has stopped,” Cameron says, around a mouthful of pancake.
“We’ll give it another couple of hours just to be safe,” Nathan says.
I mouth “Thank you” at him and don’t even care if anyone sees. He’s looking out for me—prioritizing my needs and making sure we won’t start driving until it’s absolutely safe.
“You should go for a ride,” Cassandra says, speaking her first words all breakfast. “It’s cold out but it might be nice to show Candice some of the ranch.”
“I’d love that,” I say immediately. I might not like driving in the snow, but I absolutelyloveriding in the snow. And I’d love to see some of the cutting horses they have in the stables again. Horses who have the innate cow sense needed to make good cutters fascinate me, and I’ve always wanted to work with them.
“Nathan?” I prompt, as he’s still silently chewing his pancakes and hasn’t responded to Cassandra’s suggestion.
“Oh, yeah, of course I’ll take you. We can go for a long ride and then check the road conditions when we get back.”
“Great,” I say, smiling over my coffee mug.
Nathan smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
26
NATHAN
The ranch looksbeautiful covered in snow, and it makes me oddly nostalgic for my childhood, insofar as I even had one. It’s been too long since I was really home, I realize. Too long since I spent more than a few nights here at once. Too long since I saw the familiar sight of our barns and herds of cattle day in and day out. Too long since I rode through the expanse of land we own.
Candice strides ahead of me with purpose towards the stables, her blonde braid bouncing behind her and her black Stetson looking formidable against the snow. Even though she’s only been here for a single day, she already walks around the place like she knows it well. And I have to admit—I like the sight of her marching around my home a lot more than I should.
We tack up a couple of the horses my family uses for snowy rides. They’re hardy and have sure feet, and we leave them unshod to make it easier for them to feel the ground under the snow.
“What are their names?” Candice asks, giving hers a scratch on the side.
“Cranberry and Thistle,” I say. “We’ve had them for a few years now and they’re great in the snow.”
“They’re adorable,” she coos, rubbing Thistle’s forehead.
“You’ve never met a horse you didn’t think was adorable, Candice,” I say.
“That’s right,” she says, smiling widely at me. “All horses are perfect angels. Except for the ones who are perfect devils.”
