“He left when I was eighteen,” I say. “Ma finally kicked him out after he was caught with a local woman. That was her line. She couldn’t stand for him sleeping around with someone she knew, so she made him leave. Cassandra was twenty so shedecided to stay home and help Ma with running the ranch. In the summers, I started helping out, and I eventually dropped out of college to work there full time. And then I started competing to bring in more money.”
“I see,” Candice says. “That’s a lot of responsibility to take on at that age.”
“It is. But it’s no different than what you and Beau did after your grandparents passed.”
“Damn. It sounds like the two of us really deserve a vacation,” she jokes.
“Tell you what, Viper. You beat me in this race, and I’ll throw in an all-expense trip to wherever in the world you want to go.”
“It’s clichéd and stupid, but I’ve always wanted to go to Paris. It looks so beautiful in all of the photos and that’s where my dad took my mom when they got married. I want to go to all of the same places they went and take photos in the same spots.”
“That’s not stupid, Candice. That’s beautiful.”
I want to tell her that I’ll take her to Paris any damn day she wants, for a month if it will make her happy. But just because I realized I’m in love with Candice, doesn’t mean she feels the same for me. She’d never leave Star Mountain for that long, anyways, especially not to go on a vacation.
“Thanks. I’ll make it there one day,” she says. “And you’re not like your father, Nathan. Even if Kerry treated you like you are, you’re not. You are whoeveryouwant to be.”
My breath hitches in my chest as her words hit me. If I’m whoever I want to be, then why did I spend so many years chasing the next high by hopping from bar to bar, and woman to woman? If I don’t evenlikebeing a player anymore, then why do it?
“Can you tell me who that person is when you meet him?” I say to Candice, swallowing down the emotions that are raging through me.
“Sure thing,” she says, smiling over her shoulder at me.
“So, where are we racing to?” I ask.
“How about to that line of trees over there?” She points out in the distance.
“Perfect.”
I line Bally up next to Maggie and give him a few pats for good luck.
“Ready,” Candice says.
“Set.”
“Go!”
31
CANDICE
Maggie surges aheadof Ballantine immediately, the wind rushing by us as I urge her into a full gallop. She complies easily, happy to be given the chance to run as fast as she wants. Maggie loves being this free, and I often let her out in the biggest paddock we have, where she can run and play to her heart’s content.
Ballantine and Nathan start to gain on us, and I say, “Come on Mags, let’s show ‘em that a rescued Mustang can beat a pampered show pony any day.”
“What did you just say?” Nathan calls out, pulling level with us.
I spare him a glance and see that he has a wild look in his eyes that mirrors the freedom Maggie is feeling. He looks so at home, so happy like this—just him and his horse, not a worry in the world.
“I said your horse is a pampered show pony,” I say over the sound of the wind rushing in my ears.
“Come on, Bals,” Nathan says, giving Ballantine more rein.
Ballantine leaps ahead of us, his hooves pounding against the hard ground, his chestnut tail flying behind him. Nathan lets outa whoop of joy. His energy is infectious and even as Maggie falls further behind, I still feel happier than I have in months.
I no longer care about winning—I just care about having this small moment of joy with my horse and my—my whatever Nathan is to me.
Maggie, though, clearly still wants to win, and she picks up the pace just a bit, inching towards Ballantine. The line of trees is getting closer and closer, and I whisper words of encouragement to her as she gallops onwards.
