“Can we stop now?” Gigi leaned on the handle of her pitchfork. “I’m tired.”
“Fifteen more minutes,” Matthew said. “Tired is good. It means you worked hard.”
“That’s what you always say.”
I smiled as I tossed manure into the wheelbarrow, enjoying their father-daughter banter. He could not have been a more different parent than Freddy, who overindulged our kids terribly. I always had to be the strict parent because someone had to teach the boys how to save their money and show up for their commitments even when they didn’t feel like it. It annoyed me to no end that he got to be the fun parent all the time.
“I bet your kids never had to muck stalls,” Gigi said, as if she were reading my mind. “Right, Lauren?”
“My sons never mucked stalls,” I admitted, “but I think they would have benefitted from it. Your dad is giving you a chance to develop a strong work ethic. That’s the most important thing in life. If you have everything handed to you, you don’t learn the value of hard work or how good it feels to accomplish something on your own steam. I made my sons get summer jobs from an early age because that was important to me, and now they tell me they’re glad I did.”
Freddy was furious the first time I “forced” Julien to work on his summer break from high school because he couldn’t take the boys to France and Switzerland for months on end, frittering their days away the way he did. We were long past doing family vacations together by that point, so I told him he could have the first two weeks of summer to travel with the boys, and everything from there on had to be spent working at least a part-time job in the city. If they couldn’t find their own work, I had plenty for them to do at my office. Freddy had called me a “jejune, workaholic American” to which I replied, “This workaholic American has been supporting your ass for twenty years” and that ended the summer job argument.
“I’m going to raise horses here at Silver Sage when I grow up,” Gigi said, her voice singing with pride. “If Dad lets me, that is. I want to breed Appaloosas.”
I expected Matthew to say something to support her dreams, and when he didn’t, I took a guess at why that might be. Judging by how few guests they had at the ranch,maybe the place wasn’t bringing in enough money to sustain another generation of the Hart family. The land here was beautiful, but the ranch buildings clearly needed modernizing. My heart hurt when I thought about Gigi possibly having to say goodbye to a place that meant so much to her. Certainly, Matthew had a plan in place to make sure that never happened?
Although I hadn’t known her for long, I already felt a kinship to this girl. She appeared to have a rich internal life, with her books and horses, and I could definitely identify with that. Without Tori as my other half during our middle and high school years, I would have been a wallflower instead of a person who got invited to parties and asked to the prom. Gigi had something special that I didn’t have as a young person though—somewhere she could be her horse-loving self and feel totally accepted—and that was Silver Sage Ranch.
“That sounds like a wonderful life plan,” I said. “There’s no reason you can’t make those dreams come true.”
Matthew didn’t echo my sentiments, further making me question the future of this wonderful place. “Let’s finish up here and get some lunch,” he said. “There’s plenty of other work I need to do this afternoon, and Lauren needs to get back to her vacation.”
* * *
After a delicious middaymeal in the dining room, I took a long soak in my bathtub to ease the soreness that I knew was going to show up in my backside and legs after our trail ride. The bathtub in my cabin was nowhere near as luxurious as the one I’d had my eye on buying for a long time—a soaking tub made of hinoki wood harvested in Japan. This was a fairly standard steel tub with some age on it, along with that scratchy anti-slip material on the bottom that wasn’t exactly comfortable on the buttocks. Still, the hot water felt good on my muscles and, as I relaxed, I daydreamed about Matthew astride his muscular Appaloosa gelding. No wonder the Marlboro Man was such a sex symbol back in the day. Ridiculously, I found myself wondering what Matthew would look like with a thick mustache. Facial hair aside, there was something about a man on horseback, riding through an open expanse of land. I really thought he was going to kiss me when we were alone in the stables the previous evening. I certainly was giving him the signals that I wanted it to happen, but the stupid rings on my left hand probably made him stop.
Why was I still wearing them, anyway? I twisted the beautiful emerald-cut diamond engagement ring, the soapy water loosening it easily on my finger. Then I pulled it off and set it on the side of the tub. The diamond encrusted platinum wedding band was a little harder to get over my knuckle, but I eventually succeeded. Symbolically speaking, they represented a union that soured way too early and then lingered on way too long. Still, they’d been with me for a long time, and my finger felt naked.
“Goodbye,” I whispered, feeling a little silly about talking to inanimate objects. Examining my heart for any lingering sadness about my divorce, I found nothing but regret that I’d never get to wear those beautiful rings again. It would be stupid not to sell them, but they still held sentimental value for me, representing a time in my life that wasn’t all bad. I raised two wonderful boys and built a company with my sister. Maybe that’s why I left them on my hand for so long, but it was time for a fresh start.
As I got dressed after my soak, I checked my phone for the first time since before my morning ride. A missed call from Tori sent me into a panic. Had something happened at Ms. Match or, more importantly, to our mom? No one had been able to contact me for more than half the day.
Thank goodness she picked up her phone when I called her back.
“Calm down,” Tori said. “I just called to see how things were going there. I miss you.”
We’d been apart for similar stretches of time when one of us was on vacation, but the distance between us now felt vast. Whether that was because I was in a remote location without reliable access to WiFi and cellular service or because I was having experiences I hadn’t told her about…well, it was difficult to say.
“I miss you, too,” I said. “I’m having fun here though. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but landing at the wrong ranch might be the best mistake that’s ever happened to me.”
When I described my lovely morning trail ride, I didn’t mention that I was the only guest with Matthew and Gigi. I also didn’t tell Tori how handsome and attentive he was, or that we’d shared a beer and a visit to the stables the evening before. She would have been happy for me, I was sure of it, but she’d also encourage me to have a vacation fling with him, and even hearing that would cheapen what I felt for Matthew. He wasn’t one-night stand material. Matthew was a guy you fell for, head over heels, and cherished deeply. Not that I would have minded finding out whether I could enjoy casual sex, and I’d certainly imagined what it would be like if I could spend the night with him.
“I’m so glad you’re having fun,” she said. “I was able to get you a reservation at Silvery Sage Resort and Spa in Montana, but they didn’t have any openings until a week from Tuesday.”
“I really appreciate that, but I’m very comfortable here, so I think I’ll stay put. I might visit the shooting range tomorrow. There’s also a horseback ride up to a campfire cookout in the mountains next week that sounds pretty great. They prepare beans and cornbread over an open fire.”
“A shooting range? Camping survival tactics? Oh God, I’ve sent you to a doomsday cult! Do they teach you how to skin rabbits, too?”
Now it was my turn to tell her to calm down. “Chill out, Tori. This is normal Western stuff, nothing bizarre.” At least it seemed normal, but what did I know? I wasn’t even sure how to make a campfire, much less cook over one.
“I hate to ask you this, but have you heard anything from Tempest about whether Freddy has agreed to your terms?” she asked. “Or is he still being a greedy butthead?”
“Greedy butthead,” I confirmed. “They’ve been negotiating all week, and I’m expecting a call from her tomorrow.”
“I hope to hear good news soon then,” she said. “Until then, have fun with the hot rancher.”
“Wh-what?”
