Claire watched as Gradysaddled the horses with the ease of experience. He’d taken Misty and left her to take “old reliable.” “He knows the trails better than I do,” he’d commented. Her favorite horse growing up had been so experienced at competition, and she so fresh and nervous, that he’d run the barrel races without any input from her.
They mounted up and headed out into the freezing morning. In the dense fog, the rising sun cast an eerie glow on the ice-tipped greenery surrounding them. Sadly, the mountains were hidden behind layers of mist and clouds.
The first few hundred yards, the trail had been too narrow for them to ride side by side, but it widened now, and they walked through a field, its crunchy grass compressed under the weight of the thick frost. “Do you always ride Western? I saw several English saddles in the tack room,” she asked.
Their legs a few feet away, the proximity to him even warmer than that radiating off Caesar, she tried not to imagine climbing onto Misty with him and stealing some of his body heat. Or burying her nose in that neck and seeing if he smelled as temptingly rugged as he looked.
“Usually. Makes a lot more sense on the trails. But I do enjoy jumping.”
“I’ve always wondered at that. It seems like such an awkward use for a horse, jumping over poles on a prancing mare.”
“Ever been to the UK? Tons of old stone fences. I couldn’t say that’s the reason, but it would be a real short ride if you had to turn around every time you came upon an obstacle.”
“Fair point. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Caesar thinks that’s a bunch of nonsense, don’t you pal?” He reached across and patted Caesar’s neck affectionately. She tried to not wish it were her thigh.
“Do you normally live with your parents?” Not exactly the question a thirty-year-old attorney-slash-brewer wanted to hear from a woman, not even his brother’s girlfriend. She couldn’t help it. He just didn’t fit in with the pretentious extravagance of the home.
He cringed at the question. “Hell no. Sorry, that sounded harsh. No, this is not my first choice of residence. My rental house burned down a few weeks ago. It was crash with my parents or couch surf with friends. While my friends offered their places, they’re all still in the honeymoon phase of their relationships, and I wasn’t looking to be a third wheel.”
“I’m so sorry. Did you lose much?” She quickly amended, “I mean, of course you lost a lot. What did you lose that was important to you?” Foot in mouth, as usual, she pushed more than she should.Way to go, Claire.
At the fork in the trail, he turned onto the less beaten path. “Nothing much. I salvaged some old photo albums, but they smell so terrible, I’m not sure they are ever going to be worth looking at again. Anything valuable was here, anyway. Patricia doesn’t trust me with heirlooms. She’d prefer I get married first and entrust my wife to care for them.” Despite his nonchalance, his tone was gloomy.
Leather creaked under her as the saddle shifted with the sharp incline of the trail. “You don’t sound like you lost nothing important.” She raised an eyebrow at him. Her mouth quirked up in challenge.
With a laugh, he shook his head. “I lost nothing that’s not replaceable. It just shook me is all.”
“I can’t imagine. Sounds awful.”
Like something out of Middle Earth, she felt like she was venturing into an enchanted, dangerous land as the mist grew thicker rather than dissipating with the elevation change. Somehow, she could feel the mountains more than see them, sense the air thinning as she struggled to keep up with her body’s oxygen demand. Although, that might just be her heart racing as she struggled to reign in her imagination. Grady had an excellent seat and maintained an effortless posture that showed off his lean build, even through the heavy coat.
Oh boy, Claire. You’ve been cooped up too long.
“I’d been living with my friend, Asher. It was mostly my stuff in the house, so he was settled within a day with his girlfriend. Actually, fiancée now. Damn, everyone’s getting engaged or married these days. Anyway, the fire wasn’t much of a loss for him. I could have crashed on my couch at the office as my partner suggested, but I don’t want to spend any more time there than I already have to.”
The fog condensed around them until she couldn’t see past Grady. Good thing he’d given her Caesar; she could hardly make out the trail. Caesar seemed confident in their trajectory, almost as comfortable as Grady, both in their natural habitat.
“You don’t like being a lawyer?” The trail narrowed, and Grady was in front of her again. His style on a horse was incredible, totally natural and relaxed, and his silent commands to Misty were impeccable. At her question, his posture stiffened.
“It’s a foolish thing, to go all the way through law school, only to realize you really don’t like it.”
“If you could go back and do it again, what would you do?”
Grady took another small path on the left and stopped in a small clearing. “I have absolutely no idea. I like the brewhouse, but it’s so new, I can’t be sure yet that I can make a career of it. And I can’t let down my clients. There aren’t many legal resources around here. Most of all, I can’t abandon Lincoln.”
“Partner?”
“Yeah. He loves the job.”
Claire pulled up next to him, getting close enough that her leg pressed up against his. Caesar didn’t mind. He leaned in, clearly enjoying a little snuggle time with Misty. “If you can’t quit, what can you do to make it more tolerable?”
He looked over at her, his cheeks pink from the chill wind of the morning, flushed with warmth and life in stark contrast to the January day. “Not attending to my parents’ snooty friends and their little indiscretions, but I don’t hear the end of it when I refuse to take their cases. Only taking on cases that don’t require going to court. I fucking hate standing before a judge. I do that enough at home.”
“I can see that,” Claire muttered, then realized she’d pretty much vocalized her distaste for his mother. “I mean—”
“Nope. Too late. You said it, you can’t take it back.”
