“I’ll bring it upstairs once we’re finished. But if you don’t get going now, you’ll have to bring it upstairs yourself.”
She gives me a curt nod. “All right. Lead the way.” Her gaze shifts to the closet, and I recognize that look.
“Not a chance, Princess.” I nod toward the bedroom door. “You lead the way.” Because the moment my back is turned, she’ll be in that closet, searching for something else to wear.
At least the jeans aren’t too bad on her. They’re baggier than what she’s probably used to—and not exactly flattering for her body. But the horses and the horse shit aren’t going to give a damn, and that’s all that matters.
“I don’t have anything to wear on my feet…other than these.” She holds up a pair of dingy white athletic socks.
“I’m sure we’ll find you something downstairs.”
Several minutes later, we’re walking along the path toward the stable. Kate has on a pair of rubber boots that are too big for her, but they were the only things she would agree to wear.
And by agree, I mean the look of disgust was marginally less than the one Charlotte’s cowboy boots resulted in.
“We’ll start with the stable first,” I tell Kate.
She groans. Loudly.
I laugh. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
“Oh, I have no intention of getting used to it. I’m just here for a week or two to pack up Charlotte’s things. Then I’m putting the house on the market and selling the horses.”
A week or two? She has enough luggage to last her a few months.
“Which means I need to get to work on finding new owners for the horses and hiring someone to look after them until I do,” she says.
I have nothing to say about that—because hell if I’m helping her there—so I keep quiet.
Inside the stable, I grab the wheelbarrow, pitchfork, broom, shovel, and wheel them over to Lady’s stall.
“The horses are already outside,” I explain, “but normally you’ll need to release them into the pasture for the day before you clean the stable, then bring them in for the night. That’s the routine they were used to with Charlotte.”
Kate stares at me as if I’ve just spoken in Russian. “Bring them in? Do you mean you just open the pasture gate and they return to the stable?”
“Not exactly. You’ll have to put a halter on them to lead them in.”
Her expression is a tug-o-war of horror and confusion, with horror on the winning side.
“And how exactly do I do that?”
Christ, this is going to be harder than I was expecting.
5
Kate
The next morning,I’m awoken by two sounds I’d rather not hear. Especially not at…
I push up the fuzzy white sleep mask covering my eyes and pick up my phone. Six a.m.
Rain hammers the bedroom window and my phone is playing “Good Morning.”
Except I’ve never programmed it to play that song.
I check who’s calling, groan, and accept the call.
“Good morning, Princess.” Noah’s voice is too cheerful for this time of day, and I mentally curse him.
