“I bet she’d be proud of you, too.” He reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze. “You’re an amazing woman, Kacey Hart.”
I have to swallow the lump in my throat. Having Knox truly listen and say those words means more to me than he knows. I can tell he’s trying to get to know me on a deeper level. I don’t think I’ve ever had a man care enough to even ask about my mom.
“I can’t relate with the pleasant Ferris wheel memory, I must admit. My sister and I got stuck on one when we were little. She cried, which made me laugh, but my dad whooped my butt when we got down for laughing at her instead of comforting her.”
I try to smother my laugh but fail miserably. “Your poor sister. She’s probably scarred for life.”
“Oh, for sure. She hasn’t been on a Ferris wheel since,” he confirms as he shifts in his saddle and looks up at the sky. “It’s clouding over fast, and the wind feels like it’s picking up, too. Think we should turn back?”
I glance up and sure enough, it’s going to rain. Our perfect spring day is gone in minutes—typical mountain weather. “Yeah, we better. You never know how bad it will rain up here.”
As we turn our horses around to head back to the barn, I ask, “Alright, so what’s question number two?”
His eyes study me for a heartbeat, like he’s second-guessing the question on the tip of his tongue. “What’s your biggest fear?”
Damn, he isn’t holding back on these questions.
“Losing someone else I love. No one is guaranteed tomorrow. We never know how much time we get with someone. I think everyone has a little bit of that fear in them.”
“I’ve never lost someone in the same sense you have, but I agree. Before my dad left, we used to be close. He taught me to shoe horses and even built my first practice barrel. I was seventeen when he left—or maybe ‘disappeared’ is a better word—and it left a hole for a long time. Our relationship has never been the same.”
“I’m sorry. No parent should disappear on their child. No matter how old they are.”
It’s lightly raining on us now, and we pick up our pace. We kick the horses into a trot, and the closer we get, the harder it starts to rain. Half a mile from the barn, Knox looks over at me, grinning before kicking his horse into a dead run.
Always up for a race, Hooch follows his lead. I ride up next to him and he’s laughing as he drops his reins to hold his arms out, looking up into the rain. I can’t help but laugh at him.
What does he think this is? TheTitanic?
We slow as we approach the barn, ride inside, and untack the horses. It’s not cold, but when you’re soaked to the bone, it gets a little chilly. I throw my saddle on the rack.
“Come on, let’s put the horses away and go to my house to dry off. I’m freezing.”
As soon as the horses are put away, Knox grabs my hand, and we sprint through the pouring rain to my house. I realize as I open the door that he’s never been inside my house. I’m immediately glad I cleaned this morning.
The old ranch house has a surprisingly open floor plan. When you walk in the front door, you’re just to the left of the living room and you can see the kitchen behind it. There is a stone fireplace my great grandpa built by hand with stones off the ranch, and my couch sits in front of it. I rarely use the upstairs loft, and my bedroom is down the hall.
“Come on in, I’ll grab some towels.” I toe off my boots and head for the bathroom, leaving a trail of water the whole way.
When I get back to the living room, he’s right where I left him on the entryway tile. I hand Knox a towel and he starts to dry his hair. His jeans are soaked and water drips from the hem ofhis t-shirt that clings to his chest, showing every cut of muscle underneath.
“I’m going to go change really quick. Do you want to dry your clothes? I think I have some sweats that will fit you while they dry.” I don’t think I have a shirt that will fit, but that’s okay. I have no issues with him going shirtless for the afternoon.
“Yeah, that would be great.” He strips off his shirt.
Yep, I have no issues with this at all.
I head into my bedroom and throw on some joggers and a sweatshirt. After digging around for a minute, I find the sweatpants I think will fit him. They’re old gray joggers from my trips to Estes with Jessie, oversized on me, but they should fit him.
I head out to the living room and give him the sweats. “The bathroom is down the hall on the right. I’m going to make some coffee to warm up. Do you want any?”
“Sure, that sounds good. Do you want me to start a fire after I get changed?”
I glance over at the fireplace to make sure I have dry wood inside. “That would be great.”
After the fire is started, we both settle on the couch as we sip on our coffees. I grab my blanket and cover up while saying, “You have one more. What’s your third question?”
He yanks the blanket mostly off my lap to cover up with it.
