“That’s why you’re in the round pen and not out there.” A long arm flashed in front of her. She turned to face him.
Chase stood a couple of feet away. The quick, assessing look swept over her. “Another memory?”
How did he know? “Maybe.” She shook her head. “It’s frustrating. I get a few seconds. Just a flash.” She made a ‘poof’ gesture with her fingers. “Anyway. Back to the question. Favorite memory?”
He returned to the stack of hay and continued moving it around. “First memory I have of riding a horse, I was with mydad. He gave me one of the old cow horses and took me out on the ranch to show me the cows.” He straightened, put his hands in the small of his back, and arched his spine. “That’s when I knew I’d never leave the ranch.”
How did it feel to be so certain about your life?
Chapter Seven
He’d been careful not to mention his and Michelle’s past yesterday in the barn, how they intertwined to the point he’d thought he knew everything about her. Losing her to her career had proved he barely knew her at all. And seeing her again all these years later hammered the fact home. She’d changed, which was normal. Everyone changed as life sped past. They all made mistakes, decided whether to learn from them, and moved on.
It was the same for him. All his mistakes prickled around his heart like tiny little fence posts that hemmed him in. He’d done his best to learn from them and wasn’t keen on repeating a single one.
“What are we doing today?” Michelle slapped her gloved hands together and grinned when a rush of hay dust spiraled through the air.
He shook himself from his thoughts and showed her the list he’d scratched out on a piece of paper. “I need to go to town. Want to ride along?”
She drew her lips to one side and tapped her gloved finger against her cheek. “Let’s see. Stay here and offer free manuallabor or go to town and pester you until you stop at the ice cream shop? Such a tough decision.”
“You had me at ice cream.” He stuffed the list into his back pocket and grabbed his keys. “Supplies first.”
“How many stops?” Her steps were quick behind him, and she finally drew even, then passed him and hopped into the passenger seat. She smirked and patted the side of the door. “I’m all for chivalry, but ice cream trumps having my door opened for me. Hurry up, cowboy.”
If she had any idea how her words affected him, she didn’t show it. Of course she didn’t know. She used to use that tone, calling him cowboy, when she flirted. It meant something different now…right?
He examined her after making his way into the truck and getting them on the main road. She sat in a kind of quiet contemplation, her gaze skipping to the land around them. Her toes patted the floorboard in time with the music on the radio, and every now and then, he caught the slight hum under her breath. The relaxed posture eased his own tense grip on the steering wheel.
Even without her memory, pieces of her were the same. Her ability to ride along and not press for conversation to fill the quiet offered a tentative measure of peace. He’d expected her to have questions, especially after their time in the barn yesterday, and he’d been afraid to give her too much information. How much would overwhelm her? Did he have the right to tell her what he knew? His memories of her—of them—were perilous. His emotions had been invested in those memories.
“If you could go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?” The question seemed to burst out of her as he parked in front of the feed and tack store and pocketed his keys.
“How far back can I go?” He left the truck, trying to round the hood fast enough to open her door.
She beat him to it again, grinning the whole time.
“You’re making me look bad.” He pretended to scowl and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You can put money on Mr. Wilson giving me what for.”
“Why?” Michelle rose on her tiptoes and peeked over his shoulder. “It’s not like you didn’t try.”
He mimicked the man’s deep rumble. “It’s not about the trying, young lady.”
She stuttered out a laugh, shaking her head and opening the green door.
The smell of leather and animal feed created a unique mix he’d recognize anywhere.
Michelle wrinkled her nose, but then she walked over to a barrel full of corn and plunged both hands into the golden kernels with a squeal of delight. All the worry fell away, and in that moment, he saw the girl he’d fallen head over boots for. “It’s cold. Why does that feel so good?” She leaned deeper and sank her arms up to her elbows. “I could stay here all day.”
Deep laughter boomed out from behind the counter. Jasper Wilson guffawed with the rich warmth that made him a favorite among the townsfolk. “I know a girl who used to say that every time she walked in.”
“Really?” Michelle straightened but kept her hands in the barrel. She swirled the kernels around with her hands, cupped handfuls and let them fall back with tinkling sounds like falling stars. “Who?”
“You,” Jasper answered before Chase could stop him.
Michelle stepped away from the barrel and rushed to the counter. “I did? When? How old was I?”
Jasper scratched the back of his neck beneath his tan Stetson. “Well, now I don’t rightly remember the year.” He eyed Chase and seemed to read the pleading in his eyes that the older man not reveal that Chase was the person who first brought herhere. “In fact, you’re the reason I keep that barrel out. You used to beg and plead for me to cut open a bag of corn. It got to the point it was easier to do it this way.”
