Ellie’s grin grew as she shook her head. “I swore she was going to be mine. Everyone thought I was insane.”
“They did. But you ended up being right. You made her yours. First horse you ever trained from start to finish.”
I remembered all of it. The hours Ellie spent out here, covered in dirt, sweat soaking through the back of her shirt, never giving up. Watching her work was like watching someone bend magic with their bare hands. She had a patience and determination I’d never seen in anyone before, and a quiet sort of power that could calm even the wildest animal.
“I know,” she said, her voice dipping lower. “But this feels… different. Itallfeels so damn different.”
She didn’t look at me when she said it, and I had the strange feeling she wasn’t just talking about the horse.
She was talking about this place—her place here in Faircloud.
I wanted to ease the weight I saw in her shoulders, but the truth was, I didn’t know how. And the worst part? When Ellie hurt, I hurt too. I felt it in my bones.
“How can I help?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
“I need to eat,” Ellie said, brushing dust from her jeans. “Let’s just call it a night. Will you come in and eat with us?”
There wasn’t a universe where I’d say no to her. Not now. Not ever.
Didn’t matter if I wasn’t hungry. Didn’t matter that I was supposed to meet Mac and Rhodes for beers at The Tequila Cowboy.If Ellie Cassidy asked, I showed up. No hesitation.
“Sure thing, Ace.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket just as she smiled and led the horse toward the barn.
I walked behind her and shot off a quick text to the group chat:
Me: Rain check on the beers.
Rhodes: All right, man. If you change your mind, you know where to find us.
Mac: Bummer.
Boone: You guys are going for beers?
Mac: Don’t you remember when you said “I’m trying to watch my figure”?
Boone: That was last-week me. This-week me feels different. I’ll be there.
By the time Ellie exited the barn, I locked my phone and put it back in my pocket. I stood waiting, and when she caught up, we fell into step along the well-worn dirt path leading to the main house.
“Did you think of a name for her yet?” I asked, glancing over.
“Oh, absolutely,” she said, brightening. She picked up her pace until she was a few steps ahead of me, then spun around and started walking backward, her face lit with mischief.
“Hear me out.” She held up three fingers. “First contender: Dottie.” She dropped her ring finger. “Second: Sassafras.” Another finger down, this time her pointer. Which left one.
Her middle.
She grinned as she held it up proudly. “And finally, Whinny Houston.”
I blinked, laughing. “Whinny Houston? You serious?”
“Mm-hmm.” She turned back around, a smug little bounce in her step. “Penny helped with that one. I thought for sure it had to be a top contender.”
“Of course she did.”
My gaze dipped to her figure—the way her jeans hugged her hips, how her boots kicked up the dust, that messy hair spilling down her back. Ellie was wild and free, just like any of the horses she tamed.