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“Hey there, girl,” Gray murmured, his voice a tender rumble as we approached the mare. His hand reached out, fingers trailing through the thick strands of her mane with an affectionate familiarity that made my chest tighten in an unexpected rush of emotion.
“Is this . . . ?” I started, needing no answer because it was clear: this horse was special.
“Bella Blue,” he confirmed, not taking his eyes off the mare. “She's carrying the future of Red Downs Ranch. But she’s also my favorite. Just don’t tell the others.”
I smiled, watching in silence as Gray's large, work-worn hands moved over Bella Blue's belly with a reverence that spoke volumes. There was a rhythm to his touch, a dance of fingertips and palms that communicated love, reassurance, and protection. It was intimate, watching this gruff man shed his rough exterior to reveal the well of tenderness that lay beneath.
“Can they really . . . I mean, do you think she understands you?” I asked, my voice a whisper in the hush of the stable.
“More than people do, sometimes,” Gray replied without looking up, his attention devoted to the gentle giant before him. “And horses speak a language all their own. You just gotta be willing to listen.”
Bella nuzzled her face against his shoulder, and I almost died from the sweetness.
The sight of this rugged cowboy, who had once seemed so impenetrable to me, now offering such gentle care to his charge, pulled at something deep within me. The connection between them was palpable, a silent conversation flowing through each caress, each measured breath.
“Massage can be real beneficial to mares and foals. Bella here likes it more than most,” he said, smiling at her as she whinnied. “You have to be careful, of course, but it can relieve a lot of the tension and edema that builds up close to foaling.”
“Wow,” I breathed, the word slipping out despite my awe-filled silence.
“Want to try?” Gray offered, finally glancing back at me with a softness around his blue eyes that I hadn't seen before. It was as if the act of sharing this part of his world had peeled away another layer of the walls he'd built around himself.
“May I?” I asked, feeling like I was being granted access to a sacred ritual.
“Of course.” He stepped aside, making room for me next to Bella Blue's vast, round side.
My hand reached out tentatively, the warmth from her body radiating against my palm as I touched her. A shiver of excitement raced through me, igniting a sense of wonder that mirrored the tranquility of the stable around us. In this moment, surrounded by the simple grandeur of Gray's world, I felt an inexplicable bond—not just with the mare, but with the man beside me whose life revolved around these noble beasts.
“Like this?” I asked, my voice barely more than a breath as I mimicked Gray's earlier movements.
“Exactly like that,” he approved, and I thought I caught a hint of pride in his tone. “She likes you.”
Bella Blue exhaled deeply, a gusty sign of contentment that filled my heart with a burst of joy.
Gray straightened up, his large hands resting gently on Bella Blue's flank, and he looked at me with a mixture of pride and something else—a softness that seemed out of place on his rugged features. “She’s been through a lot, this one,” he said, the low timbre of his voice blending with the distant sound of crickets outside the stable.
I leaned against the wooden stall, captivated by the emotion in his eyes as he spoke. “Tell me,” I urged, my interest piqued not just by the story but by the storyteller himself.
He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Bella Blue was one of the first foals born here after I took over the ranch. Almost didn’t make it. Vet thought we should put her down, but I begged him to give her a little more time. Stayed here in the stables with her day and night for almost a week.
But then one day she stood up. She ate on her own and she caught up to the other foals like she’d never been weak. She thrived. Stubborn from day one, like someone else I know,” he teased, his gaze flicking toward me with a playful glint.
I laughed, the sound bouncing off the stable walls. “You mean resilient? He means resilient,” I mock-whispered to Bella.
“Might be,” he replied with a shrug that didn't quite hide his amusement.
I watched him, saw the way his hand lingered on Bella Blue’s mane. “Anyway, she grew into a fine horse—strong, fast, and with a spirit that reminds me every day why I do what I do.” His voice held a reverence that made me see him in a new light.
He went on to talk about the anticipation of the foal, how each birth on the ranch felt like a victory—a continuation of life, of purpose. “It’s tough work, but it's moments like these,” he gestured at the mare, “that make it all worth it.”
The silence that settled between us was comfortable, filled with a shared sense of contentment and anticipation. It was as if we were both quietly acknowledging the delicate threads of connection weaving around us, drawing us closer with each passing moment.
“Ready to head back?” Gray asked after a while, his voice bringing me back to the present.
“In a minute,” I replied, taking one last look at Bella Blue. “I just want to enjoy this—us, here, now.”
He nodded, understanding without needing any further explanation. I rested my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me. And it felt like this moment was a glimpse into the future. A different kind of promise.
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