She reins him in with a whisper and swings down easy, landing light in the dirt. Doesn’t even glance at me before her eyes sweep over to Hudson, still glued to Lark’s side.
Her tone is light. “Well, well, well. What’d I miss?”
But then she sees him.
Her face softens, the teasing gone. “You must be Hudson.”
He nods, a little wary.
“I’m Wren,” she says. “Boone’s cooler sister.”
Hudson squints. “I thought he had another one?”
Wren leans in like she’s letting him in on a secret. “Yeah. Sage thinks she’s cooler. She’s wrong.”
That earns her a laugh. Small, but real.
“Hope that little tumble didn’t scare you off horses,” she says.
Hudson shrugs, half-hiding behind Lark.
Wren tips her chin toward Ringo. “This guy? Steady as they come. He’s the one we let the little kids ride when the schools visit. Never even flinches.”
Hudson eyes the horse, then Lark, then reaches out—fingers tentative—running his hand along Ringo’s nose.
Wren doesn’t miss a beat. “Wanna ride him back?”
Hudson tilts his head. “What about Mom and Boone?”
She jerks her chin toward Springsteen. “They’ll ride together.”
Fuck.
There it is.
I shoot her a warning look. “Wren.”
She ignores me completely, crouching beside Hudson like I’m not even there. “Come on, kid. I’ll help you up.”
Like hell Lark is going to want to share one horse back to the ranch. I already know how this is going to go. She’s going to tense up, avoid eye contact, mutter something about making this as painless as possible. And then I’ll have to spend the whole ride back pretending like I don’t notice how her body feels pressed against mine.
I rub a hand down my face. I knew Wren wasn’t going to make this fucking easy.
Hudson’s already getting into the saddle with her help, grinning as he settles onto Ringo’s back. I open my mouth to argue again, but Wren turns, her smirk smug as ever. “Boone, I’m not going to turn down the opportunity to get to know my nephew.”
My jaw ticks.
She swings herself up behind Hudson and, just before taking the reins, she throws one last parting shot. “Lord knows I’ve already been denied the privilege long enough.”
Lark swallows, but to her credit, she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t tear her gaze away from Wren’s first.
I exhale sharply through my nose, starting to say, “Wren, that’s not—”
But she cuts me off again, adjusting Hudson’s grip on the reins like she didn’t just drop a live grenade in the middle of all of us. “Alright, bud, you ready? Ringo’s gonna make you look like a real pro.”
Lark steps up to Hudson, smoothing his shirt like she needs to make sure he’s okay before letting him go. “Me and Boone will be right behind you,” she says. “Then we’ll go eat dinner.”
Hudson nods, but it’s Wren who snorts. “Kid, you have no idea what you’re in for. You’re never gonna be the same after you taste your Grandma’s cooking.”
