I was tempted to give him the saluting emoji, my go-to emoji when he gave me a task, even if that task was to not do anything at all. Instead, I simply replied.
Me
I’m fine. Talk later, ok. Thanks, Cash.
Cash
*Saluting Emoji* Sleep well, Quinn.
I gave the screen a soft smile. Even if Cash couldn’t see it, I hoped he knew it was there. Locking it, I tossed it to the other side of the couch, curling back up with my tea. The phone vibrated again a few minutes later, lighting up. I looked at it and heaved a sigh when I saw whose calling.Mom.
I let it go to voicemail.
Despite what Cash ordered, I headed to the stables the following afternoon. I had slept semi-decently—albeit on the couch—but woke with the determination to shove the bad weekend behind me. The only way to do that was to move forward. But before I dug into the logistics of it all, I went to where my heart would be happy, where—following Cash’s orders—I could recharge. And that was with my boys.
The stables were quiet when I arrived, with only a few ranch hands and Cash prepping the arena for a client. With him distracted, I went straight to Hook and Charming. Charming was pulling fresh hay from the bag, and Hook was standing with his head down, his tail flicking back and forth. Opening the tack, I grabbed a few finishing brushes, planning to make both my boys shine, starting with Hook.
“Hey, mister,” I cooed, stepping inside his stall, only to come in contact with a pair of legs. I tripped forward, surprisingly catching my balance before I ran headfirst into my horse’s stomach, losing my grip on the brushes. I placed my hand on Hook’s coat and looked at the source of my fall. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Hiding,” Wyatt answered. He was sitting on the floor of Hook’s stall, his back up against the wood wall, his legs outstretched in front of him, ankles crossed. His baseball hat was backwards, and a large mud stain was splashed across his chest.
“Hiding?” I parroted. “In my horse's stall?”
“I just finished cleaning it.” He gestured to the pitchfork leaning up against him. “I figured I’d take a quick break before moving on to the next.”
I bent, grabbing the brushes I had dropped, before shooting him another glare.
“And the best place for a break ismyhorse’s stall? To hide?”
“It’s quiet in here,” was his response.
I huffed. He was soaking up the exact thing I wanted. I blinked at him before turning back to Hook, raising the brush to his coat. He raised his head and nudged me with his nose, a sweet hello.
“Are you just going to sit there while I brush him?” I asked, my back to Wyatt.
He inhaled. “Can I?”
I spun, meeting his gaze, his baby blue eyes fixed on me. He didn’t even blink; he just stared at me, holding me down with his sincere question.
“You just want to sit there?”
He gave me a crooked smile. “Yeah.”
I took a deep breath, still holding eye contact, deciding it wasn’t worth the fight or annoyance. “I guess that’s ok.”
“Thanks,” he said, twisting his hat forward to lean his head on the wall with a thump. “How was it this weekend? Hook looked ragged; you must have really worked him. How did you do?”
I paused, not sure how I wanted to answer. I still had so many things to go over to figure out what I did wrong, so many logistics to comb through. I could ask Cash. Even though he had stopped coming with me, he booked and planned all the things last year. I simply showed up. Maybe that was my first mistake—thinking I could actually do it.
Nope.I told myself.You can do this.
“Couldn’t have been better.” I finally answered, settling on the vague answer.
I walked to Hook’s shoulder, catching Wyatt nodding from the corner of my eye.
“You seemed upset last night.” His voice slowed, almost as if he were choosing his words wisely.
I heaved a sigh. “It was just a hard weekend. Next week will be better.”
