My heart thunders, blood pounding in my ears as I slowly approach the corral fencing until I’m beside the ranch manager.
He side-eyes me, tipping the brim of his cream cowboy hat with a grin. “Mornin’ ma’am.”
I can feel my cheeks heat slightly as I correct him. “I’m almost sure we’ve had this conversation at least a half dozen times over the years, Sully. Please…call me Emmy.”
We exchange a smile before he nods and reverts his gaze to Ford, whose horse attempts to buck him off, but to no avail.
“Sidewinder here is a rescue horse, but she has such an aversion to touch that no one’s been able to even saddle her up before today.” He glances back at me with a smug look on his face. “Took Ford less’n ten minutes.”
Then he jerks his head in the direction of Fallon’s corral. “Hence the glare of death comin’ from over yonder.”
We share a chuckle, both of us intent on the performance before us. Sidewinder has lost some of her steam, only giving half-hearted attempts to throw her rider.
Ford’s face is filled with joy, a light shining from those beautiful blue eyes I’ve only seen when he looks at me. His lips are moving as he speaks calmly and quietly to his mount, and I watch on, entranced by the beautiful display before us.
My chest fills with emotion as I watch my cowboy in his element, a place he’s denied himself because of his father’s actions, and I can’t help but grit my teeth in frustration at the thought of the man who has stolen so much from so many people.
As I ponder the exploits of Jasper Holloway, Ford trots closer on Sidewinder, shooting me a grin before he slides out of the saddle and tosses the reins to a smirking Sully. He catches them and tips his hat to me as Ford ducks out of the corral.
Before he leaves, he pats Ford on the shoulder, nodding with a smile. “You certainly never lost your touch.”
Ford chuckles, slipping his gloves off and jamming them in his back pocket. “I had a good teacher.”
Before Sully can respond, Fallon’s voice cracks like a whip from her corral, and we all pivot to watch her glower.
“If you’re quite finished indulging ourguest of honor, you’ll recall we have a busy day ahead, Luke Sullivan.”
When Sully regards her unblinkingly, she folds her arms over her chest and pops a dark brow. “That translates to move your ass, old man.”
Sully surprises me and makes Ford guffaw loudly when he drops into a courtesy, lifting his hat from his head to salute his employer. “I beg your pardon, my queen.”
I can just about see steam coming from Fallon’s ears as she spins on her heel, returning to the grey with a loud, exasperated huff, and as Sully moves off to join her, I hear him murmur forme and Ford only, “You’d swear I was decrepit, the way she tells it. I only just turned thirty-eight, for Pete’s sake.”
FORD
I’ve just finished lunch with Momma, Emmy, and Fin when Faith pops her head around the door of the kitchen. Her doe eyes find mine immediately, and she jerks her head toward the porch.
“Can we talk, Fordy?”
My nod is sharp, and I press a kiss to Emmy’s forehead before moving to follow my little pest of a sister as Momma’s voice calls after us. “Try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum, you two.”
Faith has the good graces to blush as she steps onto the porch ahead of me, and I gesture to the swing where we both take a seat, albeit farther apart than we’d usually sit.
“I’m sorry.”
I raise my eyebrows, only blinking as I wait for her to elaborate, but when it’s not forthcoming, I murmur, “And?”
She swallows roughly before glancing around the porch as though to ensure our privacy. And when she speaks, her voice is a low whisper. “It’s Lissie. She needs your help. She listens to you.”
My brows are drawn as I shake my head. “Rewind there, Pest. First, your apology, and then we’ll address your skewed reasoning, okay?”
Faith closes her eyes and blows out a breath before opening them again. “I apologize that I tricked you into coming home. In my defense, I truly didn’t think it would work?—”
“You thought I wouldn’t come back here if Momma was hurt? Are you kiddin’ me?—”
She waves her hands as she shakes her head. “No, no, I meant I spoke without thinking.” Then she murmurs to herself with a frown. “I seem to have a habit of not engaging my brain before I open my mouth.”
I snort a laugh, nodding my agreement, before gesturing that she should continue.
