The song is done.
I head back to my UTV when Bree falls into step beside me on the path. She doesn’t say good morning or ask how I slept, which is unlike her. She just walks with me for a few seconds, looking straight ahead until my own manners kick in.
“Morning.”
“Morning.”
She eventually stops between two glamping tents, her long brown ponytail dangling from underneath a ball cap. She looks up at me, her forehead creased. “So, you had fun with Mallory last night?”
I don’t respond because kissing and telling isn’t my thing.
“She still doesn’t know who you really are, does she?”
And there it is. The universe holding up a big ole’ mirror to the guilt already cementing itself inside my veins. I bite the side of my cheek and stare at the distant hills.
“We’re leaving tomorrow morning, Walker.”
I look down at my colleague with a heavy sigh. “I know.”
“You’re a good guy, Walker James. And I know me and Izzy being here isn’t something you planned on—“
“Stop it, Bree. It’s not your fault that I stopped thinking with sense.”
“We’re going on one last trail ride this morning, then swimming later. But I’m telling her after dinner if she doesn’t already know before then.”
She peels off toward the cabins without another word, and I stand there in the middle of the path and let that land fully. She’s not warning me. She’s giving me a chance to come clean, but that terrifies me. Because I realize that I want a chance at something real with Mallory, even though she still thinks my name is Cameron Walker from Oklahoma.
I text Lucinda to let her know that I want to help out at the stables, then head that direction.
Mallory and her girls walk up early, while I help Carson saddle up the last horse.
“Morning’ ladies.” He tips his cowboy hat. “You’re first, so you get your pick of horses today. Same as last time?” I grab snacks and hand them to the group, following Mallory over to Cinnamon.
“Hey there, Prickly Pear.”
“Hey, Cowboy.”
Mallory’s black hair is in braids again, loose this time, a straw cowboy hat on her head.
“Love the hat.”
“It’s the gift shop special.” She grins, and I notice that Kate has a matching one in dark brown.
“It looks good on you.”
My eyes skim her body, a tight black tee underneath a camo zip hoodie, a pair of girlie Doc Martens biker boots that are about as western as she’s going to get, I suspect. The brown leather and etched flowers soften the look, and I love that Mallory kept her style even when shopping for dude ranch gear.
“I had fun last night.” I skim my thumb over her hand for just a second, wishing I could do more.
“Aaron, no!” A woman’s sharp tone cuts through the stillness as a teen boy approaches.
It’s the same boy from the cuddle barn, who runs right over to me and Mallory. “Um, hi.”
Oh, shit.
“Hi there.” My voice is steady although my insides are horse muck.
“You’re Walker James, right?” He’s looking at my forearm, where I forgot to put on my ink cover-up.
