Her eyes come to mine as Daisy takes a mouthful of hay, unfazed by all of this. Horses. They’re the best.
Her pink-painted nails poking out from Daisy’s hair, slowly Quinn pushes herself upright, knuckles white as she braces against the horse’s neck. Her smile is twitchy, like a spot in the DVD that skips and replays, but doesn’t replay quite right. “See?” Another nervous smile as she blinks at my daughter. “See, Sadie? I’m on Daisy.”
Sadie claps. “Yay! You did it!”
Quinn exhales, and finally looks down at Daisy, stroking her fingers through her mane for a moment that seems to both calm and steady her.
“Now look out at the horizon, look at the sky,” I tell her, because even the most novice rider will feel that flutter of magic in their belly when they tip their face to the sky while on top of an animal so strong and beautiful.
Slowly, she peers out at the horizon, down the long lines of the pasture where vibrant green grass bleeds into the blue sky. Her mouth parts, and I study her soft profile, the gentle curve of her nose, the swell of her lips, the sparkle in her eyes.
She’s absolutely breathtaking.
I’m not prepared when her eyes come to mine, full of adoration and wonder. I think of Tate’s plan, and the Montgomerys’ threat circles my brain, the way it has every five minutes since I opened that damn letter.
“It’s beautiful. Magical, really,” she says, her voice so soft and melodic that a pang of desire stabs me straight through the chest.
“I knew you’d love it!” Sadie laughs, jumping up and down to celebrate, which easily turns into her beingdistracted, jumping away from the stable as she chases a butterfly.
I reach up, wiggling my fingers at her. “C’mon now, I’ll get you down.”
She nods, and slides to the side as if she knew just what to do. My hands come to her waist, and she sinks against my chest as I pull her down. “You’re a natural up there,” I comment, but my voice turns all gravelly and raw, and she twists in my arms, bringing us nearly nose to nose, pressed up against Daisy.
“You really ride without a saddle?” she asks, her breath hot against my neck and chin, the mint of her chewing gum tickling my nose.
“Bareback,” I say, the word feathering out over her lips as I blink down at them, full and parted. What would they taste like, those full, pouty lips? Would she draw away from me if I kissed her?
“Bareback,” she repeats softly, the word so erotic that I stiffen in my jeans. “I knew that. Iknowthat,” she corrects, her lips lifting on the edge. “I am making a movie about you, after all.”
Dizzy. That’s how I feel with her pressed up against me, after seeing her on one of my horses, seeing the way she easily makes my girl happy, how she makes me feel like a man, not just a struggling father.
“Come for dinner sometime,” I find myself saying again, imagining what it would be like to run my hand beneath that overall strap and tug it free, to run my mouth along that bare collarbone and taste her sweat and determination.
“We will,” she says, referring to herself and Mabel, since that’s what I mentioned at lunch today.
“If it’s easier, since you’re already here, you can just stay.”My heart is beating as fast as it does when I mount a bronc. “Mabel can come another time.”
Her eyes drop to my lips, and she swallows once before saying, “That sounds great.”
And like a schoolgirl, I spend the next five hours on the ranch wondering when she’ll take me up on that offer, hoping it’s tonight.
CHAPTER 11
LOTS OF WHISKEY HELPS
Tate placeshis hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I know it sounds crazy, man, but you gotta reconsider my plan.”
I lift the new foreclosure papers that arrived in the mail today, the one that had me calling my best friend over while I opened a bottle of whiskey. “Your plan doesn't save me from this,” I say, shaking the papers with the big red letters that read NOTICE OF FORECLOSURE.
I haven’t paid what I owe against this house, which totals to nearly fifty thousand dollars. When Amelia was sick, I immediately took out two home equity loans to free up cash to buy our way into medical trials. Just to find out she was dying nearly cost us ten thousand in testing.
I tried to pay it down, but the ranch suffered blow afterblow and though I knew this day was coming, I never expected it. Still, blinking down at the paper that says I’m gonna lose my house and my baby girl is gonna lose her home, I don’t want to believe it.
“No,” Tate says, “it doesn’t. But you will win that rodeo, Landry, okay? You can do it. You will do it, and the film will be a hit. And if you get yourself a wife real quick, you’ll get the Montgomerys off your back, and in a few months, all of this will be behind you. You just gotta trust the process.”
I finish my third glass of whiskey, even though my head was swimmin’ after the second one.
Tate looks at the table, where dishes from dinner are still strewn about. “Who was here?”
