Page 25 of One Wild Chance

“Morning checklist. Every mare gets assessed each morning—feed, water, and anything flagged by the night farmhand. We record it every day so we all know what’s going on.”

“You know they’ve invented digital devices for that,” he says.

“I know they have. I also know Golden Springs has the worst cell phone and Wi-Fi services around.”

He looks around the barn. “Why haven’t we upgraded things?”

“Oh, we have. Your dad got rid of the outhouses,” I say, grabbing the clipboard and moving toward the first stall.

He follows, keeping his distance. “So what happens now?”

“My job every morning is to walk the mare and foal barns, check each horse, and note anything that needs extra attention. Then I approve the day’s schedule and handle any communication from boarders. When your mom was here, she handled that side, taking calls after hours. Since she’s been gone, it’s fallen to me.”

He tracks the long row of the barn, every mare waiting for me. “You’ve been doing all of this…alone?”

“Someone had to. Horses don’t wait, Jaxon.”

A mare swings her head over the door next to me. “You remember Dolly? Named after the Queen of Country, Dolly Parton herself. She’s been on the farm longer than I have.” I run my hand along her neck. “Hey, Dolly girl.” Then I check her feed bucket and water. “Feed is down, which is good. Water level is fine too. Seems like her usual self.” I note everything on the chart before I move on.

“How am I supposed to know whether she’s acting okay?”

“They each have personalities, kind of like people. Dolly’s friendly, so I always start with her.” I hand him the clipboard so I can fill up the water bucket. “You’ll learn their traits in time.”

Jaxon leans against the door, watching my every move. My hands feel clumsier than usual under his gaze, and I slosh water over the rim, soaking the toe of my boot.

He turns back through the pages and points at one column. “What’s this tracking?”

“Heat cycles.”

“Oh.” He keeps his eyes on the page. “Okay.” He clears his throat and studies the sheet a little too intently, like it might save him from having to say anything else on the subject. “You’ve got a column for each mare’s cycle on paper?”

“Yep,” I confirm. “Earl doesn’t do digital. But I duplicate it on the computer so we have records.”

He gives me the side-eye. “Seems extra to me.”

“It’s the only thing keeping all the farmhands on the same page,” I add. “Plus, I’ve always been extra.”

The corner of his mouth moves. “That I can agree on.”

It’s the first sign he’s enjoying this, and his smile still has the same effect on me—spiking my heart rate. He used to offer that crooked grin to half the girls in school without even trying. Probably still does.

I go over a few more mares with him and catch him staring several times. There’s always been a competitive streak between us, but this time there’s something different underneath that gaze. He can’t compete at something he doesn’t know well. Pride is probably eating him alive right now.

We reach Rosie’s stall near the end of the barn. Jaxon follows me in, and I’m suddenly aware of two people plus a large mare in the same space. I crouch down to check Rosie’s lower legs, and when I stand back up, Jaxon is so close that I nearly step on his foot. I try to sidestep and stumble backward instead. He reaches to catch me, his arm tightening around me before I hit the ground. For a few seconds, we’re closer than either of us planned. My breath lodges in my throat as I look up into those storm-cloud eyes. His body presses warm against me as I breathe in the smell of his soap—same clean scent since high school.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say weakly, taking a step back. His arm falls away. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize you were right there.”

“The geometry gets interesting around these animals,” he says, trying to lighten the mood.

I turn toward the mare because looking at her is easier than staring at Jaxon. I don’t want him to see the way he’s making heat climb my neck.

I clear my throat slightly. “Rosie’s been having a few health problems. She needs a little more time than the others.” I make a note on the chart, avoiding his stare. “Which is why I need you to take over and learn some things as soon as you can.”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?”

Of course that’s why he’s staring. He is paying attention to the work, not to me.