Page 56 of One Wild Chance

I send Jaxon a text that says, I’m sorry, couldn’t get back. I’ll be there early tomorrow.

He sends back a single thumbs-up emoji.

I fall asleep at my kitchen table with the proposal open in front of me on the computer.

When I push open the barn door the next morning, I’m already panicking at how I’ll get everything done in time.

I flip on the lights and stop in my tracks. String lights circle the rafters, glowing softly. The floor is swept clean, the windows sparkling, all the lumber gone. Even the groundhog hole has been patched. All of it cleared out, leaving a wide-open space of possibility.

It looks just like the wedding barn of my dreams.

In the center of the barn is a table with a mason jar filled with a small bouquet of wildflowers. The same flowers I was cutting when the storm came through.

Chapter 16

Jaxon

“Heads up!” Wyatt calls as a baseball sails over me. Grady catches it barehanded.

Wyatt and Grady are tossing the ball back and forth in the center aisle of the stallion barn—blind catches to see who can outdo the other, the same stupid games they’ve been playing since we were boys.

“Guys,” I warn, giving them both a look. “The last thing I need is one of you hitting a stallion.”

“I’m not going to hit a stallion,” Wyatt assures me. “Not even a remote possibility.”

“Even professional athletes have bad days,” I mutter.

“We’ve got slightly better aim than you do,” Grady replies.

“We only have three stallions,” I say, pressing the issue. “If you hurt our most valuable one, there goes our stud fee.”

“We all know who the real stud in this room is,” Rhett says with a smirk.

“Speak for yourself,” Wyatt replies, then lobs the baseball directly at Rhett.

Rhett snags it without even flinching, then tosses it to Grady.

I start slow clapping. “Impressive.”

Rhett runs a hand through his hair. “Thank you.”

“That comment was for me,” Wyatt says.

Watching the three of them, it occurs to me that nothing has changed since we were kids. Wyatt’s enjoying trash-talking Rhett, Grady’s keeping score in his head, while Rhett leans against a stall like he’s posing for a social media shoot. I’m the one left trying to wrangle them into order.

“Guys,” I say. “Can you listen?”

“We’re listening,” Grady says.

“Which barn did we just come from?” I ask.

Wyatt frowns. “Boarding barn?”

“Broodmare,” I correct him.

Wyatt snaps his fingers. “I knew it started with a B.”

Rhett snorts while Grady shakes his head. I’m ready to chase them all out of the barn with a pitchfork.