Page 19 of Sunrise & Serenity

Or if we don’t, we should.

“Don’t want to keep you,” I tell him. “Just wanted you to meet Sage. I need to show her around the rest of the place.”

He nods and tips his hat at her, then saunters back to the center of the ring.

I don’t particularly like the way Sage’s smile lingers.

“Let’s keep going,” I growl, leading the way toward the main barn.

“How many McBride brothers and sisters are there, anyway?” she asks.

“Six. Taryn’s the only girl.”

“Wow. I can’t imagine what it’s like having that many siblings running around.”

I glance at her. “How many do you have?”

She shrugs. “It’s just me.”

I digest that in silence. While she can’t imagine what it’s like to be one of six siblings, I can’t imagine not having any. What the hell did she do at home all day when she was growing up?

As we enter the barn, the shade inside is a welcome relief from the already warm sun.

Sage wrinkles her nose. Our barns are fastidiously clean, but there’s no escaping the smell of horses. It’s a scent I’ve lived with all my life, so I barely notice it. She’s probably regretting taking this job already.

Not sure that thought is supposed to cheer me up.

I lead her along the aisle that runs down the middle of the barn. On either side are red-and-white-painted half-doors, each leading to a stall, and most have horse heads poking out over them.

Soft nickers greet us. As usual, the sound relaxes me.

“They’re all so pretty.”

I grimace. “Don’t let Chance hear you call them that.”

At the sound of my voice, a familiar brown head with a wide white blaze appears above a stall door a few strides away. I stop and scratch the crest of her neck. “Hi there, beautiful.”

“Is this your horse?” Sage asks.

“Used to be, before I outgrew her.”

Cozy stretches her head out, pink nose wrinkling.

Sage edges away, her arm brushing mine.

I stop, my hand still up, and examine her. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of horses.”

She freezes, pulling her shoulders back. “Of course not.”

The way she’s eyeing the mare tells me she’s not exactly being honest.

Without stopping to think, I place my hand on her back to steady her the way I would a nervous yearling. Leaning close, I murmur, “Don’t worry, Cozy’s friendly.”

The sweet scent of honeysuckle tickles my senses, and I linger a little longer than I should. When I pull back, Sage takes a shallow breath, and I’m not sure if it’s from nerves or my proximity.

“The closest I came to horses in New York was the police horses and the ones pulling carriages near Central Park.”

A sarcastic comment jumps to the tip of my tongue, but I let it die, my curiosity stronger. “You’ve never been on a horse at all? Patted one?”