Page 80 of Sunrise & Serenity

Stomach knotted tight, I nod.

For a beat, his expression softens. “That’s my girl.”

The words hit a place inside me they absolutely shouldn’t, but there’s no time to examine why, because Holden’s turning away and urging Whiskey forward.

I barely have to do anything to get Cozy moving too. She surges forward into a lope before I’m even remotely ready for it, the motion bigger and much faster than I’m used to.

I hold on to Holden’s words and will myself not to stiffen up. Easier said than done with rain lashing across the pasture and the wind tearing at my shirt, stinging my exposed skin.

But as he promised, the pace is easier to adjust to than a bouncy trot. Still, when Cozy tosses her head, I grip the saddle horn instinctively.

Even though I’m sure Holden can go faster if he wants to, he never gets too far ahead, glancing over his shoulder now and then to check on me.

Rainwater runs cold down the back of my neck, and my braid has come loose, wet strands plastering themselves to my cheeks. Behind us, thunder crashes so loudly it makes my ears ring. Cozy stumbles, then catches herself so quickly I barely have time to process it. When I look up again, Holden is beside me. “We’re almost there.”

I peer through the rain ahead, but don’t see the ranch. “Where?” I force out through gritted teeth, hoping he can hear me.

“Not the ranch. Ground’s getting too slick too fast. I won’t risk you going down.”

He turns Whiskey toward a cluster of trees I can barely make out, and with zero instruction from me, Cozy follows. Thank god, because with every minute the rain comes down harder and visibility shrinks.

Holden stays close as we weave through rougher ground, riding just far enough ahead to provide guidance.

Doing my best to blink rain from my eyes, I focus on the trees and the dark shape emerging in front of them. As we get closer, the building becomes a bit clearer. It’s longer than it is tall, its wooden façade darkened to almost black by the rain.

A barn, maybe?

It’s weathered, but compared to the open pasture around us, it looks impossibly solid. Relief at the thought of shelter hits me so suddenly it almost makes me dizzy.

Holden stops in front of the barn and jumps off Whiskey. As Cozy comes to a halt next to him, I kick my feet out of the stirrups, but I’m shivering, my fingers stiff and reluctant to release their grip.

Holden’s by my side again. “I’ve got you.”

I manage to swing my right leg over the saddle. Then his arms are around me, helping me slide down to solid ground. On instinct, I turn and press myself against the solid bulk of his body, unsure whether the drumming sound in my ears is the blood rushing through my veins or the hard beat of his heart.

“You need to get inside,” he tells me. “I’ll take the horses.”

With a nod, I make a beeline for the entrance. Holden follows behind me, leading Cozy and Whiskey, whose ribs are heaving after running for so long. The barn smells of wet wood, straw, and dust, and the constant roar of the wind and rain eases.

A few feet inside, I stop and wrap my arms around myself, blinking the water from my eyes while Holden pulls the heavy door shut behind us.

It’s dark, though a few windows on either side of the building let in enough murky light for me to make out the interior. Small stalls line one wall, while the back is lined with uneven stacks of straw bales, dented buckets, and feed tins. What looks like horse blankets hang from a few hooks along the back, faded but dry. At first, I thought this place was abandoned, but it’s well-kept and relatively clean.

The horses settle for the most part, though their ears flick with anxiety every time thunder rattles the walls.

Holden moves automatically, loosening Whiskey’s cinch and pulling his saddle off. Shaking off my inertia, I go to Cozy so I can do the same for her.

She’s as saturated as I am. I stroke her wet neck, hot from exertion, and murmur to her as I strip off her tack, thanking her for working so hard to get us to safety.

When I turn in search of a place to set her saddle, I catch Holden watching me. The intensity of his stare sends warmth seeping beneath my chilled skin.

I try to smile, but my lips quiver instead. “I guess I’m bad luck when it comes to storms.”

With a shake of his head, he closes the gap between us and takes Cozy’s saddle from me. “Not your fault,” he says as he hangs it over a stall door. “I knew bad weather was coming. I shouldn’t have brought you out with me.”

Guilt sits heavy in my stomach. “Would you have made it back to the ranch if I weren’t with you?”

“Maybe. Then again, I might not have gotten the heifer free as easily if you hadn’t been there. Would’ve had a harder time patching the fence without your help too. I shouldn’t have brought you out, but that doesn’t mean I regret it.”