Page 18 of Ella and the Enchanted Bookshop

I studied him for a moment. Was I annoyed that he hadn’t mentioned his years of professional riding? I should be. But the more I realized what he’d done–paid my stepmother a ridiculous sum of money under a false name and false pretenses–just to spend time with me because he knew I was married to my job?

I couldn’t be mad. Not even a little.

“Actually.” I squinted up at the sky. “We have an hour and a half left because we’re still technically in Ron’s time slot.” I took a deep breath. “What if I saddled up my horse, and we did a trail ride instead?”

I’d always thought Asher was handsome. But as he broke into the biggest grin I’d seen on him yet, I decided he was far too good looking for his own good. And mine as well.

“So,” I said about twenty minutes later as we made our way up the trail just behind the house. “You’re a professional rider. Do you have any more surprises you’d like to share?”

“Correction. I was a professional rider. The military doesn’t leave much time for gallivanting about the country with my horse and trailer,” he said as we made our way along the mountain path beneath the lodgepole pines. It was only mid-September, but in the shade, the air felt and smelled like Christmas already. “As for surprises, I do have one more.” He laughed a little. “Tomcat is my horse. I’m the one who signed him up for boarding.”

I let out a laugh. “Well, I guess that checks out.” I’d been somewhat in awe of how much Tomcat had wanted to reach Asher when we were in the barn.

“What about you?” Asher asked, ducking slightly to avoid being hit in the face by a low branch. “Do you have anything I should know about? Bad habits? Membership in any illegal gangs? I like to vet my friends before promoting them to Premier status.”

I laughed. “Well, Casey says I read too much in my time off, and the last gang I was involved in was the Girls’ Club in fourth grade. We barricaded off the drinking fountain from the Boys’ Club once after they sprayed us with a hose.” I sighed. “Our teacher broke the clubs up, but it took me years of rehabilitation before I recovered from the experience.” I looked over my shoulder. “What about you? Any illegal horse betting rings you’re a part of?”

“That would be a no.” He chuckled, but there was a sad sound to it. “My dad never let me out of his sight after Mom died. I couldn’t have joined an illegal club if I’d tried.”

“How old were you? When your mom died, I mean?” I asked. As soon as I asked the question, I wondered if I shouldn’t have. He might not want to talk about his mother’s death with a girl he barely knew.

But he answered as steadily as ever. “Eight. She had a rare kind of autoimmune disease.” Then, for the first time, his shoulders sagged, and I had to remind myself to look forward to guide my horse. Fortunately, she’d been on this path countless times and knew where to turn when.

“My dad took it really hard. He pulled me out of school and hired a personal homeschooling instructor who was willing to follow us all around as we traveled for his work, and then for tournaments as I got older.”

“I’m sorry,” I called softly. “You were so young.”

He nodded. “I was. But I’m grateful for my dad. He did everything he could to hold us together.” He paused. “Tell me if I’m prying too much, but how far apart did you lose your parents?”

I shook my head. “I don’t mind at all. When I was twelve, my mom got cancer, and it spread fast. Then my dad met Casey when I was fifteen, and he married her when I was sixteen. But he died just a year after, when he had a heart attack.” I didn’t say it out loud, but I was also rather sure that his heart attack had stemmed at least somewhat from a broken heart.

Asher didn’t speak for a few minutes. His silence amplified the quiet rustling of the breeze through the trees and the birds above us and the sound the horses’ hooves made on the packed dirt of the trail.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he finally said slowly, “why did he marry Casey? Not to offend, but… she doesn’t strike me as the warm, motherly type.”

I snorted. “She’s not. But when she wants to be, she can be fun and exciting and flirtatious. And I think my dad was always afraid of raising me alone.” I shook my head. “I can’t imagine what he would think now if he saw the way things are going.”

Asher paused. “How are they going?” he asked quietly.

I considered how to answer. Casey would be mortified if she knew what we were talking about or the way I was about to portray her to a client. But then I sat a little taller. What I said to Asher wasn’t Casey’s business. Casey wouldn’t face the truth if it hit her in the face. I needed to tell someone, I realized, or I might just explode.

“Not well,” I finally said with a sigh. “Without my dad, the business has never been the same.” I paused. “But even if it were just that, I think we’d manage to pull through just fine.” Frustration hardened in my gut. “It’s all these conferences Casey insists on attending. At least once a month, she’s putting up at some swanky hotel with a ticket price that’s thousands of dollars. And all to rub shoulders with the elite of the industry while they go out to eat or enjoy something catered.”

Asher frowned. “What does she get out of all these conferences?”

“That’s just the thing.” I huffed. “Besides making contacts that she’ll never use because we don’t need them, she gets her social time. I told you it was how she and my dad met. I think it’s her way of feeling important by being around important people. Meanwhile, she ignores the actual numbers and hoards everyone’s paychecks so she can book another event weeks later.” I shook my head. “Then she assigns me, Derrick, and Brianna more and more work to make up for the difference.”

“And I would guess that she gives most of that work to you specifically,” Asher said.

“She does,” I admitted. “And then everyone drives me crazy asking why I stay.” To my annoyance, as I said these words, the corners of my eyes began to prick.

The road had widened, so at this point, Asher moved his horse up to walk beside mine. I could sense him looking at me, so I did my best to blink away any signs of tears. I don’t know how well I did, though, because the look on his face when I dared glance at him again was one of profound sympathy.

“You do it for your parents,” he said softly.

My throat thick, I nodded. “And the horses,” I choked out.

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’m guessing your stepsisters don’t help out much. Or your stepmother for that matter.”