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Last week, at the Christmas Eve party, she’d admitted what he’d already known: she was pretending with him, just like she did with everyone in her life.
He suspected she had one person she was herself with, and that was Olli Hudson. Chappell. Spur’s new wife. Cayden knew Olli and had for years. He wasn’t going to ask her what he should do to crack through Virginia Winters’s tough external shell, though.
He was figuring it out, one event, one phone call, and one text at a time. “Almost there,” he said to himself as he poured a bowl of cereal and started eating it.
The door down the hall that led to the garage opened, and a couple of people entered. They were both talking right over the top of one another, and Cayden recognized their voices as Ian and Conrad.
“…can you believe it?” one of them said.
“That horse is amazing,” the other said. “Coming off the rail like that? Incredible.”
Before he’d finished, the other was talking, and Cayden knew about what.
Somebody’s Lady. Trey had texted late the night before Christmas Eve and invited everyone in the family to come watch the horse he’d been training for the Sweetheart Classic.
Cayden had gone, and he’d been impressed. The horse could run, that was for sure.
Trey had explained that it was her first race with other horses, as well as a crowd larger than four. He wanted them to be loud, and he wanted them to cheer. He wanted to see how Somebody’s Lady did when confronted with distractions and competition, and if he’d been worried, after the race, Cayden wouldn’t understand why.
“There you are,” Conrad said, actually interrupting himself in the middle of a sentence as he entered the kitchen. “You should’ve seen Lady tonight. She finished three lengths ahead of Lost Boy.”
“Wow,” Cayden said, glancing at Ian, who wore an equally excited look in his eyes. “You realize we don’t own Somebody’s Lady.”
“Trey does,” Ian said, his voice taking on an arrogant pitch that annoyed Cayden. “He and Beth own her together.”
“You know the Sweetheart Classic isn’t a race to brag about winning, right?” Cayden asked next. He loved goading Ian, because the man thought he was the best horse trainer in the south. He was good—very good—but Cayden knew there was always someone better. That was just the way of the world.
Even when he felt like he was doing well, there was someone doing better. On the flip side of that, there was someone doing worse, and he’d become content with his middle-of-the-road life.
At least until he’d met Ginny Winters. Now, he just wanted more. He wanted more dogs so he’d have something to talk with her about. More time with her. More opportunities to see her and what kind of incredible fashion she wore. More information about her. More insight into what made her tick. More knowledge of what she liked and didn’t like, what she wanted and what she dreamt about. More, more, more.
“It has a purse of five hundred grand,” Ian said, stepping past Cayden and opening the fridge. “Aren’t you going out tonight? Why are you eating cereal?”
“I like cereal,” Cayden said, not about to admit that the party tonight only had “light appetizers.” He simply filled his mouth with the puffed rice cereal he loved and watched Ian look for something to eat.
“Mom has food at her place,” he said casually, knowing that would earn him a scowl
Sure enough, Ian tossed him a growl and a scowl and said, “I’m ordering from HanaRamen. You want something, Conrad?” He pulled out his phone and started tapping to get to the delivery app.
Conrad didn’t answer, his own phone completely dominating his attention. Cayden stayed out of it, because he wasn’t going to order from the ramen noodle place in town that had everyone talking about how much they enjoyed Japanese food.
Cayden did not enjoy Japanese food, and he’d take a good medium-rare steak, a baked potato with all the toppings, and tall glass of lemonade for any meal, any time.
“Conrad,” Ian barked, and Conrad looked up from his phone.
“What?” he barked back. “Can you leave me alone for five seconds? Hilde posted something.” He strode into the living room, and Cayden and Ian exchanged a glance.
“What did she post?” Cayden asked, still watching Ian. Conrad had dated Hilde for most of this year, but she’d broken up with him just after Thanksgiving, citing something about how she needed time to “find herself” and “decide what she wanted.”
Conrad had been devastated, and he’d slept in Spur’s room for a week just to be around the older, wiser brothers. His words. Cayden suspected he’d stayed here so he wouldn’t have to answer any questions.
As Blaine and Cayden were the only two in the homestead now, and they both usually kept their questions to themselves, Conrad had found some measure of relief with them.
“She’s going to India again,” Conrad said. In the next moment, he sucked in a breath. “Look at this.” He jogged back over to Cayden and shoved the phone in his face.
Cayden leaned away to be able to see it. “What am I looking at?”
Conrad shifted the phone to Ian, who actually took the device. “It’s Jason.”
