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“I was ready to jump in and tell you that Mathew needed to learn how to cope with disappointment. He is too old to throw fits like that, especially when he had a decent second option. You might not like it, but that’s how I want to raise him. I’m not going to be around for his entire life, and he needs to learn how to figure things out when they don’t go as planned.” His voice softened, filling with awe. “You knew exactly what to say to reach him on a level where he didn’t feel judged or unloved.”
Chills ripped through her body. Everything he was saying made her feel seen. She couldn’t explain it. Perhaps it had something to do with that magnetic pull they shared. Her mouth felt like it was full of dirt, dry and closing up without any way to respond to him. Dianna could only think of one thing to say. “Thank you?”
He chuckled, and the sound felt like hot chocolate and fleece blankets on a cold winter morning. “I wanted to ask you something, but I wasn’t sure how you’d respond.”
She swallowed hard. “Okay.”
“I was hoping that you might—”
“Miss Dianna!” Mathew’s voice called from near the entrance to the indoor arena. “I can’t open the door!”
She swiveled her head around, taking a step away from Tristan in the process. The moment had felt all too intimate—at least to her. For all she knew, he was going to ask her about Mathew or for recommendations on how to reach his son in a more effective way.
He most definitely wasn’t going to bring up the possibility of wanting to explore something personal. She shivered and shook her head as she sent him an apologetic glance. “Sorry,” she murmured and jogged away.
13
Tristan
Tristan’s heart pounded, hitting different beats and tempos and making him wonder if it wasn’t trying to compose a new rendition of “The Little Drummer Boy.” It had been but a small moment—a surge of confidence that had drawn him closer to Dianna.
In the back of his mind, there was an itch, a warning that he shouldn’t lose sight of why he was here. Mathew was their priority. They both knew it.
And yet his heart roared with the idea that Dianna could be what had been missing from his life. He couldn’t get over the way she’d handled the situation with the wrong horse. If he’d been waiting for a sign to do something, it had been that.
Tristan heaved a sigh and trudged across the frozen ground toward the arena. Dianna and Mathew had already entered the building, leaving him to continue beating his thoughts senseless. He couldn’t help but feel like time was running out.
What was it that people always said? He’d miss one hundred percent of the chances he didn’t take?
He entered the building and headed for the usual area he liked to watch. His eyes locked onto his son and Dianna, and a swelling of pride filled his chest. But it was more than that; a twinge of longing seemed to dance within him. This was what he wanted and if he didn’t do something about it—force himself to fight for something this important—he’d lose his opportunity.
He’d stepped around the subject since meeting her. When he’d been younger, things were different. He was different.
Whenever he met someone new and wanted to get to know them better, he’d ask them out on the spot. Somehow that part of him had changed, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
He found himself watching Dianna more than Mathew, enthralled with how well she worked with him and how gentle she was with the animal. Really, there should be nothing to hold him back from taking that first step.
Nothing except that latent fear that it wouldn’t work out and Mathew would be hurt.
Tristan shook the thought from his mind.
Dianna wasn’t like that. She wouldn’t just leave because things were hard. He could tell. If a relationship with her didn’t work out, it would be for something understandable.
Her eyes found his and he smiled, reveling in the way she dropped her gaze. Her cheeks flushed. He might be out of practice, but that reaction seemed more telling than she probably wanted it to be.
The next half-hour went off without a hitch. Mathew was on his best behavior, and it was easy to forget what had transpired before Dianna had arrived.
Once they were done, they returned Molasses to his stall and headed for the cabin. Dianna sat down at the table with Mathew to help him with his assignments while Tristan moved into the kitchen to make them a snack.
The tension continued to build with each glance that passed between himself and Dianna. The weight of the air pressed in on him until it was almost suffocating. He placed a cup of hot chocolate on the table in front of Mathew, then kissed the top of his head as he moved over to Dianna and held out a mug toward her. Her fingertips brushed his and a thrill shot through him.
“Thank you,” she said.
He nodded, then returned to the kitchen area to put away what he’d gotten out. The next hour dragged on as he recited in his head over and over what he wanted to say to her, how he wanted to ask her.
Once Mathew completed his work, he hopped down from the table. “I’m going to draw.”
Tristan smiled. “Have fun.”
