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My mom loved this book. I remembered her reading it to me when I was so little I could barely understand it, and it was such a long book that it took months of bedtime stories for us to get through it. And when we finished it, she started it over. We wore out two hardcovers that way, and I was well on my way to turning the third into a rag.
In my teens, we’d have popcorn and movie nights with one screen adaptation or another. I’d even named my favorite queening horse Knightley because he was such a dreamy guy. He was the stuff ofmydreams, anyway. I still regretted selling him, even though I’d thought it was a good idea at the time. Things change.
I never got to say goodbye to Mom. In the last phone conversation I had with her, she was putting away groceries in the kitchen, and I could hear the miniseries playing in the background. She probably just had it on because it reminded her of me and all the cozy evenings we had spent watching it.
Mom died when I was on a tour in Texas, working for the Miss Rodeo organization. It was so sudden that Dad didn’t even have time to call for help. She’d been pruning the roses and just collapsed from a heart attack. Dad was so broken when he called me that he never even got the words out. I just knew I needed to come home.
So, I did. For good.
And just like Mom, I somehow always returned to our favorite old story to remember her when I was feeling lonely. Watching the movie alone made me cry, so I usually read the book. I had a stack of others like it, too. I’d learned to love Georgette Heyer, Elizabeth Gaskell, and Brontës. If it involved sprawling old estates and deliciously outdated customs, ladies in scrumptious gowns who flirted with the boundaries of propriety, and gentlemen who sacrificed everything to gallop in on a white horse and save the day… yeah, I was a sucker for all of it.
Maybe that was why I was still single. I’d never met the guy who would give up his time or his job or whatever else might have lain in his path just to be with me. It sounded selfish to say it like that, but all I’d ever known were guys who wanted me for what I could do for them. Guys who expected me to be the one to give up everything to be their arm candy, and I was over it.
That was what I should have said to Kelli earlier. Maybe therewerestill guys out there who were interested in me, but could they be whatIwas looking for? Just once, I wanted to find the guy who would put me first, ahead of all his other ambitions. And I’d do the same for him because that was what love was to me.
I guess they just didn’t make real life that beautiful.
Chapter 6
Dusty
-Can you come out to the yard?
Ipickedupmyphone to read the text from Luke. Why would he be asking that? He knew I was trying to get the bills paid before the end of the week, and he usually didn’t bother me unless it was an emergency. But if it was an emergency, he wouldn’t have phrased it so politely. He was up to something again, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of it. I still wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to him right now. I frowned and texted back.
-I’m busy.
His answer was almost instantaneous.
-Dude, this is worth it. I need you.
I cast my head back and scowled at the ceiling for a minute. Somehow, I had to find a way to deal with Luke, even through this. I swallowed and sent him a reply.
-On my way
When I got outside, there was an enormous horse hauler with California plates backing into the driveway. Luke was spotting for the driver, wearing a huge grin. “Five more feet,” he called. “You have lots of room!”
I came beside him and hooked my thumbs on my belt. “You bought her.”
Luke glanced at me and shifted something around in his cheek. “‘Course I did.”
“And you’re chewing again. I thought you quit that.”
“It’s gum. See?” He hung his mouth open to give me a view.
“I don’t want to see your stupid gum.” But I couldn’t help smiling, just a little. Luke would always be Luke, goofy stunts and all. As frustrated as I was with him, I loved him more.
“Suit yourself. That’s far enough! Crank it a bit now and then back up off the driveway,” he yelled at the driver. To me, he said, “Don’t want to make her step off on slick pavement, you know?”
“Since when do you care about that?”
“Since I emptied my bank account buying her.”
I rolled my eyes. “I just hope she’s half as nice as you think she is.”
“She will be. Okay, that’s good! I’ll get the door!”
I followed Luke around to the back of the semi-trailer. The hauler was supposed to unload the horse, but Luke beat him. He was already inside, unfastening the dividers and banging around before the driver even got out of the truck. We heard some thumping, a horse sneeze, and Luke’s voice soothing the mare. Then hooves sounded on the matted floorboards as he backed her out.
