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Gerty walked away, her heart pounding beneath her breastbone. Once inside the shady stable, she shook herself. “What are you doing? You vowed you would not date for a solid year. To find yourself. To figure out where you should be.”
She’d ended things with James only a month ago. One month. A single turn of the moon through its phases. She’d stayed in Montana with her maternal grandparents for a few weeks, and had she known Mike would be here on this farm when she arrived, Gerty…well, Gerty didn’t know what she’d have done.
Daddy had questions she didn’t want to answer. Cosette watched her with dark eyes, biding her time. Her siblings didn’t much care why Gerty had come back, but Walter wanted to show her his stunt tricks all day long, and Amy had definitely inherited their daddy’s penchant for talking and laughing. And laughing and talking. And then talking some more.
She sighed and reached up to rub her forehead. She’d just wanted some peace and quiet, and she’d made an excuse about Tennessee and left the cabin as her parents both watched, each with a very different expression on their face.
Mom had smiled her out of the house and would likely text her a couple of questions, and Daddy had frowned mightily, which meant he’d stay up until Gerty came home, and then he’d make her sit next to him on the couch while they talked it all out.
She honestly didn’t mind either of those, but she just wanted solace. “Dear Lord,” she whispered as she looked up into the rafters of the stable. “I just need to find some peace. Please.”
Everything in her life had been shocked, blitzed out of place, turned around, and then shaken up. She’d quit her job in Montana when she’d discovered James’s infidelity, and Molly had been more than willing to take her on this summer.
So she’d come back.
Mike had a specialist to see in the city. So he’d returned.
Was it serendipitous? Should she go out with him?
Her heartbeat ricocheted through her body, as if it were three distinct pieces, each trying to beat on its own. She wasn’t sure how to be in a relationship with a shattered heart, and she’d told Mike the truth.
She wasn’t ready.
Her phone buzzed, and she looked down at it. Mom:What time do you think you’ll be back? Do you want me to hold dinner, or are you riding for a while?
A while, Gerty thumbed out. She wanted to tell her mother that she was twenty-eight years old and certainly knew how to feed herself. She owned a truck, and a horse trailer, and four horses of her own. Gray and Hunter had been more than gracious to allow her to house them here, and she heard Tenney calling for her again.
Mom:I’m worried about you.
“Join the club,” Gerty grumbled under her breath.
Mom:Will you at least tell us about your stay with Carrie and Kyle? Your daddy wants to know.
Yes, Gerty sent back. She’d have to tell her parents everything, she knew, but some of it she didn’t know how to put into words quite yet.
Thus, her need for a horseback ride. In Gerty’s experience, they could fix almost anything. Maybe not a cheating fiancé, but a lot.
Gerty collected Tenney’s tack and took it outside, her arms straining with the weight of his saddle. She was strong, and she knew it. People everywhere had underestimated her, and Gerty had almost gotten used to it. She didn’t call attention to herself, and she’d worked two ranches in Texas while simultaneously becoming a barrel racer before she’d gone to Calgary to compete in the Stampede there.
She wasn’t rodeo queen material, but she could ride a horse that was for dang sure. She’d won second place, and then she’d gone to Montana to work at a ranch there. She’d met the owner at the Stampede, and he wanted someone to train his horses to carry riders the way hers did. She’d worked at the Johnson Manor Ranch for the past five years, where she’d met her boss’s son, fallen in love, and had expected to get married atop two horses and ride off into the sunset.
She should’ve known her life wouldn’t be that easy. Her own mother had died of a rare blood disease when Gerty was only seven years old.
“Gerty,” Mike said, and she looked at him. He reached out and touched her cheek. “Where were you?”
Gerty didn’t know how to answer. “I just…I need it to just be quiet,” she said. “It’s so loud inside my head.”
He nodded, his eyes harboring a serious edge. She’d seen it before, right before he kissed her that first time. And the last. He was a fun guy—now a man—and a hard worker. Everything he did seemed effortless, even with his arm in that sling.
Tenney took the bit easily, almost reaching for it, and Gerty swung into his saddle. “You’re okay to just walk?”
“Yes’m,” he said.
“Oh, boy,” she retorted. “You’re not a cowboy, Mikey.”
“I’m wearin’ the hat,” he said.
She scoffed and shook her head. “That doesn’t make you a cowboy.”
