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“I don’t know where to start.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You went overboard.”
“Never. Open them.”
She took a deep breath, picked up a gift, and opened her presents. He laughed when she gasped at each one. He went a little overboard, but she would want for nothing if it was in his power.
Once she finished opening her gifts, he opened his. She bought him shirts, jeans, a pair of Beckett boots, and a new cowboy hat. He loved it all. He frowned when she handed him an envelope with his name on it.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.” She sat back on her heels and stared at him.
Brett nodded, opened the envelope, and saw a folded paper. He looked at her, frowned, and unfolded it. He laughed when he read it.
“Johanna Jolene.” He looked at her. “I love it. Why do you hate it?”
“I suppose because I’ve always been JoJo. I’m named after both of my grandmothers. They nicknamed me that because Johanna was too close to my mother’s name. My maternal grandmother was Johanna, and my paternal was Jolene.”
“Well, now I know what to yell when you piss me off.” Brett laughed when she swatted at him.
Her head tilted. “And yours?”
“Brett is my middle name.”
“What?”
“Yes, ma’am. My first name is Michael. After my dad.”
“Michael Brett Watkins. I love it. Almost as much as I love you.”
Brett smiled. “Get dressed. I want to show you something in the barn.”
“Okay.” She got up from the floor and ran from the room and to the bedroom. He got to his feet and followed her.
After dressing, they walked through the snow to the barn. Brett flipped the lights on and then led her along the aisle. He stopped at a stall and nodded for her to look. She did and let out a gasp.
“Oh, my God. What a beautiful horse.”
“I’m glad you think so, because she’s yours.”
JoJo spun around to look at him. “Mine?”
“Yes, I wanted you to have a horse here. You keep yours at your parents, but you need one here.”
“Brett, you have horses I could ride.”
He shrugged. “I know, but you said you loved Morgans, so I bought her for you. She’s a beauty.”
****
JoJo couldn’t agree more. The horse was solid black except for a white face. She touched the nose, and the horse blew into her hand.
“You’ll have to name her. Holt said he doesn’t name the ones he’s selling.”
“I’ll think of a name. Thank you,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his lips.
“I bought a Morgan for me too, but that’s not all for you.” Brett took her hand and led her to the tack room.
She entered the room and gasped when she saw the tan saddle with a red bow. Walking to it, she lifted the fender strap to seeConwaystitched on it. Then she walked around the back to see her name stitched on the cantle. A tear rolled down her cheek.
