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I line myself up underneath and meet Pax’s eyes. He’s watching me in silence, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“Yeah. I guess I get that,” is all I say.
“That’s why we’re here, right? Get qualified and get the hell out of the panhandle. Put it all behind us.”
“Sure.” I do my reps, letting the conversation tumble around in my brain. I’ve been preoccupied lately, but it’s occurring to me Brody’s gone from my coach to a sort of equal partner in this training. It used to be “you and Walker,” and then it was “you,” and now its “we’re” and “us.” When did that change?
Pax does his squats, and then we move to the medicine balls for balance training while I’m still puzzling over Brody’s words.
Later that afternoon, Winnie invites me on a trail ride. “On the condition we stick to English,” she requests.
“Je suppose,” I say with feigned reluctance, though, if I’m honest, her half-Texan, half-French accent is so awful, it’s cute. She definitely feels more comfortable with French texting, but that’s because she can cheat with Google Translate (and I can pretend not to notice). (I can also pretend to not freak out about the fact Winnie is inviting me on a trail ride after turning me down every other time I’ve asked.)
Brody had to get to work at his day job, and Pax and Maria took off for “date night,” which apparently consists of dinner followed by parking in some open field. Not that I have room to talk. I wasn’t exactly treating girls to fancy picnic dinners a few months ago. But that was kind of the point, wasn’t it? And anyway, I’ve stopped that. I haven’t so much as hugged a girl since the corn silo, unless you count the times I’ve held Winnie, which…
Well, she doesn’t count that, so I’d better not.
We saddle up Moses and Mab and take off for the farthest reaches of the ranch. I’ve come a long way in my riding in the last few months. Winnie and Maria would never let me live it down if I didn’t earn a horse like Moses. And Winnie practically lives on horseback. If I want to spend time with her, be her friend, learn what makes her tick, I need to be more comfortable on horseback, too. Logic, right?
I’ve always been good at logical reasoning.
I look around, taking in the golden plains spreading before us, miles and miles in every direction. The sun is still plenty high in the sky, being summer and all, which buys us time to explore.
“I forget sometimes how much I like it out here—how lucky I am.”
“It’s pretty unreal,” she admits, settling back into her saddleand taking a deep breath. I mirror her. Most days, the air is so warm that every time you stop moving, you start to sweat, but out here in the open grass, the breeze is constant and comfortable. I lift my cap and spin it backward, letting the wind cool me.
“Do you think this is what heaven looks like?” I ask.
She considers carefully, no doubt knowing what I’m really asking. Mab dances in place, probably scenting the creek up ahead, but Winnie doesn’t acknowledge her. “I think for Texans, it must.”
“You’re probably right. Though I wouldn’t be shocked if Walker’s not waiting in some arena chute right now, ready for the ride of his afterlife.”
She smiles fondly. “Alwaysjustqualifying by the skin of his teeth to keep things interesting.”
“But for me, this would do,” I say.
“Horseback and all?” she teases.
“It’s growing on me.” There’s something different in her expression. Easier, maybe. Her eyes flicker down to my mouth and back up. My hands are full of reins, so I dip to my shoulder to swipe at my lips. I ate a CLIF Bar after my workout. I probably have chocolate on my face. Winnie flushes and turns her attention back to the copse of trees in the distance. She closes her eyes and lets her head fall back, soaking up the sun and making my chest ache.
I clear my throat. “What about yours? Is this enough, or maybe you’d prefer something with a clover course and a trio of barrels?”
I’m baiting her, I know, but she seems so relaxed it’s worth the risk.
“Maybe,” she says, not bothering to open her eyes. “Or maybe I agree with you. This is pretty ultimate right here.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t put an abrupt end to this safe bubble we’re in.
Instead, I click my tongue, urging Moses on to where he and Mab have been yearning to go since we stopped. Winnie’s right on my heels. We bring the horses to rest in the shade and tie them close enough to the water’s edge so they can drink all they want.
“Maria and Camilla want me to do North Texas Open next Friday night. Late entry, but it’s small-time enough it’s not a big deal.”
I school my features, keeping them casual-but-reasonably-excited. “Really? And what do you want?”
The corner of her mouth quirks in a way that tells me she sees through my effort but appreciates it, anyway.
“Thank you for asking,” she says, amused. “You’re the only one who does, you know?”
