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“Certainly. I’ve had a roast in the slow cooker all day.”
Mack sniffed the air, but couldn’t detect the scent of cooking meat over the rest of the odors of the ranch. “Mashed potatoes?”
“Of course. What kind of monster do you think I am?”
“Just checking.” And teasing. Arthur was a tried-and-true meat and potatoes man. Where there was one, there was the other. “I’ll see you around six, then?”
“Six it is.”
“Cool. I have to get a few more things ready for tomorrow’s check-in. See you in a while.”
Mack strode toward the tourist barn and his office. Most of his work for tomorrow was finished, so he bypassed the office and walked down two stalls to his personal horse, Tude. A paint mare with several ugly scars on her flanks, thanks to a brutal previous owner, she’d come into Arthur’s care around the same time as Mack. Mack had fallen in love with the high-strung horse, renamed her Attitude, Tude for short, and Arthur had helped him retrain her.
She nickered at his presence, her big head rising over the stall’s gate. Mack held up a cube of sugar that she greedily picked up with her lips. He rubbed a hand over her smooth nose, up her long forehead. She had big brown eyes that simultaneously said “I like you” and “I dare you.” Attitude.
“What do I need a boyfriend for when I’ve got you, lady?” Mack asked softly, the only sounds in the barn the quiet movements of the other horses.
Tude didn’t have an answer for him.
