“Yours?” he said, his face shifting. He had a nice face, Kate found herself thinking before she could stop it. Dark hair, as black as a starless night and just long enough to fall across those gray eyes, covered his head. He wore the shadow of scruff along his cheeks and chin, and with his teeth clenched, she could see a strong jawline and prominent brows.

  They furrowed instantly, looking at her like she was a bold-faced-liar.

  Kate disliked his assumption, and the fire of frustration flamed beneath her cheeks.

  Then, he surprised her by saying, “Little Katie?”

  Her mouth fell open. “What?”

  “You must be Katie.” A grin replaced the hard lines on his face. “Your parents talk about you all the time. The way they do, I always envisioned someone who was eternally twelve years old.”

  “It’s just Kate now,” she said firmly, because the last thing she was about to do was let this man call her Katie like he was some old friend. She hardly liked it when her parents called her that. “And who are you?”

  “Nathan Prescott.” He held his hand out to her. “Hired ranch hand.”

  “Right. Well,” she said, shaking his hand for a brief second before she pulled away. Ignoring his hand would have been rude, but considering he’d just dragged her out of Shade’s stall like a sack of cornmeal, he was lucky she didn’t curl her fist and punch him instead. “You can just carry on with whatever you were hired to do. I’m good here.”

  “Good?” he scoffed. “You were about to get yourself taken out by your own horse.”

  “I was not.”

  “I’ll kindly disagree. I’m pretty sure I pulled you out of the stall before the horse could trample you.”

  “Trample me?”

  “You know, this is why we don’t let the riders around the horses without a helmet. Not that we’ve been getting many riders lately.” He veered off topic, glancing at the wall of riding gear before he looked back at her. “Either way, you should definitely be thanking me.”

  “Thanking you?”

  “For saving your life.”

  “For unnecessarily manhandling me out of the stall and probably scaring Shade even more? Do you even know anything about properly handling horses?”

  “I...have the basics down.” His tone was thoroughly unconvincing.

  Kate’s face fell. “You’re completely inexperienced.”

  “What I lack in experience, I make up for in common sense. And do you think I could have looked your parents in the face if I let their only daughter get crushed by her own horse?” Nathan raised both his eyebrows. “How is your dad, by the way? Your mom texted me earlier saying he’s out of the cath lab.”

  “He’s fine,” she said, trying to keep up with his non sequitur. “And I did not need your help. So I will not be thanking you.”

  He smiled at that, and it irked her more.

  “If anything I should be blaming you,” Kate continued, not quite ready to let this die. All she had wanted to do was visit peacefully with Shade and here she was instead, arguing with a stranger whom she was mildly attracted to—not even mildly, there was just barely a hint of attraction there—and whom she simultaneously wanted to punch in the mouth for being so obtusely annoying and entitled. How could he possibly think that he knew more than she did about the horses she was raised with?

  Then he laughed. Laughed! “You’re blaming me? For what?”

  “Because you startled us both. This is your fault.”

  “Because I thought you were some entitled tourist who just waltzed into the stables to browse. No one gave me the heads-up that you were going to be here. I’m just doing my job.”

  Kate scoffed. “When does that ever happen?”

  “You’ve been gone for a while, from what I’ve been told. Things are a bit different around here. We’re always running some teenager or another off the property.” He wrinkled his nose. “They like the aesthetic for their Instagrams.”

  Kate frowned at that entire sentence but chose not to say anything. Nathan’s comment, the one about her being gone, prickled unpleasantly inside her. The fact that her parents had clearly been talking about her to him annoyed her more than anything. She looked him up and down, from his worn jeans to the black shirt already dusted with grain from the horse feed. It was a mistake, she realized, looking at him like that, because he noticed and quirked a brow in her direction, curious and maybe even a little amused.

  The flames inside her fanned out, and she crossed her arms. Perhaps it was just the exhaustion or the uncertainty of her dad’s condition that was making her lash out, but it equally might just be Nathan. She did not like him. Whatever instant spark of attraction she felt fizzled out completely, and Kate chalked him up to a pretty face and an empty head with a side of arrogance. “Well, I think I know enough about my own horses. So, thanks for the unsolicited advice, but I’ll be just fine.”

  “Just keeping everyone safe,” he said, “like I was hired to do.”

  “I don’t think that’s what you were hired to do.” She took a pitchfork from the hook on the wall and shoved it at him. “Hired hands normally need one of these.”

  With that, Kate turned and walked away, marching straight out of the stables and back toward the house, fists clenched.

  First, he had the audacity to insult her capabilities with the horses. Animals were the one thing she was good at. The one thing she actually understood. And then, just to add a little insult to injury, he practically called her a child. A twelve-year-old child that apparently needed a helmet to enter the stables.

  Kate stormed into the house, throwing the screen door open. It rattled and slammed behind her. Her mom looked up from the newspaper.

  “Do you know there’s a man in the stables?”

  “What?”

  “There’s a man in the stables!” Kate said again. It felt like she was spitting fire.

  Her mother slid a mug of coffee across the counter, sharing absolutely none of Kate’s concern. “Nate?”

  “Nate,” she said, grinding her teeth together. The fact that they already called him Nate irritated her. She took a sip of the coffee, and the disdain she felt tasted like dish soap on her tongue.

  Something in her face startled a laugh from her mother. “What, you thought your father was single-handedly running the ranch at almost sixty?”

  “Well, no,” Kate said, and the thought was as ridiculous as it sounded. She had just finished observing how things had changed since she’d last been home, so she certainly didn’t expect that her parents were doing it alone. They’d had ranch hands in the past, hired for short contracts during their busy seasons.

  But Nathan Prescott?

  “I take it you don’t like him.” Her mom frowned and tilted her head. Something that silently said, Already, Kate?

  “He knows nothing about horses!” she argued, defending her position.

  “He’s a hard worker. And he’s learning.”

  “Barely,” she muttered. How could anyone possibly teach that man anything?

  Her mom sighed. “You always were better with animals than people.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “That’s not an insult, Katie. Just maybe give Nate some more time. Don’t be so quick to judge him.”

  “It was deserved. Trust me.” At the look on her mom’s face, Kate relented. “Fine, for your sake, I will tolerate him. Maybe.”

  Her mom threw her hands up in mock relief. “That’s all I ask. Besides, you two will probably be seeing a lot of each other.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s staying on the property.”

  Kate gaped at her mother. “You gave him the guest house?”

  * * *

  “I can’t do it,” Kate said, lying on the twin mattress and quilted comforter of her childhood bedroom. She stared up at an inaccurate array of hand-glued glow-in-the-dark stars that were scattered across the ceiling. Her phone was wedged between her ear and a pillow that smelled like her mom had hidden an entire jar of potpourri inside it.

  Sarah was on the other end of the call, prepping for another night shift.

  Even after a four-hour nap, Kate still felt like she’d just crawled out of a swamp. A shower would probably help that, but the idea of moving was entirely unappealing.

  “I’m really failing to see the problem here,” Sarah said.

  “I told you. His name is Nathan Prescott and we hate him.”

  “The ridiculously attractive, presumably unattached man in your barn?”

  “It’s a stable. And stop saying it like that,” Kate said between gritted teeth. Of course Sarah would cling to that part of the story—how attractive he was. “You’re supposed to hate him with me by default. That’s your one and only job.”

  “Rancher Hotstuff? I think I’d rather keep him for my fantasies.”

  “Oh my god.”

  “And you should, too. Or better yet, go make that fantasy a reality. It’s basically been delivered to you on a silver platter at your doorstep.”

  “Oh, sure, when you say it like that, it all makes so much sense,” Kate said sarcastically. “Why didn’t I think to ask out the man who just insulted me? Missed opportunity.”

  “I could hear that eye roll,” Sarah said. “And okay, maybe you two got off on the wrong foot, but admit it, Kate. You’re still hung up on Cal—”

  “Excuse me, I am definitely not still hung up on him! I do not even like the guy anymore. As far as I’m concerned, that part of my life no longer exists.”

  “You might not want to be with him,” Sarah explained, “but you’re still angry at him. And that’s just as bad as pining after him. You have to let it all go. Cal was a bump in the road. We’re over it now, time to move on. A hot rancher seems like the perfect place to start.”

  “Is that what we think?”

  “That’s what you should be thinking. What I think is that you’re just afraid of trying again, and being mad at Cal gives you an excuse not to.”

  Kate’s entire face scrunched into a grumpy wrinkle. “I don’t think I like talking to you anymore.”

  Sarah laughed. “You love it because I’m cheaper than therapy.”

  “Put Parker on the phone. At least he loves me.” Parker was Sarah’s two-year-old son. He was the product of a one-night stand and even though Dad was not at all involved, Sarah had been absolutely enthralled with the boy from the moment he was conceived. And Kate was proud to call herself the favorite of all his surrogate aunties.

  “He’s a toddler. He loves everyone.”

  “Well, now I’m feeling great about myself.”

  “Look, take your mom’s advice,” Sarah continued. “I can tell you from experience that moms are usually right.”

  “You’ve only been a mom for two years.”

  “And I’ve been right about everything so far. Parker has no complaints. Five-star review every time.”

  Kate made a vague humming noise in the back of her throat, dragging herself from the nap nest toward the window where she fiddled with the blinds, squinting at the sun that peeked in through the slats.

  From there she could see clear across the property to the fenced pasture that the horses now roamed. There were only six of them out there, three belonging to the family. Shade was there, her coat like charcoal against the green of the pasture; Tully, a rich brown mare; and Samson, a younger pinto with white speckled patches that scattered down his back. The other three were unfamiliar, most likely belonging to boarders.

  Something in her chest sank, and Kate couldn’t quite place it. She spotted Nathan seated on the wooden fence that surrounded the pasture, arms held up to his face as he cradled something between his hands.

  Kate focused. She thought it might be a camera.

  “What are you doing?” Sarah asked. Kate could hear her clattering around the kitchen, most likely preparing food for the world’s pickiest toddler.

  “Spying.”

  “On Rancher Hotstuff?”

  Nathan sat there, raising and lowering the camera.

  “You’re going to have to stop calling him that.”

  “Hey, you’re the one watching him through the window.” A pause. “It’s just through the window, right? You haven’t got the binoculars out yet?”

  “Hilarious.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “I can’t believe he’s staying here,” Kate grumbled, letting her eyes drift farther across the property to the small guest house. It was a muted shade of blue, like the sky just before a twilight sunset, with two wicker chairs on the porch and one of her mom’s homemade wreaths hanging on the front door.

  When Kate was younger, they’d let boarders stay the night so they had easy access to their horses. When she was a teenager, she would hang out there, sometimes on her own, sometimes with friends. As an adult, the few times she’d been back to visit the ranch, she’d always stayed there. The house was completely self-sufficient, and it let her be close to her parents without actually having to live on top of them again.

  Even now, listening to her mother putter around the kitchen downstairs made Kate feel like a preteen with a curfew.

  She frowned, turning away from the window as she remembered the look on Nathan’s face when he had dragged her out of Shade’s stall like a child. Frustration bloomed in her chest once more, and she crossed the room toward her suitcase, kneeling to angrily rifle through her clothes.

  “It could be worse,” Sarah reasoned.

  “How could it be worse? My dad’s still in the hospital and the world’s most annoying hired hand is literally living next door.”

  “You could have all of that and a two-year-old that likes to wake you up at three in the morning by shoving his sticky fingers in your ear.”

  Kate snorted, finding a pair of sweats and tucking them under her arm on her way to the bathroom. “You’re loving that big-boy bed, aren’t you?”

  “I miss the crib every day.”

  “Well,” Kate said, standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom. “Any time you want to trade, let me know.”

  “I could exchange Parker for Rancher Hotstuff for a weekend,” Sarah mused. “Take him off your hands.”

  “This is why we’re friends,” Kate agreed.

  “Because I let you avoid situations that will inevitably help you grow, instead letting you wallow in a heartbreak-shaped fantasy world?”

  “No,” Kate complained loudly. “And though I feel like that was supposed to be a jab at my inability to let things go, I’m going to choose to ignore it. Tell Parker I miss him.”

  “I always do.”

  “Have fun at work.”

  “Have fun with Rancher—”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “—Hotstuff.” Sarah cackled and hung up.

  Kate shook her head, stripping out of her clothes while she waited for the water in the shower to heat up to a reasonable temperature. When it did, she climbed underneath, letting everything fade until it was just the light pressure of the water tapping against her skin. She waited for the heat to seep into every part of her and for the steam to drown out all thoughts of her dad and the ranch and Nathan.

  She couldn’t keep thinking about what it all meant.

  What it meant that she’d finally come home.

  And what it meant to admit that she really had missed this place.

  Because if that was true, why did she want to run so badly?

  Chapter Four

  She woke with the dawn the next morning, watching a yellow sunrise spill across the horizon and turn the fields to dewy gold. Kate marveled at just how quickly she’d fallen back into the routine of the ranch.

  Maybe it was just jet lag and a broken sleep schedule.

  Or maybe it was a childhood of dawn wake-up calls, of racing out to the stables to greet the horses in the morning. These things were ingrained so deeply in her that she couldn’t shake the call to rise and fall with the sun, no matter how long she’d been away.

  When she’d flown home to her dad’s bedside, she’d expected to be thrown into the chores, helping to keep the ranch afloat while her dad recovered. She’d not expected a brand-new ranch hand to be living in her guest house. Nor had she expected Nathan, a man who could hardly call himself a ranch hand. But the fact remained that he was here, in her space, doing the things she thought she would be doing. Truthfully, she felt oddly usurped.

  Like she’d been replaced without anyone telling her.

  And that was the worst way to be supplanted.

  Of course, she could go out and help him. Kate knew well enough that more hands were always welcome in the stables.

  But after yesterday, that was the last thing she felt like doing. Considering she had just promised to give Nathan a chance, her mother would be terribly disappointed.

  Frankly, Kate wasn’t sure which was worse: clenching her teeth as she worked side by side with Nathan or enduring the pointed stare of her mom over cornflakes. Her stomach grumbled in answer, and Kate took that as a sign to chance breakfast and reevaluate her options.

  She slipped on a pair of jeans and a worn gray sweater before heading downstairs. She expected to find her mom in the kitchen, puttering around with breakfast at this hour, but the lights were off, the room empty. Maybe her mom was finally catching up on all the sleep she’d missed.

  Kate padded around quietly, searching out a mug and turning on the coffee maker, finding everything exactly where it always was. Through the kitchen window, she watched Nathan trudge across the field. He hopped the wooden fence of the paddock easily, and the fact that he didn’t just use the gate amused her for some reason.

  When black coffee started to drip, drip, drip into the bottom of her mug she turned away, popping a couple slices of bread into the toaster. She busied herself with butter and jam and creamer, wondering why she had been relegated to the status of useless. Her dad was being taken care of by some amazing nurses, leaving Kate little to do in that department. The horses didn’t need her to muck their stalls because they had Nathan. And her mother was as independent as she’d always been.

 

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