Page 26 of Stud Ranch

What other outdoor activities could she and Dylan do together?

Then it hit her. She was hungry. They could enjoy a picnic if she could get her hands on a cooler of food.

That morning, Dylan mentioned ordering the breakfast tray from the dining hall. If she could locate which building that was, she could ask them about a picnic.

As she wandered the stone paths weaving through the beautiful ranch, she created a mental map of everything she saw. There was a greenhouse with tall, vibrant plants visible within the glass walls. Several more outbuildings with metal roofs were just as quaint as the main lodge and Bungalow 12.

Around one corner, she spied a food plot. The big scarecrow sporting faded jeans and an old red flannel shirt brought a smile to her lips.

A few minutes later she came across a plot of ground that made her stop in her tracks.

At first glance, she thought she was looking at a cemetery. Then she realized she wasn’t seeing monuments and headstones but statues.

In awe, she walked closer to get a better look. The small, flat lawn had at least a dozen statues.

When she neared the first one, she let out a soft noise of joy. A wolf carved from a beautiful specimen of wood stood sentry at the path leading to the main plot of what she could only call a garden of statues.

Some were carved from wood, but many were stone.

In wonder, she circled the wolf that stood as tall as her, marveling at the way the fur seemed to ripple in the wind. How lifelike the snout and teeth were. The eyes would make her shudder in fear if she’d come across the garden in the dark.

The website didn’t mention the statues as an attraction, and it was a little off the beaten path. How many guests missed it each week?

She slowly moved to the next carving of a horse rearing on its hind legs, forelegs pawing the air and mane flowing down its back. Its tail was a marvel so intricately carved from wood that it appeared soft.

Testing the theory, she reached out a finger and touched it. The cool wood under her finger was perfectly smooth. She didn’t even pick up a splinter.

She stopped to inspect each statue in the garden. The few in the back of the lot were the most shocking of all for the talent put into their creation.

Three fat pigs made of stone looked as though they’d start snorting and grunting any second. Sloane laughed at the thought of them rooting around for food.

Which gave her another idea. This would be the perfect spot for a picnic.

First, she’d find the food. Then she’d find Dylan to share it with her.

Shaw’s face rose in her mind. So handsome. Rugged. His features could be carved into stone the same way these animals were.

He had been on track to have his best year in the NHL. He was close to breaking a record for points that would have possibly gained him a statue in the arena where he played for almost his entire career.

If injuries didn’t sideline him for the season, his godlike face and muscled body could have been cast in bronze or chiseled in granite.

Her heart flexed. Every day their daughter grew to share more and more of his features. Marigold had her daddy’s attitude too, even at her young age.

Sloane never wanted Shaw to walk out of his child’s life—that was his own choice.

Now she saw that he’d run far away to the Alaskan wilderness.

And became a therapist who treats women through sexual relations.

Ugh. The last thing Sloane wanted to dwell on was Shaw spending time with other women. She wasn’t exactly jealous…but he sure looked about to erupt when he saw Dylan sucking her nipples in the barn.

Did that mean Shaw still cared about her?

Turning the tables of her mind, she had to question if she’d feel the same if she found him making out with another woman.

They were both adults. They’d moved on. Taking steps backward, at this stage of the game, would not benefit her one bit.

She had to move forward.

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