Page 33 of His Eighth Ride

This morning, Max barked, which caused Tag to look up from the path in front of him. Boots answered him and picked up the pace. “Hey,” Tag said. “Hey, hey, hey, calm down.”

But Boots didn’t know what that meant, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have listened. The little dog trotted now, his limp less noticeable than before—heck, than yesterday—but still there. He made it to the stable first and went tearing around it, another yip coming from his throat.

Tag sighed and looked over to the farmhouse, but he didn’t see Gerty or Mike or Max. Perhaps they’d simply let their dog out to use the bathroom, and the German shepherd had seen a pheasant or something. Max was fairly vocal, and he barked and talked at everything he saw or smelled.

Tag went past the chicken coops they used in warmer weather and around to the front of the stables. Their four new transplants to the farm had been settling in decently well. Tag took them all out every day and worked in the circle with them, because horses required a relationship filled with trust. Otherwise, they’d just as soon stay in their stalls whenever Tag wanted them to get out.

Divas, horses were, and Tag loved them so.

As he reached for the door to the stable, he heard a woman laughing. And not just any woman—Opal.

He frowned, because Opal didn’t normally come out into the stable this early in the morning. Or at all, no matter the hour.

Tag’s forward motion had him opening the door before he could truly comprehend the sound of Opal’s joyous laughter. He stepped into the warmer interior of the stable and stopped at the sight of Steele and Opal in front of him.

She stood way too close to him, and everything surrounding Tag changed.

It wasn’t wintertime, in a stable, in Colorado.

But summertime, in front of a feeding trough, on a ranch in Green River.

Opal didn’t wear blue jeans and a heavy gray coat, but a pair of short cutoffs and a flowered blouse in pink, yellow, and white.

She laughed, her head tipping back, and the man standing with Talina leaned in and kissed her throat. She grabbed onto him, and his hands encircled her waist, and before Tag knew it, his girlfriend was kissing another man.

This time, he didn’t stomp away with adrenaline pumping through his body like poison. Instead, he cleared his throat rather loudly and asked, “Opal, what the devil are you doing here?”

eleven

Opal turned from the shelf where she’d been showing Steele where the gloves and other medical supplies were. “Hey,” she said brightly when she saw Tag standing near the entrance.

Then, his tone of voice and what he’d asked rang in her ears. What the devil are you doing here?

She took a step toward him, but his face was a dark, dark mask of anger. “Tag?”

His gaze moved past her to Steele, who’d simply asked for help in getting a wrap for one of the horses. She’d only come in to get a leash for Max, who’d eaten all the fatty ends of the brisket Mike had smoked over the weekend. Off the counter.

So, then, of course, the dog needed to go out a lot more than usual. Since Gerty was working long hours on the farm, and Mike had fourteen-hour days including a commute and a life inside a busy high-rise, Opal had said she’d care for the dog.

But of course, Max only really obeyed Opal if she had food in her hand or she allowed him to do whatever he wanted. Since she simply wanted him to go out and take care of his business and then hurry back in, of course he’d caught wind of something and run off.

And she hadn’t brought out a treat, because she, well, the truth was, she hadn’t even thought of it. Max surely wouldn’t want to be outside in such frigid temperatures, despite being covered in hair.

She knew they kept extra leashes, or at least a lead rope or something she could use like a leash, in the stable, and she’d come in here to find something before going back outside to find Max and tame him to her will.

Steele had asked for her help to find the wrap, which she’d done in two seconds flat. And he’d said, “Don’t tell my momma about this. She says I wouldn’t be able to find my own head if it wasn’t attached to my body.”

Opal recalled her mother saying something similar about Easton at some point in the past, and she’d laughed.

Tag made an angry noise that sputtered from his mouth, and then he turned and left the stable. Just like that.

Opal had never even seen him get upset before. Maybe a little panicked when she’d been kicked by his horse, but never upset. Totally panicked over Boots, but not mad. Legit angry. She looked over to Steele, who kept his head down and said nothing.

She didn’t know what to do, but something told her to go after Tag. So she did that, re-entering the wintry landscape she’d rather not. In fact, she just wanted to crawl back into bed until the clock had an eight as the first number.

“Max!” she yelled, looking for the dog as much as she scanned for Tag. “Tag?”

Boots came limp-trotting around the corner, and his little dog gave him away. Opal hurried toward the edge of the stable and right around it.

---