Page 27 of Since Day One

“Yeah. I asked for a horse from the time I was six years old. I’d gone to a sleepover where we watched that old Western ‘The Man From Snowy River’.”

“Okay, and they told you no?”

“Not just no, but that I would never be able to live a comfortable life. There was no money in the horse world. I would never succeed because I didn’t grow up in it. That I would be better off working at a fast food restaurant than trying to be a cowgirl. No one would teach me. That I should be like Marissa and just date rich guys. That if I tried this, they wouldn’t help me because it would be a waste of money,” I snarled, feeding off of the years of bottled-up anger that was slowly exploding.

“But I wanted it. During school, I researched everything I could about horses and riding and ranching. I snuck out of the house to go to rodeos and every horse show possible. I didn’t care if it was reining, or cutting, or reined cow horse, or horsemanship. I just wanted to learn,” I continued, and he finally threw his hands up in frustration as the Razor continued to spin out.

“I figured the best place to find a way into the world would be the state known for ranching, and I got lucky. When I left home at seventeen, I met Kurt at a restaurant I was working at a week after arriving in Texas. I told him I would do whatever he asked if I could just ride a horse once.”

Gunnar chuckled and turned the engine off as the snow continued to pile higher and higher. “How long did it take you?”

“Three years. I spent three years watching, listening, and doing grunt work before he put me on a horse. After that, though, there hasn’t been a day when I haven’t ridden,” I answered as Gunnar pulled himself out the window of the Razor.

“We are stuck. You’re gonna have to climb out, and we are going to have to bunker down in the cabin just a few yards ahead until the storm stops,” he said, gesturing to my right. I glanced between the man who was already up to his knees in snow and the white blanket beside me.

“You’re being serious,” I said, bewildered.

“Yes, Princess. Now, let’s go before it gets even worse and we are snowed in outside.” He pointed again, and I groaned. “It’s only a little bit of snow. Now, be the badass cowgirl you are and climb out.”

I gripped the frame of the Razor and hoisted myself up over the door. “You think I’m a real cowgirl?” My feet landed in the frozen winter wonderland, the moisture quickly soaking through my pants. I hissed from the cold but stomped toward Gunnar, who was waiting with his hand outstretched.

“Of course. And anyone who’s not a fool sees it too. So, don’t doubt yourself just because people who are supposed to always be in your corner choose not to be. It seems you’ve made a new life, a new family for yourself,” he answered as my frozen fingers landed in his palm. He tugged me forward and then once again scooped me into his arms.

“I can walk,” I quipped, and he chuckled.

“But this is faster. Now, shush,” he said, and I closed my mouth. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I buried my face against his chest as he slowly plowed his way through the blizzard.

Chapter 10

Gunnar kicked the door closed behind us, almost dropping me on the floor of the small cabin. I glanced around, taking in what was about to turn into home for who knows how long. To the right of the small, dark brown wooden door was an old log fireplace, empty and cold. Two red plaid couches faced each other on either side of the fireplace with a matching set of recliners pointed toward it. A beautiful antique, mahogany coffee table had been placed on top of a crimson Persian-style rug between the furniture.

To my left was a small dining table with four chairs and a tiny kitchen. A gas stove, an old basin sink, and even a cramped fridge sat amidst the small butcher-block counter space. Past the couches were three doors. Two of them were open, showing me a little bathroom, what looked like a single bedroom, and a closed door.

Gunnar set me down on the floor. “How did you know we were close to here?” I asked, and his chest rumbled with a soft laugh, kicking off his boots that were completely soaked.

“I paid attention to where we were going despite your insane driving,” he replied, peeling off his coat. I tugged my boots off as well, setting them down beside his as he flicked at the light switch. Nothing turned on. He clicked his tongue and then walked toward the fireplace. Tossing a few logs into it from the pile of wood stacked beside it, he slid a packet of matches off of the stone mantel, lit a couple, and tossed them in.

It blazed to life as he carried the matches around the small cabin and began lighting small lamps hung along the walls. I stared in disbelief as he turned this chilly wooden building into something that seemed slightly livable. Other than the lack of food.

He finished lighting the candles and returned the matches to the fireplace mantle as I watched in bewilderment. Gunnar laughed the moment his eyes rested upon my face.

“We prepare these cabins anytime guests come, because at least once someone wants to go on an overnight ride, but most of the time they don’t want to sleep out under the stars. Other times, people rent them out for hunting or whatnot. So, don’t stress, the fridge has some essentials, and it’s run by gas, like the stove, so the storm hasn’t touched that. Plus, we have a pantry that’s stocked with canned goods.”

“I wasn’t worried,” I lied, and he saw right through it.

“No, you weren’t at all.” He watched as my body began to violently shiver. I hadn’t even realized I was that cold until the adrenaline began wearing off. “Go get out of your wet clothes. I should have a couple of shirts stashed in the bottom dresser drawer for emergencies. Put one on while I boil some water.”

“Aren’t you co-cold too?” I stuttered between my clattering teeth.

“I’ll be fine,” he answered, walking into the kitchen and pulling out a couple of big pots from the cabinet. “Go.” He nodded toward the bedroom.

“Where are you getting wa-water?” I asked, finally moving my nearly frozen feet over to the bedroom.

He gestured out the window that sat above a wooden rocking chair in the left corner beside the door. “Plenty of it is frozen outside.” He smiled tenderly. I nodded, making my way clumsily across the hardwood floor. Gunnar waited beside the front until I managed to close the bedroom door before he opened the room back up to the outside world.

My numb fingers struggled to peel my wet clothes off of my body. It took more effort than I wanted as I stood at the foot of the bed with a soft, hand-stitched, forest green quilt spread upon it. Beautiful bear-decorated pillows were propped up against the dark oak headboard. Matching bear lamps flickered on either side of the bed, perched on top of dark oak nightstands. Beside the door was the dresser with a small mirror on top that Gunnar had mentioned and a small closet to the right. That was it. Quaint and cozy.

Finally, I stood utterly naked and shivering in the middle of a pile of wet clothes. Staggering over to the dresser, I crouched and jerked open the bottom drawer to find Gunnar was correct. Inside, were neatly folded button-ups, a pair of jeans, shorts, and sweatpants. My hand trembled as I dragged out a deep maroon shirt and clutched it against my body for a moment, burying my nose in the fabric.

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