Page 9 of Since Day One

“Are you or Gunnar older?” I blurted out without thinking, and both guys laughed as my cheeks turned hot and I jumped down from the hay.

“Gunnar is by a year,” Ruger answered from my left side, and we slowly made our way out of the barn.

“Want to come do something really fast before dinner?” Gunnar asked from my right. “Or do you need to fix that bandage on your finger?”

“Finger’s good.” I wiggled the injured hand in front of him, and his brows stitched together. His lips parted, a question hanging on his tongue, but no sound was made, so I continued. “Are you taking me somewhere to kill me? ‘Cause if that’s the case, no,” I continued, squinting an accusing glare at him. Ruger threw his head back in a full belly laugh.

“She already knows you too well, brother,” he said, laughing even harder.

Gunnar reached around me and threw his brother in a headlock. “Don’t make me go get your wife.” Ruger tossed his hands up in protest. Gunnar slid his arm away from Ruger’s neck, and they both fell into step beside me again. Turning away from the lodge, they guided me toward another barn, just past the one we’d been in.

As we neared, I could hear the familiar nickers of horses, waiting for dinner. They knew we were coming, too, and I lifted my brows in excitement. I glanced between Gunnar and Ruger as we neared the short side of the barn, and Gunnar rolled his eyes.

“This is what impresses you?” he asked, exasperated, wrapping a hand around the handle and twisting.

“Obviously!” I answered in glee as the door swung open and I could smell it: the warmth of horses and hay, wooden shavings, and sweat. It was my absolute favorite. I shoved past Gunnar.

On either side of me ran a row of stalls full of horses. I immediately dashed to the one on my left and gripped the cool metal bars, peering in. Then I bounced across the aisle to the next. I couldn’t get over it—rows of exquisite quarter horses. Duns, roans, buckskins, bays, sorrels, you name it—all with thick muscling and shiny coats. Every horse gleamed. Dancing between stalls, with every step and each new horse, my heart soared with familiarity and calmness. This was home, no matter how far it was from Texas.

Some horses met me at the gate, nuzzling me through the bars. Others just studied me with curious gazes. Smack in the middle of the barn was an empty space. There were a few poles to tie up the horses, with grooming equipment lined up on shelves that were mounted against the walls.

On the opposite side were buckets with lids—some labeled with types of grain, while others featured names that matched the halters hanging on the outside of each horse’s stall. I closed my eyes and smiled, inhaling deeply.

“Someone’s been in a place like this before,” Gunnar said beside me.

“Someone lives at a place like this,” I whispered in reply, and he raised a brow.

“Well, they need dinner. Care to help?” he asked, and I grinned like a kid in a candy store.

We spent the next half hour pouring grain and distributing hay, and I got to go into almost every stall. The brothers let me meet nearly every horse—a couple of pregnant mares and some younger colts and fillies; it was love at first sight every time. Once I emptied my most recent bucket of grain, I skipped over to Gunnar to hand it back to him.

“Which ones are yours?” I asked, and his eyes lit up, the gold-speckled ring around his pupils sparkling in the low light.

“All of them on the right side of the barn.”

“And do you have more?”

He nodded. “The ones in here are just the ones that need their coats to be kept shorter as we head into colder weather because I can’t have them overheating in the arenas they show in.”

I smiled and walked toward the closest one. A small bay nickered at me but kept eating. “That’s Phil. I’m hoping to show him in the upcoming futurity,” Gunnar said, leaning against the stall beside me. I glanced toward the towering man I’d only met a few hours ago. Someone I already found myself really comfortable around.

“You gonna let me ride him?”

“Oh hell no,” he answered firmly, and I pouted. Gunnar chuckled and then nodded at Ruger, who was coming back with the last empty bucket of feed. “Let’s go get some dinner.”

I followed the two brothers out of the barn, and we walked quietly back to the lodge. Beautiful sounds of the night filled the chilly air as I shrugged my shoulders closer to my ears.

“Texas girl is a little cold,” Ruger said, and I rolled my eyes.

“Exactly why living there is smarter than here,” I whipped back.

“You calling me dumb?” He glared at me as we stepped up onto the wooden porch.

“Absolutely,” I answered, and he scowled while a soothing, deep chuckle left Gunnar.

“Seriously. She acts like another hand,” Ruger muttered, before disappearing inside.

Gunnar paused, turning to face me. “It was pretty impressive what you did back at the hay barn. Just thought someone should tell you that you did a good job.”

---