Page 48 of Training the Heart

“Three,” I correct, without looking at him.

I give her one last little pat. She’s a beautiful creature andwe’d probably only pay around a half million for her. I force myself to move forward, because as much as I think she could be the one, I would never ask Wade to take such a risk.

“If it was my money, and I had all the time in the world, my money would be on her, but it’s not.” I shrug. “So, let’s go look for your surefire winner,” I say, casting one more glance over my shoulder at my girl.

We continue cruising the aisles until we come to the horse we’ve been looking forward to.

“Well hello, Rustling Winds,” I say to him.

He is strong and beautiful, I’ll say that. I start at his feet and take in the sight of him. Moving over every inch to search for flaws and strengths. Is it wrong to judge a horse’s personality the way I would judge a man’s at first glance?

Probably, but do I do it anyway? Absolutely.

And I can already tell that this horse is the small-town superstar quarterback that everyone and their mother has told is a winner since the moment he was born. He’s perfectly bred, but he knows it, and that may be his downfall or his triumph. Only time will tell.

“Probably run you more like 1.2 or 1.3,” I say as I move to greet him.

He’s wonderful. He isn’t my girl, but I could definitely help make him a winner.

“I’ve received five texts from Nash this morning telling me to pay any price. He says his main contribution to help is with the upfront costs of the horse, so ‘go big or go home,’” Wade says with air quotes.

I smile. For being the non-emotional ex-hockey player that pretends he only really likes CeCe, that man has a heart of gold and his love for this family is unmatched.

“Well alright, let’s spend his money than, shall we?” I ask, a mischievous grin playing on my lips.

Wade grins back. He is a sight this morning. It’s a wonder I made it out of that hotel room alive today when he wandered out of the bathroom in perfectly fitting jeans, a flannel and a thick Carhartt jacket, running his hands through his damp hair from the shower and smelling like the clean spice of his aftershave. Everything about Wade is big, manly and rugged. It takes everything in me not to stare at him and just simmer in the faces he makes, or the way his jaw works as he speaks, even the deep sound of his voice—

“We shall. You have a look down the next row. I’ll go make sure we’re registered for tomorrow’s auction and double-check our seats,” he speaks, interrupting my little daydream of him.

I nod and point to the row where I’ll be when he’s done. Taking in the horses as I pass them, any one of these could do it for us, any one of them could be our winner. I just have to believe I’m good enough to get them there.

“Ivy.”

I freeze.

That voice.Instantly, the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I’d know it anywhere. I especially remember the last time I heard it, an inch from my face as its owner stood over me, seething, an evil look in his eye that I’ll never forget. I pray I’m just imagining things.

“Ivy Grace.” Again.

Fuck.

I close my eyes and take one deep breath before I turn around to face him, silently willing myself not to murder him before I even have the chance to help Wade choose a beautiful new horse.

“Brad,” I say, bracing myself for a fight, hoping I can get rid of him before Wade comes back.

“What are you doing here?”

Why am I asking? I don’t care.

“I’m here looking at another stud to breed with Mona Lisa,” he answers, looking at me almost like he’s seen a ghost as he mentions one of his ranch’s prized mares. His hat comes off and he runs a hand through his dark blond hair.

He starts coming closer, and my fists ball up at my sides.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He’s all soft and sweet, the way he always was for a time after we fought. It was how he gaslit me into thinking I overreacted to his behaviors.

“You haven’t answered me or my family. All I’ve wanted to do is talk. After you … lost it that night, I realized why you’d think I’d try to hurt you and I forgave you. It took me a while but you don’t have to be ashamed anymore. I really miss you. I’m not the enemy here, Ivy, all I’ve ever done is love you.”

I throw a silent prayer up.

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