Page 65 of Until Then

We wave, and I assure her I’ll have the copies of the book next week. Chase already sent me ten to give to friends and family. Rees claimed his before he went home.

Hayley jabs my ribs with her elbow when they’re well down the lane. “You are an unexpected surprise, Pretty Boy.”

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” I say, and there isn’t a lie to be found.

“Hmm. Needy. I kind of like it.” Hayley glances down at her jeans, then to mine. “You know, you’re sort of dressed right. What do you say before I change, you prove your cowboy skills? Want to go for a ride?”

I’m almost embarrassed how the idea of horseback riding with Hayley Foster makes me squeal like a toddler. “Do I want to ride horses with a sexy woman, alone? I think you’ve just described my lifelong dream. If I die, it’s because I’ve gone out happy.”

She snickers. “Don’t die yet. I’m not finished with you.”

NINETEEN

Hayley

There is something calming about the back of a horse, away from the world, with nothing but a fading sun in the distance.

This was my calm, my peace, whenever I argued with my mom, or saw a new film release with Shane Holston’s name somewhere in the credits. Here, I could forget stresses for a time and simply exist somewhere sweeter, quieter.

Normally, rides are done alone, but for some reason I blurted out the invitation for Noah to join, and I’m not certain I’ll ever go back.

Throughout the journey up the hills around the ranch, Noah handles Winter with ease and confidence. Nearly a decade on set with horses and swords has lent him a good hold on a bridle. But it’s the smaller moments. Those moments when he’s quiet and pensive, like he knows I need to spend a bit of solitude in my own head for a second.

Maybe he needs the same.

It’s the way he keeps pace next to me, always listening with earnest interest when I point out landmarks on the property.

My favorite is watching Noah speak for Winter. Full on conversations when the horse attempts to go off path or graze ina field. Noah gives his command, then grumbles a response in a different voice, assuming it’s Winter’s inner monologue.

Every ab muscle aches from laughing by the time we reach the fence line at the top of the hill.

We both dismount, Noah winces and rubs his thighs, but helps tie off the two horses on a post.

“My butt is going to hate me tomorrow,” he says through a sigh and takes a seat beside me.

All around is golden grass, gently waving in the California breeze. I hug my knees against my chest and look down at the ranch below.

Noah reclines onto his palms, crossing his ankles in front of him. “You’re good at what you do, Wildfire. Truly.”

I peer over my shoulder, a discreet smile on my face. “Thank you.”

“Our little agreement aside, I truly want to help out the ranch. It’s a good thing you’re trying to do. Was there anything else you dreamed of doing?”

I shadow his position, inching close enough to his side our shoulders brush. “There is a piece we’ve considered doing for a bit. My grandpa was a veteran and he had a lot of buddies from the Army who suffered with PTSD and major injuries. He always wanted to divvy a portion of the ranch to a full week experience for wounded veterans and their families. They could work the ranch, participate in activities, maybe have a concert night or something. Maybe they’d find some healing with other vets and therapeutic riding.”

Noah is quiet for a long pause. “Would you want to expand it to veterans and first responders too?”

He’s . . . brainstorming with me? Jasper always changed the subject of ranch projects unless I was ever open to the idea of leasing to studios again.

He treated Sweet Cream like it was beneath him.

I pop one shoulder. “I never thought of it, but why not? That would be amazing.”

“I ask because Perfectly Broken does an entire concert event for first responders. Bridger’s dad was a firefighter, and you know good old Lee Hayden was a cop. They might be able to promote it at their concert. Maybe offer a donation to help cover the costs for people. Unless the families were going to pay for the week.”

“See.” I face him, folding my legs under my body. “That’s where I wasn’t sure how to do it. How do I pay employees if we don’t actually earn money? Should it be a full non-profit and run on volunteers and donations? Maybe we make it a once a year thing, like the concert?” I shrug again. “I don’t know. There’s a lot to consider.”

“But I think it’s a good thingtoconsider.” Noah straightens and, without hesitating, takes hold of my hand. “You’re trying to make a difference, Hayley. And I really think you can. I’d love to be part of it.”

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