Page 111 of Stables

“Soph, I’ll send Sawyer over to help you with Misty.” Mason stares for a moment at Dixon, then turns towards the dying fire.

“Thanks, Dad,” she calls after him.

She turns her roan mare so she’s near me. “Char, I can’t tell you how nice it is that you’re here. This woulda taken ten times longer without you. Any chance you can watch me on barrels tomorrow for some pointers?” She rolls her blue eyes with a smirk. “These guys just don’t have the feel for barrel racing. I’d appreciate your expert opinion on where I can improve.”

The heat in my cheeks intensifies. “I’d love to see you in action. I’ve heard you’re destined for a buckle.”

“Screw that, I wanna go to Vegas, baby!” She digs in her heels making Misty leap into a gallop, leaving us in a cloying cloud of dust.

I’m already filthy, I doubt I’d notice another layer.

She aims for the open gate, then cuts to the right to head towards the front main barn.

I’m still in awe that there was a completely empty one that had plenty of room for all my horses.

Tugging the reins, I aim Juniper for her temporary home. “Libby, we shouldn’t be long. I’m glad you could make it out.”

“Take your time. It’s a beautiful day.” She winks at me.

Lori nods, and makes little Jack wave too.

Dixon lines his black gelding up to trot next to me. “So, I have to ask. Where in the hell did you learn to ride like that?” A grin pulls up the end of his mustache.

A warm feeling settles into my chest, but I shrug it off. “Just grew up with it.”

His dark brows lower over the caramel of his eyes. “Unlikely. Did you compete?” He beats me to the hitch in the barn and hops off his horse. Stepping around it, he loops my rein around the post and reaches up to me.

“A little,” I say shyly.

But when I flip my leg over and slide into his firm grip, he holds me in the air, his eyes on my waist. “Barrel racing champion, huh?” Dropping me gently, his fingers wrap around the gilded buckle on my belt, lifting me enough that my toes barely skiff the dirt.

“Why is it that I’m more proud of you, than you are?” He tightens his pull until my jeans snug into my crotch. “You had to work really fucking hard to earn this,” he growls. “Sophia hasn’t even gotten one yet.”

My palms rest on his wide chest. I can feel his heart racing beneath the muscles. “She will. I know she’s going to make it all the way.”

His dark eyes squeeze shut and his jaw ticks.

With flaring nostrils, he takes a deep breath before he looks at me again. “Sheisn’t the point.” Both of his rough hands come up to cup my cheeks. “Youare. I wish you could see what I see.” His whiskers tickle as he presses his lips to mine.

I’m not that girl anymore.

It’s been years since I competed. I was still in high school. How do I tell Dixon it didn’t matter how good I was? No one wanted to sponsor me because of who my father was?

That after he died, my mom never had the money for me to compete, so I had to quit?

I thought I had a new purpose when I met Matt, using what little life insurance money I got from Mom’s death to buy my first horses to train.

Do I tell Dix that the thought of what could have been if I’d been able to keep racing sent me spiraling into a pit of self loathing.

Because I was stuck with Matt.

And no one but Libby cared to check on me.

What do I say? That until I met Dixon, I never thought that there could be a better way? That any hopes and dreams that I had of every doing anything butfucking struggle,I had abandoned?

“Hey.” He scoops me up, cradling me against him as he carries me over to a bale of hay by the feeder. “Where the hell did you go there?” Sitting, he pulls me close, tilting the bill of my hat back to watch me.

I find myself shaking my head. “So much has changed since then. I’m a different person,” I say quietly, distracting myself by patting some of the dirt from my leg.