Page 41 of Open Arms

“Chlo, you are so shy at first, but your sense of humor is a stealth attack, I swear,” Eryn said, her amber eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Like a ninja?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” Caroline agreed. “A humor ninja.”

“Silent but deadly,” I added, deadpan. The room erupted into howls of laughter.

“Okay, Chloe, your turn,” Eryn urged, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

“Alright,” I started, the game pulling me further out of my shell. “I’m terrified of clowns, I can recite every line from ‘The Princess Bride’, and I once went skinny dipping in the town fountain.”

“God, I hope the last one’s the lie,” Caroline blurted out, her cheeks flushing a shade that rivaled her hair.

“Is it weird that I want that one to be true?” Eryn pondered, tilting her head.

“Very weird,” I assured her with a grin. “And yes, that’s the lie. But the night is young!”

“Thank heavens for small mercies,” Sutton sighed dramatically, to more laughter.

“Okay, I don’t know about you ladies, but I could use another round,” Eryn said, standing gracefully.

“Careful, Eryn,” I warned, “or we might end up testing my fountain theory.”

“Only if you’re leading the charge, Chlo,” Sutton said, winking at me.

“Let’s save that for a night when we’re feeling particularly rebellious—and waterproof,” I shot back, the corners of my lips twitching upward.

As we refilled our glasses and settled back into our cozy nook of female solidarity, I found myself thinking that maybe, just maybe, this town could become a place where I wasn’t just the girl with scars and a past too heavy to carry alone. Here, with these women, I felt lighter, braver, and ready to face whatever came next.

“Here’s to humor ninjas,” I toasted, lifting my glass.

“And to friendship that feels like coming home,” Eryn added, her voice as soft as a promise.

“Cheers to that,” they echoed, and we drank deep.

I knew I’d be hungover tomorrow, but it would be worth it.

17

Mason

I leaned against the fence,watching Walker guide the chestnut mare through a series of gentle paces. The horse’s coat gleamed in the late afternoon sun, muscles rolling like liquid under her skin. Walker had a handle on equine therapy like no one else, and it was something to see.

“Damn, he’s good,” I murmured, more to myself than to Gray who stood beside me, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Sure is,” Gray agreed, tipping his cowboy hat back slightly to get a better look. “Horses just calm down around him.”

“Like magic,” I added, the corner of my mouth lifting as Walker effortlessly led the horse into a trot, her gait smoothing out with each step. “Glad you finally changed your mind and let him do his thing.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gray wasn’t one to admit when we was wrong, so that was about as good as I knew I’d get. He was dead against Walker heading up a new division on the ranch, because, well, Walk had a tendency of never following through with much. But he’d changed, and he’d proven himself.

The two of us fell silent for a moment, the only sounds thoseof the ranch – distant calls of other workers, the clink of metal from the barn, the soft thud of hooves on dirt.

Gray broke the silence, turning his blue gaze on me. “You know, Mase, you’ve looked a helluva lot less stressed these days.”

“Have I?” My gaze flicked to him, pretending to be surprised. It wasn’t news to me; I felt it in my bones, the ease that hadn’t been there for years.

“Yep.” He nodded once, firmly. “Seems hiring Chloe was a damn fine idea.”

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