Page 60 of Nate

“Alright. It’s your choice.”

“I’d be too embarrassed.”

“Sweetheart, there isn’t an inch of you I haven’t seen.” He laughed when she swatted her hand at him.

They stepped into a small foyer, and he heard Markie gasp. He had to admit, it was a great house. It wasn’t big, but it was perfect for him.

“How many bedrooms?”

“Two, along with two full baths, living room, kitchen with a breakfast nook, and mudroom/laundry room.”

“I love the wooden beams across the ceiling.” She walked toward the patio doors centered on the back wall and gazed out. He followed her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“The pool looks so inviting,” she said.

“Do you want to swim now or later?”

“Maybe after we fish.”

“Okay. Let me change, then we’ll head to the main barn. That’s where the ATVs are kept.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

“I’ll be right back.” He walked to his bedroom, stripped out of his clothes, then pulled on old, worn jeans, and a white T-shirt. He pulled his boots on, then left the room to head back toward the kitchen.

Nate saw Markie staring out at the pool.

“Are you sure you don’t want to swim now?”

“I’m sure. I’m anxious to do some fishing. What kind of lures do you have?”

“Just about any you can think of. There’s a container of worms in the fridge. I just got them the other day.”

“Okay. Let’s do this, then.” She smiled.

Nate nodded and they walked out to the truck, got in and drove them to the barn. He stopped the truck at the back door. They both got out and he took her hand as they entered the barn.

“It always smells good in a barn. To me, anyway,” she said.

“Me too. It’s the combination of horses, leather, and hay.”

He led her down the barn’s aisle and stopped in front of a stall.

“This is Mystic. He’s a six-year-old American Paint, but you probably know that.”

“Yes, I read his chart. He is just gorgeous. I love a gray and white Paint. I thought he was just beautiful when I first saw him. When I was here to give them their vaccines. Those blue eyes are so pretty.” Markie looked at Nate. “Like yours.”

“He’s a good horse.” Nate reached between the bars on the gate to rub the horse’s nose.

“Hey, boy. You are one gorgeous animal,” Markie said in a low voice as she rubbed her hand down the horse’s face. “I thought you kept him in your barn?”

“I do, but I like to let him run some days, so I’ll keep him here for a while.”

“How did you come up with his name?”

“It’s one of my mother’s favorite songs,Into the Mystic, by Van Morrison.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard it.”

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