Page 14 of Falling for Love

I ran a hand through my hair and let out a frustrated sigh.

Evie was hard to read.

I’ve been trying to get to know her for months, offering to help when I could and texting her here and there.

She’d been polite but distant.

I’d pretty much figured she wasn’t interested, that maybe she wasn’t ready for anything beyond raising Hayden and wrangling her clients with four hooves.

Watching Evie work as a farrier was something else. She moved with a quiet confidence that left me speechless every time she came to the lodge. There was nothing flashy about what she did, no showy movements or over-the-top gestures. It was just her, completely in tune with the horses, like they spoke a language only she understood.

Evie had this way of running her hands down a horse’s leg, her touch firm but gentle that made even the most restless animals settle.

And watching Evie was always calming. It wasn’t magic, but it might as well have been. The skittish gelding I’d seen buck just about everyone off his back last summer now stood perfectly still under her care, his ears swiveling toward her voice like she’d cast some spell.

And the rescue farm we ran at Honey Leaf Lodge brought in all kinds of animals that needed love, kindness, and empathy.

Evie’s focus was something to behold: the way she shaped a shoe with precision, her brow furrowed slightly, the smallest smile tugging at her lips when she got it just right.

She cared—really cared—about these horses, and it showed in every movement, every decision she made.

And me? I couldn’t look away.

Whenever I needed to call her for an appointment, it was like Christmas.

I always tried to keep it casual when I dropped by our barn, offering to help hold a lead rope or fetch her tools. But truth be told, I just wanted to be around her. Something about how she carried herself drew me in.

She wasn’t just good at what she did—she was incredible. And every time I watched her, I fell a little harder.

But she was different. She had her own set of rules. When she finally accepted one of my invites out to dinner, she made me bring my sister. And that was fine since my sister moved to a different booth later that evening with a guy she hated to like or liked to hate.

I even managed to meet Evie for coffee after one of her appointments. I felt like I had won the jackpot when she finally let me buy her a latte. All she did was touch my hand as she took it from me, and I was a goner for the rest of the day.

Yet, that gave me all the encouragement I needed.

Until she had an excuse every time I asked her out since.

I wasn’t sure if she’d ever let me in. She kept people at arm’s length, and I got it—she’d been through a lot.

Not that I knew about any of it.

We’d never gotten that far.

But seeing her like this tonight, completely in her element, made me hope she might give me a chance someday.

Just the thought of her being so tiny and able to run her business as a farrier turned me on like nothing I’d ever experienced. Judging by how well she handled horses, she could take down most men twice her size.

But tonight felt different. It was the way her eyes lingered on me a second longer than usual, the way she laughed at my jokes, the way she seemed to lean into the moment, just enough to give me hope.

Before I could overanalyze it further, the front door swung open, and Fifi walked in, balancing a large tote bag on one arm and a half-empty iced coffee in her other hand. Her bright scarf was askew, and her hair, as always, looked like the wind had styled it. My sister had a knack for the dramatic.

“Seriously, you need to start locking your door,” she announced, dropping the bag onto the couch. “One of these days, you’re going to walk in here and find me eating all your snacks.”

I gave her a look. “You already do that.”

“True,” she said, grinning as she went to the kitchen. She eyed the hard cider in my hand. “Uh-oh. What’s the occasion? You look like someone stole your favorite fishing rod.”

“Not a big deal,” I said, shrugging as I set the bottle down.

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