Page 65 of His Tenth Dance

She hadn’t put anything on the horse. No saddle. No rope. She just wanted to get Lady out of the medical stall where she’d been for a month now, with limited and supervised visits to a closed, small pasture without any other equines.

Today, though, Kristie wanted to see how Lady’s month of stall rest and medical care had helped her heal. Her wound had looked good all week, and Kristie had some news for the horse she wanted Lady to know.

Finally, Lady moved forward slowly, her big head making it out of the stall ahead of her strong shoulders and body.

“Lookin’ good, Lady,” Mission said, and Kristie moved her attention to her boyfriend for a moment. “Hardly a limp at all.”

Lady still limped plenty, but Kristie had her in a padded support boot, and as long as they moved slowly and kept her calm, she should be fine. Lady shook her head and huffed at Mission, but she veered toward him all the same. He chuckled as he ran his hands down both sides of her face. “Yeah, you’re out, girl. Lookin’ so good too.”

Kristie wanted to observe Lady from various positions, so she nodded at Mission, who started along their predetermined path. Apparently, a bunkhouse sat a couple hundred yards away from the back of these buildings, and Mission had suggested they could walk Lady there and come back.

Good grass back there too, he’d said.She’ll be so spoiled, she won’t eat anything we give her again.

Kristie trailed behind, watching Lady find her gait and stay at Mission’s shoulder. He didn’t talk to her, and Kristie dictated some notes on Lady’s progress, then tucked her phone away and moved to join Mission.

She caught his hand as she matched her step to his, and he glanced at her. “Satisfied?”

“She’s doing really well,” Kristie said. “I’m a little surprised, actually. I thought the wound was far worse than it seems to be.”

“Maybe she just has a really great vet.” He kicked her a grin, and Kristie shook her head.

She believed any vet would do for Lady what she’d done, but she accepted the compliment. “I turned in my application today.”

“I was just going to ask.”

She bumped him with her hip. “You were not.”

Mission laughed, something he didn’t let loose and do very often. “The deadline is tomorrow, though, and I would’ve definitely asked before the day ended.”

“Well, now you won’t have to,” Kristie said. “I wanted you—and Lady—to know.”

“What did you decide to bake?”

“The apple crumble.”

“But it’s not called a crumble.”

“Of course it is,” she said. “It’s a spiced apple chaicrumbletartwith maple glaze.”

“Oh, holy horses,” Mission said between chortles.

“I’m going to practice tonight, and you should come try it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Satisfaction drove through Kristie, because she’d love to have Mission taste-test her desserts. “Lennie, Jocelyn, and Harper all confirmed they entered, and there’s no way I can beat them. But it’s okay. They give out a lot of blue ribbons.”

“I’ll make you a blue ribbon any day you want, kitten.”

Warmth and love tugged through Kristie, because Mission didn’t say idle words. “I might take you up on that if I don’t get anything.”

“You’ll get the biggest, most ribboniest ribbon at the fair.” He grinned over to her, and Kristie wished she had his confidence. “Whose recipe are you using?”

Kristie had told him once—once—that she loved looking through old recipe books and using family recipes. They didn’t have to beherfamily recipes either. She just liked thinking she was using a well-loved, well-tested recipe that another human being had once labored over. She really liked thinking of these faceless, nameless people as she baked. Then it wasn’t just an apple crumble tart, but so much more.

“This one came from my aunt’s husband’s mother.”

“That’s quite the branch in the family tree,” he said.

---