Page 32 of Saddled in Secrets
That surprises me and it must show on my face. She huffs, looking anywhere but at me. Several of her dogs provide an adequate distraction. A full minute passes as she pets them and avoids me.
“I’ll own that I’m a passenger princess at heart,” she grumbles eventually.
“Nobody would assume otherwise.”
Bianca reaches for the pickup’s door handle, but pauses when I grab her bag and head toward the barn. “Where are you going?”
“We’re taking mine.” The fully restored 1979 F-350 gleams under the morning sun like a beacon.
Her eyes bulge at the glorious sight. “You’re going to pull my trailer with your relic? I figured you were just testing the wiring.”
“Horses are already loaded.” Which could be considered a warning sign, but she’s too caught up on my choice of vehicle.
“Doesn’t that go against a collector code or something?”
My boots crunch over gravel, which mimics the sound of me stomping on her argument. “A truck is meant to haul. That doesn’t change with age. Reliable, remember?”
Bianca’s lips part, the memory washing over her shocked expression. “Wait, this is the same truck?”
And that goes to show how little we’ve interacted over the years. It’s been mostly me sticking to the shadows to keep an eye on her. If not for that pesky habit, we’d be strangers.
“Doesn’t look as rough, huh?”
Her gaze wanders over the green custom paint with new appreciation. “Uh-huh, sure doesn’t. That makes this even worse. I’m not responsible for any damages. It’s your risk to take.”
“Don’t sell Fern short. She’ll take us wherever we wanna go and won’t put up a fuss.”
Bianca slams to a stop beside me. “Fern?”
A sweeping motion acknowledges the vintage beauty in front of us in case there’s any confusion. “You’re about to get officially acquainted.”
She blinks at me slowly, as if this news is difficult to process. “You named your truck?”
“Of course.”
A smile crawls across her lips until she’s full-on beaming. “That’s almost cute, Cowboy. Who knew you had it in ya?”
“Cute?”
“Do you prefer adorable?”
That doesn’t deserve a response. Instead, I dump her bag in the living quarters portion of the horse trailer. Mine is already in there, along with everything else we’ll need. Bianca is quiet and doesn’t question me again. She’s too busy gawking at Fern’scustom cowhide upholstery from the open passenger door. Two dogs flank her, whining for permission to hop in.
“There isn’t room for them,” I say while rounding the hood.
“I noticed.” She remains still, staring at the solo bench that stretches across the cab.
“They sure as shit don’t make ‘em like they used to, huh?”
“It’s beautiful.” Her breathy voice is like a light switch, turning me on with a quick flick.
“She,” I croak.
“Oh, right.” There’s a hint of pink coloring her cheeks when she glances at me. “I love what you’ve done with her.”
“We’ve been through a lot together.”
“Gettin’ sentimental on me too? Jeez, I better be careful or you’ll grow on me.”
