Page 39 of Christmas at the Ranch
WhatdoI want? I have never understood that when it comes to Tate Wilder.
But now, today, in the present, he has nothing to give me. He has Mariella. He has the ranch, which needs his full attention. What I want, whether I’m fully aware of it or not, doesn’t matter.
He releases me from his gaze and I exhale with relief. He looks out the window at the darkening street. I look, too, at the snow caught in the lamplight, and a shop owner across the street hanging Christmas lights on the eaves of his store with great care. The man climbs down the ladder and stands back to observe his handiwork, nodding with pride before going inside.
“There is a way you can help, okay?” Tate says, snapping me out of my reverie. “Charlie’s right. You were good on Star. She took to you. She wasn’t perfect, obviously. I mean, she threw you in a snowbank.” Now he smiles that crooked smile and it sparks a warmth in my core. “But she hasn’t been that calm with anyone in ages. It would be great to get Star back to the way she once was, with your help.”
“You mean, you actually want me to ride her again?”
“With certain parameters, yes.”
“Such as?”
“Me as your riding coach. Could you handle that?”
“You telling me what to do?” I laugh. “Probably not. But I’d love to help Star.”
I say this sincerely. I feel so relieved to be able to say it at all—and realize the relief is also coming from the knowledge that I get to go back to Wilder Ranch. Iwant to see Star again. Charlie, too. And Tate. I can’t help it. Even if he’s not mine, and never will be.
“I really would,” I say. “Maybe I could even get her ready enough for the Starlight Ride next week.”
“Now, that would probably take a Christmas miracle,” Tate says, shaking his head. “Christmas Eve is less than a week away. And Star is a unique case. Prematurely born horses may seem perfectly healthy—and she is, don’t get me wrong. But her processing isn’t quite the same as other horses’.”
“Charlie told me,” I murmur.
“Yeah. I’ve noticed this with her before, only it’s never been this bad. But you can at least help get her started on the right track again before you leave town.”
Before you leave town. Those words hurt, for reasons I don’t let myself explore. I try to focus on the positives. I focus on Star.
“There’s nothing I’d rather do than help Star.” I know I mean this, at least.
“Then it’s settled,” Tate says. “You’ll come back to Wilder’s a few times while you’re here. To ride Star.”
“To ride Star,” I repeat.
He glances down at his watch. “Charlie was out picking something up in my truck, but he’s coming through town to get me in a few minutes. I have to go.”
He pulls out his wallet, but Mya calls for him to put his money away before her parents catch him trying to pay for a meal that was supposed to be their holiday treat.
“Does tomorrow afternoon work? Three-ish?”
“I’ll be there,” I tell him.
He stands and crosses the room, trying once more to pay as Mya laughs and waves him off. “Stop being such a gentleman all the time, Tate Wilder!”
He laughs and leaves the restaurant. A part of me thinks he’ll look back at me through the window. But he doesn’t.
Dear Diary,
Tate.
TATE.
TATE!!!
I’m…I don’t know if I can say this, let alone write it. But I will anyway, because it’s you: I think I’m in love with him. So many times, I’ve come close to saying it. Can you imagine? We’ve only known each other a week, but it feels like a lifetime. And what a lifetime it has been. Especially with Star being born, having that incredible experience together, I just feel so close to him…
I’m scared, of course. What do I know about love?
