Page 172 of Jensen
“He’s with Bittern and Janie,” she says. “It’s date night for us.”
That’s her brother and his wife, who live out on Ryder Ranch. I climb down the steps, walking up to where Deacon fusses with something in the back of the truck.
“What brings you all up here on date night then?” I ask.
“Deacon’s got that filly Jensen wanted,” Freya says, jerking her head at the silver trailer.
I put my hands on my hips.
“He didn’t tell me about no filly,” I say, frowning. “Who’s the filly for?”
“Fuck if I know,” says Deacon, sauntering around the trailer and unlatching the door. “Don’t shoot the messenger, shoot your damn husband.”
Freya and I follow him, keeping back so he can swing the door open wide. Inside, there’s a chestnut horse with white socks blinking in the sunlight.
“Oh, she’s pretty,” I say.
“Pretty expensive,” says Jensen, appearing out of nowhere with Landis glued to him like usual. My son stares up at the horse but doesn’t reach for it. He knows better now that Jensen has taught him the ropes of staying safe on the ranch.
“Hey now, you got a friends and family discount,” says Deacon, leading the filly down and out of the trailer. She looks around, ears swiveling.
“What’s she for?” I ask.
Jensen’s hand rests on my waist. “She’s for you, baby.”
“For me?”
He nods. “I was up at Ryder Ranch the other week and saw Deacon working with her. Thought she looked like she might be your horse.”
My jaw is on the floor. I set my coffee aside and step up to the filly, holding my palm out flat. Of course, I rode a little back home, but not enough to warrant having a horse all to myself. She dips her head and sniffs my hand, nuzzling it with her prickly nose. The late afternoon sun hits her just right, making her hair glow red.
“She’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“Yeah, she’s one of my best this year,” says Deacon.
Jensen puts his hand on my elbow. My heart melts in my chest, but I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of Deacon and Freya by crying.
“Y’all want to stay for dinner?” I ask, clearing my throat.
“Nah, there’s a new place in town Freya wanted to check out,” says Deacon. “But we’ll be by Sunday night to check on the filly. We can stay then.”
“Deacon, don’t invite yourself,” Freya chides.
Jensen laughs. “You know you can come by anytime.”
I’m distracted by the filly, a little relieved they aren’t staying tonight. Inside, I’m overwhelmed. Of course, Jensen has gotten me plenty of things over the last year, the rock glittering on my finger chief among them, but there’s something so sweet about this filly. Knowing he saw her and thought of me has me choked up.
“We better go, speaking of,” says Freya.
They pile into the truck, leaving us with the filly. On the way out, Deacon hits the gatepost with the edge of the trailer tire, and Jensen has to go over to inspect it. Landis follows, imitating the way they’re both standing with their hands on their hips. They talk for another twenty minutes. I run my hand down the filly’s neck. She’s blinking, looking around the ranch.
Bored with waiting, I take her into the barn. There are a few open stalls at the back, one with pasture access. I clip her to the mounting station and fix up one of the stalls so she can be comfortable until we decide where we want her to stay for good. Then, carefully because she’s young, I lead her into the stall and slip her halter off, standing back to give her space.
She snorts, dipping her head. Sunlight filters in through the window, catching her brilliant coat.
“You like her, baby?”
I look up to find Jensen leaning on the door, hat pulled low. Lord, him doing sweet things for me gets me more fired up than when he talks dirty, trying to get me upstairs. I go to him, tilting my head back so he can kiss me. He tastes a little bit like the gum between his back teeth.
