Page 29 of Sugar
“Huh. I don’t remember it.”
I look at her through slitted eyes. “You were never here to work. You came here to . . .” The words trail off as my neck heats.
She smiles. “Idefinitelyremember the rec room.”
I’m not sure how to respond. Refocusing on the whiteboard, I see Biscuit, Knight, and Oreo are all scheduled for training today and haven’t been marked as being pulled yet. Wells and I should be able to finish up in the next hour or two.
“What does all this mean?” Ava asks, scanning the board with names of horses listed in different colors.
“It’s how we keep track of who needs what,” I tell her. “Names in red are horses with specific medical needs. Bluemeans they’re new. This,” I say and point to the list of days beside each name, “shows when we need to pull them for training.”
“What does training entail?”
I shrug. “Basics. Getting them used to being saddled if they aren’t already. Making sure they’re good with a rider. Some of them will go off for more advanced training to work with kids or veterans, so it’s our job to make sure they’re capable.”
“Wow,” Ava breathes out. “Impressive.”
I turn to look at her again. “We love what we do. It’s hard work, and there always seems to be something going wrong. But this is my family’s livelihood.”
Her eyes soften. “We’re not going to let him take it, Kasey.”
I shouldn’t be surprised that she knew where my thoughts were taking me. If Uncle Huck takes control of this place, there’s no telling all the ways he’d dismantle our mission to save horses, to give them purpose. Breathing in deep, I let out a loud exhale. “Yeah, well. Better get to it.”
CHAPTER NINE
AVA
“Oh my god, I love this song,” Layla squeals across the table, spinning in her stool to see who requested Trisha Yearwood’s “She’s in Love With the Boy” at the jukebox on the other side of the bar. Wells meets her gaze where he stands next to it, smirking, holding a hand out to show her a small pile of quarters in his palm. He shoots her a wink.
“Gross,” I whine.
Layla laughs, blowing him a kiss. “He’s pretty great.”
“Exactly my point.”
Layla turns back to me, eyes flashing, her dark curls framing her pretty face. “Don’t tell me you’re one ofthosetypes,” she says, still grinning.
“What types?”
“You know . . . the ‘good guys are so boring’ and ‘I love toxic bad boys’ type.”
Holding a hand over my heart, I let out a teasing scoff. “You’ve only known me for like, five minutes, and you’re accusing me of being attracted to toxic men?”
She shrugs. “I’ve knownofyou since middle school. When you skipped town, everyone lost their shit. I remember Maeve working herself into a tizzy trying to figure out where you went.”
I can’t help but grimace. “Perks of small-town living, huh? Everyone thinks your business is their business.”
Her eyes roll. “Girl, I know all about it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” She tilts her head. “Do you know how Wells and I got together?”
I shake my head. “No clue. Why?”
Her eyes widen, like this truly surprises her. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. You haven’t been here.” She leans in closer. “I planned on marrying his best friend.”
“No way!” Layla might wear shit kickers around the ranch, but she’s got the poise of a prim and proper southern lady. I’d never expect a scandal like that involving her.
