LITMIR.BIZ

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his tone sounded displeased. “That’s just pride. Give him time.”

      Time for what? She didn’t want to be saddled down with an employee who didn’t want to be here. But this wasn’t the time to discuss that.

      After breakfast, Mr. Vern drove her down the sloping gravel road, his radio playing a jangly gospel tune. Mr. Vern wore a dusty trucker’s hat, and he chewed on a toothpick as he drove.

      “So left, we’ve got the cattle barns—you can see them, right? The big modern silver ones. Those are used for some calving, injured animals and the like. For the most part, the cattle spend their days in the field. I’ll bring you down there later if Casey hasn’t got the time.”

      The older man followed the road right, heading away from the cattle barns and toward that picturesque red barn bathed in golden morning sunlight.

      “There’s four hundred acres in total—that includes the forest as well as the pasture. I know you’re not interested in raising cattle, but the property includes about two hundred head that we’ve raised for market. So you’d have at least one market run. Casey would be able to fill you in on the finer details there, of course.”

      “Where are we going?” Ember asked.

      “To the horse barn,” Mr. Vern said. “We’ve got twenty-two horses at present. Our ranch hands use them when they check on herds and that sort of thing. Now, there are three horses that belong to Casey personally, and another two that I’m not willing to part with. But the other seventeen are included in the sale.”

      “Are they good for trail rides?” she asked.

      “About five are gentle enough for newbies, but the others need a more experienced hand,” he admitted. “I can sell off the others first, if you want. Just to save you the trouble later.”

      “We’d have to talk about that,” she agreed with a nod.

      “Some ranches like to use quads for checking the herd, but I’ve stuck to the tried and true. We’ve got a paddock, and since you mention trail riding, we’ve got some good trails, too.” They rattled over a pothole, and Mr. Vern shot her a grin. “If you do buy this land, miss, you’re going to need a solid truck. I’m a Ford man, myself.”

      Ember could see the wisdom in those words. Her car had already shown that it would be jolted right apart on some of these roads. But as they crested a hill, her to-do list melted away at the sight.

      Green field rolled out beneath them, fence posts running like lines of neat stitches across the verdant plains. Some horses were grazing—one tiny foal trailing close to its mother. The red barn stood out in comforting contrast to the rest of the scene, and Ember felt all that tension seep out of her body. They eased down the road toward the red barn, and as the truck came to a stop out front, a door opened and Casey looked out. He was dressed in a pair of jeans, a button-down shirt and a padded vest. He pushed his cowboy hat back on his head and raised a gloved hand in a wave.

      “Have a good day,” Mr. Vern said. “If you have any questions, Casey’s the one to ask. Like I said, stubborn lout or not, that man is worth keeping around. Mark my words.”

      Ember thanked him and hopped out of the truck. Casey waited for her at the door, holding it open for her. His dark gaze followed her as she approached, and she felt heat rise in her cheeks. It was different out here—on a ranch, away from the city. Everything seemed more basic, more pared down. And when a man’s gaze followed her like that, it was harder to ignore.

      “Good morning,” he said. “Bert’s with the babies, so we’ve got some time.”

      “Is he getting paid for that?” Ember asked, stepping past Casey’s broad chest and into the warm, fragrant barn. Dust motes danced in the air in front of her, and her nose tickled. High windows let in squares of morning sunlight, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

      “Of course,” Casey said, slamming the door shut. “He’s getting overtime. Most expensive childcare ever. I asked if his wife might be interested, but she’s got her hands full with her elderly mother, so...”

      Casey led the way down the center of the barn. Most of the stalls were empty. He paused at one stall and held a hand out toward a horse’s velvet nose. The horse nudged his hand and nickered.

      “How much riding experience do you have?” Casey asked, glancing back at her. Again, that dark look trained on her face in that way that made her feel slightly self-conscious.

      “None,” she admitted.

      “Okay, so not Captain, then,” he said, moving on. “Captain is fast and strong, but he needs an experienced rider.”

      “That’s not me,” she agreed. “Can’t we drive?”

      “Drive?” Casey turned toward her again, his eyebrows raised. “Not where I’m headed. Why—you scared of horses or something?”

      “No, I just thought—” She didn’t know what she was thinking. She’d rather feel more in control.

      “You don’t have to come along, you know,” Casey said. “I’m going to check a gate latch out toward Milk River. You said you were interested in that area—”

      “No, I want to come along,” she interrupted. “I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

      “I’ll let you ride Patience here. She’s gentle.”

      That sounded a little better, and Ember watched as Casey led a brown mare from her stall and stroked her glossy neck.

      “Good morning, girl,” Casey murmured. “You up for a ride today?”

      Ember leaned against a rail as she watched Casey saddle the horse. He worked quickly, all the while talking softly to the animal.

      “Mr. Vern mentioned that five of the horses would be suited for trail rides with clients,” Ember said.

      “Patience isn’t included in the sale. She’s mine,” Casey said when he’d finished. “I bought her myself about ten years ago.”

      “Oh.” Ember nodded quickly. “Of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be presumptuous.”

      “Never mind. Come around front. You can pet her and introduce yourself.”

      Ember circled around to the front of the horse and looked up into those gentle, liquid eyes.

      “Hello,” Ember said softly.

      “Now, let me help you mount,” Casey said. “Here. Foot in this stirrup. Can you reach? Hold on.” He grabbed a wooden box and put it down next to the horse. “Stand on this. Now, foot in the stirrup.”

      Ember did as he instructed.

      “Hand on the pommel—There,” Casey coached. “Now, up and swing that leg over.”

      It wasn’t exactly graceful, but a moment later, Ember was settled in the saddle, and Casey gave her a quick look over.

      “Good. We’re ready,” he said, walking over to the far, rolling door. He pushed it open and whistled sharply. A tall, proud horse trotted up, already saddled, and Casey caught the reins. He took a rifle from a corner and slung the strap for it over his back, then put his boot in the stirrup.

      Ember gave her horse a little kick in the sides, and nothing happened, save a slightly annoyed shuffle from the horse. Was she supposed to kick harder?

      Casey swung up into his saddle effortlessly, and he turned to shoot her a smile. “You ready?”

      “How do I get the horse to start moving?” she asked, heat rising in her cheeks. At least she’d warned him that she had no experience.

      “Oh, you don’t,” Casey said with a low laugh. “Patience is my horse, and she’ll do what I tell her. You just hold on.”

      So Ember was literally just along for the ride here... Great.

      Casey

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