CHAPTER 48

T he Kent Farm was half an hour from ours, straight down the road and through the woods. More than once, West and I had taken our horses on the old beaten paths to Kent Farms—mostly because we liked to pick fights with his son, Matt. Maybe we really were shitheads as kids.

“So, what the hell are we doing here?” West asked as he stepped out of my truck.

“You remember Matt?” I replied.

“Didn’t we dump his ass in the creek one year?” He leaned against the hood, his brows furrowing slightly.

“Yeah.” I chuckled. Fuck, we were assholes. “Anyway, Matt up and moved to Canada a few years back.”

“Why the fuck is he in Canada?” he demanded.

“Who fucking knows. All I know is that Warren is selling everything to retire down to Florida or someplace old people go,” I told him. Warren Kent, Matt’s dad, was pushing eighty. Running a full farm was too much for him. It was easier for him to let everything go rather than to preserve a legacy of sorts. I wondered what the hell that felt like.

“Maybe he’ll go hang out with your mom.”

“You shut your mouth,” I snapped. We were not talking about my mother that way. “Besides, Ma would eat him alive.”

“That’s why it’d be fucking funny.” West’s lips quirked slightly at the corners, making me smile. That tiny gesture meant more than he’d ever know. I liked being the reason he relaxed a little. “What the hell are you looking to buy from him? I’m assuming we’re here to buy farm shit.”

“Horses,” I said and started up the gravel drive.

“Wait!” West called after me. I heard his boots on the drive as he rushed to catch up. “Horses?”

“Warren is getting rid of everything—selling it off—including the animals,” I explained. “The cattle are spoken for and so are his chickens, but his horses are still available.”

“Are we buying horses?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged. We rounded the back of the old farmhouse, bringing Kent’s horses into view. At least three dozen horses grazed in a massive corral. I watched as West stopped dead in his tracks, stuck on the sight of them. “Don’t hurt to look, does it?”

“Well, look what the cat dragged in!” Warren exclaimed with a crooked grin from his spot on the porch. “You boys back together means trouble is back in town.”

“Why does everyone keep fucking saying that?” I asked, feigning annoyance.

“Because you two were little shits back then and I guarantee you’re just big shits now,” he retorted.

I caught West’s gaze. He pretended to mull it over before nodding slightly, making me smile.

“You’re looking good, Dakota,” Warren said. The grimace on West’s face had me biting my cheek to not laugh at him. I couldn’t remember a single time in his life when anyone called him Dakota. He hated his first name.

“It’s just West,” he replied. “And thank you.”

“You two can start on over to look at the herd. I’ll make my way over when my knees catch up,” he told us and jerked his chin in the direction of the fences. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

“Are we really here looking at horses?” West demanded under his breath as we approached the fence line .

“Are you really complaining about looking at horses?” I shot back.

“No, it’s just—”

“Just look at the horses, West.” I interrupted. “If you decide you want a horse, we’ll go from there.”

“There’s at least… three dozen horses here.”

“And?”

“That’s a lot of horses.”

“ One horse, West.” Jesus fuck, I had to clarify. I should’ve seen that coming. He’d take home the whole damn lot of them if he could. I didn’t have the room for that many horses.

“Two horses?” West countered. And fuck me, the faint smile on his mouth did me in. I had no hope of telling him no.

“Fine.” I sighed. Crossing my arms, I leaned on the fence and just waited. I didn’t give two fucks about the horses. I just wanted to pick up his mood. It wasn’t hard to see how the trip to my mom’s wore him down. And when in doubt, the answer was horses. Always horses.

Did I exactly have it in the budget to buy him a horse? Just barely. But I wanted to do something for him—something that would mean something, and horses were it.

I stayed put while West wandered along the fence to look at the herd. He was completely lost in the way he looked at them and I was lost in watching him. How he studied them was damn near reverent. What I wouldn’t have given to know what he was thinking.

“They’re a good-looking lot, aren’t they?” Warren said, finally joining us. He shoved his hands in his pockets and laid into a fence post for support.

“What about that one back there?” West asked. He moved further down the fence line. I followed his gaze to where a single horse was corralled separately from the rest of the herd.

“Oh, that’s just Betty,” he replied. “She’s set to be put down next week.”

“Why?” His frown was deep, and I could already see the wheels turning in his head. “She looks just fine from here.”

“She’s blind and has a mean attitude,” he told us. “I’ve tried to put in some work with her, but I’m just one man. My guys don’t have the time to deal with her.”

West let out a small sound but said nothing. And then he hopped the fence .

Yeah, I saw that one coming.

“What does he think he’s doing?” Warren glanced at me.

“It’s best just to let West do his thing when it comes to horses,” I said.

Even from where I stood, it was clear Betty was wary of West’s presence when he entered the corral with her. Her hooves beat against the ground while he talked to her. My heart lurched into my throat when her display grew more irate.

“He’s going to get himself hurt,” Warren warned.

“I trust him,” I replied. That didn’t make it any easier to watch.

Within minutes, West had her calm and nuzzling against his hand. He tested her responsiveness, moving around and snapping his fingers to see how well she followed him. She chased after him eagerly, even when he pushed her to a trot. I was fairly certain that mare would do any damn thing he wanted her to.

His way with horses was nothing short of captivating.

“So, he went away and came back a horse whisperer?” Warren asked.

“Nah, he’s always had a way with horses,” I said.

When West tried to leave the corral, Betty was at his back with her snout over his shoulder. That smile on his face did wild things to me, and I’d do whatever I could to keep it.

“Well, I guess we’re buying Betty,” I announced. There was no way in hell we were leaving here without her—not that West would let us. I was pretty sure he’d come back and steal the goddamn horse if we didn’t. “How much do you want for her?

“For Betty?” Warren scratched at his scruff, making a face as if I’d asked him a tough question. “I mean, you sure you don’t want one of the others? One that don’t got so many issues?”

“How much do you want for her?” I reiterated. At his continued hesitance, I said, “Either we’re leaving with that horse or West will be sleeping in your stables tonight.”

He laughed like I said something funny, but he had no clue just how serious I was.