Chapter 13

Violet

"Joey, did you try that new feed in the horses' hay?" I ask, my voice tinged with concern as I brush Buddy’s mane, trying to make sense of his sluggish behavior.

He steps out of one of the stalls and makes his way over to me, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Yeah, I mixed it in yesterday. Why, what’s wrong?”

I continue running my hand down Buddy’s neck, feeling for any sign of tension or discomfort. The beautiful brown and white American Paint Horse, usually full of life, stands still, his eyes half-lidded as though exhausted. “He seems a bit lethargic. Maybe we should have the vet come out.”

It’s unnerving when one of the horses doesn’t seem right, especially a boarder like Buddy. Horses have always been sensitive creatures, but Buddy’s behavior today feels off. Normally, he’s a bundle of energy, practically bouncing to get out of his stall. But today, he seems disinterested, too calm. I hate that sinking feeling in my gut—when a horse gets sick, particularly one that's boarded here, I’m responsible. Making that phone call to the owner is never easy, and it always feels like a personal failure.

Joey nods, his eyes narrowing as he studies Buddy. “I’ll give him a call. It can’t hurt to have him checked. Any of the other horses acting weird?”

“No, just Buddy,” I reply, softly stroking the horse’s face, trying to reassure him. “You’re a good boy, Buddy. We’re gonna figure this out.”

Joey heads out to call Dr. Mike, our trusted vet, while I remain by Buddy’s side, trying to pinpoint what might be wrong. Moments later, Brian, one of my other ranch hands, walks in, wiping grease off his hands from working on the equipment.

“Hey, Violet, I changed the oil in the tractor. I’m heading out to the fields now unless you need something first,” he says, always reliable and ready to lend a hand.

I glance at him and smile, grateful for the dependable team I’ve been blessed with. There’s no way I could keep this place running smoothly on my own. Each of my ranch hands was hired by my father, and they all carry a deep respect for the ranch, treating it like their own.

“Thanks, Brian. You should definitely head to the fields, but could you send Cory in? Buddy’s not doing great, and I’ll need someone to help pick up the slack while we figure this out.”

Brian’s eyes sweep over Buddy before he gives a small nod. “He all right?”

“I hope so. Joey’s calling Dr. Mike now.”

Brian pats Buddy’s head, offering the horse a reassuring grin. “He’s tough. He’ll be just fine. I’ll send Cory over to help out.”

As he walks off, I let out a small sigh, my mind spinning not only with concern for Buddy but with other thoughts that have been bubbling under the surface. None of the ranch hands have mentioned Callum moving in, not a word or a curious glance. It’s almost as if they’re deliberately avoiding the subject. I don’t know if they’re trying to respect my privacy or if Joey’s already filled them in on what’s happening. Either way, I can’t ignore it forever.

I should explain everything to them. They deserve to know why Callum’s here and what’s going on. They’re as much a part of this ranch as I am, and keeping them in the dark doesn’t sit right with me.

But right now, all I can focus on is Buddy. I run my hand down his mane again, whispering softly to him. “Hang in there, big guy. We’re gonna figure this out.”

“Dr. Mike will be here in half an hour,” Joey says, his voice calm and steady as always.

Half an hour. That’s not too bad. I can manage that, but I’m not leaving Buddy's side until then. I nod, leaning against the wooden stall, still watching Buddy with concern. “Thanks, Joey.”

I hesitate for a moment, my thoughts swirling. Finally, I glance back up at him. “Have you talked to Brian and Cory? Told them about my situation with Callum?”

Joey removes his hat and wipes his brow before placing it back on his head, the familiar movement somehow comforting. “All I told them was that what happens in your house is your business.”

I sigh, nudging the clean hay with the toe of my boot, feeling the weight of the unspoken truth hanging between us. “I should tell them. It’s not right to keep them in the dark. They’ve been with me through everything, they deserve to know.”

“Hey, that’s up to you, Violet,” he says gently, his voice full of understanding. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation about your personal life. If you want to keep things private, that’s your right.”

I giggle softly as I look at him, noticing the deepening wrinkles around his eyes—marks of time and hard work. “You guys talk about your wives all the time. Like it’s nothing.”

Joey chuckles, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he shrugs. “That’s just a bunch of guys talking. You’ve heard of locker room talk, right? It’s the same out here on the ranch. Doesn’t mean much.”

A laugh escapes me, shaking my head at his candor. “You’re terrible, Joey.”

He grins wider, tipping his hat in mock acknowledgment. “Guilty as charged. But seriously, you do what you feel is right. If I might ask though... how’s everything going with you and Callum?”

His question hits harder than expected. I turn my attention back to Buddy, running my hands down the horse’s warm sides, trying to collect my thoughts. How do I answer that? It’s not easy to explain something that’s supposed to be a straightforward arrangement but has somehow twisted into something more complicated. Callum and I are married and live under the same roof, but the distance between us is undeniable, and yet, there are moments. Moments where everything feels real, where the connection between us feels deeper than either of us signed up for. Ever since he held me at his parents' house, I haven’t been able to shake the memory of how right it felt. How alive I felt in his arms.

But then, there are other times—times when we barely speak, when the weight of this strange arrangement feels too heavy, and I wonder if I’m pretending too hard.

Joey’s still waiting for an answer, his eyes filled with the quiet patience that only years of ranch work can instill. I can’t tell him all of this, though. I can’t unravel the complicated knot inside me, not now.

So, I lie.

“It’s going great,” I say, forcing a smile. “Easy peasy.”

Joey raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it entirely, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he pats Buddy’s side gently and gives me a knowing look. “Well, you let me know if you ever need to talk, okay?”

I nod, grateful for his understanding but also more confused than ever about how to navigate this whole situation. As Joey leaves to continue his work, I stay with Buddy, my hands resting on his neck, silently wondering what "easy peasy" would actually feel like.

Everything with Buddy worked out, which was a huge relief. After a full exam from Dr. Mike, it turned out that Buddy had a small piece of wood lodged under his horseshoe. Once Dr. Mike removed it and adjusted the shoe, Buddy instantly perked up, regaining his usual energetic self. By the time I checked on him before heading inside for the day, he was galloping around the field like nothing had ever been wrong.

Cory had picked up my slack while I dealt with Buddy, for which I was thankful, but the rest of my day still felt endless. I noticed a section of the fencing that needed repairs on my way back to the house, which means that tomorrow morning will start early, just like today.

By the time I finally got inside, I was wiped out. A long, hot shower was exactly what I needed. The hot water washed away the grime, the tension, and the lingering stress of the day, rejuvenating me in the way only a shower after a hard day can. Now, freshly showered and in nothing but my bra and panties, I’ve cranked the music up and pulled out my blow dryer.

It’s been so long since I let loose like this—just me, my music, and some much-needed self-care. I sing loudly over the hum of the blow dryer, belting out every note of my favorite songs as I run the dryer over the last damp strands of my hair. The last time I had a moment like this was years ago when my dad had gone out of town for a few days.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and smile. "Not bad for almost thirty," I murmur, appreciating the toned lines of my body. I don’t need a fancy workout routine—my entire life is one long workout. Between the ranch work and all the lifting, hauling, and running around, my body has stayed in shape naturally, and I’m grateful for that.

As the song changes, one of my all-time favorite tracks comes on, and something inside me shifts. A wave of energy rushes through me, and suddenly, I’m dancing. My hips sway in time with the beat, my body shaking loose as I sing at the top of my lungs, spinning around the room. It feels so good to let go, to embrace this rare freedom and let the stress melt away. I haven’t felt this carefree in ages, and I don’t care if anyone can hear me. This moment is mine.

I’m mid-spin, laughing and twirling, when I smack right into something solid. Or, rather, someone.

Callum’s large hands are suddenly on my arms, steadying me before I fall, and I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. My heart races, not just from the shock of colliding with him but from the sudden awareness of how close he is. His hands are warm on my skin, firm but gentle, and the feel of his touch sends an unexpected jolt through me.

I stare up at him, wide-eyed, completely caught off guard by his presence. I have no idea how long he’s been standing there or how much of my ridiculous dancing he’s seen. The heat rises in my cheeks as I realize just how little I’m wearing.

My stomach flips, and for a moment, we just stand there, the music still playing in the background, but all I can focus on is him. His hands, his eyes, the way my body is reacting to him being so close.

I should step back. I should pull away. But I don’t. Instead, I stand there, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and something else I can’t quite name.

Callum’s eyes hold mine for a beat longer than usual, and something unspoken hangs in the air between us. It’s charged, heavy with an unfamiliar tension, and suddenly I’m hyper-aware of the fact that I’m standing half-naked in front of him.