Page 133 of Wyatt
“Training program?” Wyatt asks.
“They’re hoping to get involved in the barrel racingcircuit,” I explain. “Breed horses, train riders. A little bit of everything.”
Which, come to think of it, could be an opportunity worth investigating. I’ve operated plenty on racehorses.
“But, yeah,” Ava continues, “I didn’t realize the level of expertise y’all would have in Hartsville in terms of veterinary care. I’ve truly never seen anything like it, and I feel like I’ve seen it all.”
“How long were you on the circuit?” I ask.
Ava gets a wistful look in her eyes. “Five years, but I feel like I’d trained my whole life for it.”
“You miss it?”
“Yes and no. I was ready to be done. When I got pregnant with my daughter, I knew it was time.”
“Oh!” Wyatt lights up. “How old is your daughter?”
“She’s three.”
I look at Wyatt. “We need to introduce her to Ella, don’t we?”
“My brother also has a three-year-old little girl,” Wyatt explains. “Fun age.”
“Very fun. And very intense.”
“We’ll have to get y’all together.”
Ava smiles. “I’d like that.”
“Are you trying to set Ava up with Sawyer?” I ask when Wyatt and I are safely out of earshot in his truck.
Wyatt chuckles. “Hell yeah I’m trying to set Ava up with Sawyer. They both have three-year-old girls. They’re both lonely.”
“How do you know Ava’s lonely? No, wait. How do you even know if she’s single?”
He shrugs. “She’s not wearing a ring, and I haven’t heard of a husband or boyfriend hangin’ around. I’d bet good money she’s single.”
But me? I’m taken. And I think I might be slowly coming up with a plan to make sure that never, ever changes.
Wyatt, Dad, and I head back to Lucky River Ranch later that morning. We have lunch with everyone at the New House. After inhaling Mom’s chicken potpie, I wilt against Wyatt’s shoulder. I feel like I need toothpicks to keep my eyes open.
Cash wipes his mouth, rising from his chair at the table across from us. “Why don’t y’all head home? We got the herd handled.”
I feel Wyatt go still. Cash offering to cover for his brother so Wyatt and I can rest—together—is a big deal.
“You sure?”
“Long as these clowns don’t cut up too much.” Cash knocks the baseball hat off Duke’s head.
“Dude!” Duke says. “Don’t mess with the hat. I’m havin’ a bad hair day.”
Mollie grins from her chair beside Cash’s. Ella is in her lap, and Mollie is patiently braiding her long blonde hair into two plaits. “That some bedhead you have going on?”
“Wait, who the hell are you gettin’ in bed with?” Ryder asks.
Duke just smirks. “Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell.”
“Good thing you’re no gentleman,” Wyatt replies.