Back In The Saddle

Mallory wrenched her gaze away from her wretched reflection. Way too many nights of lousy sleep had definitely taken its toll. “Sorry. She was supposed to run that by me first.”

“I take it you’re Mallory, then?”

Call her crazy, but she was guessing this guy had no idea who she was. Meaning either he hadn’t put two and two together, or Mama had—for once—kept her trap shut. Or maybe he was just playing it cool?

“That’s me. Only nothing’s been decided about the horse. Since we’re still getting settled in—” a half-truth, since once the renovation had been completed all they’d had to do was dump stuff in closets and drawers and they were basically done “—I hadn’t really given it much thought yet.”

“Completely understandable. But if you are interested, my brother says he has a palomino that could be perfect for your son, especially if he’s inexperienced. Not a youngster, but a lot of good years left. No health issues. Even-tempered as they come. And nobody knows horses like Josh—he wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

And neither would this man, she bet. Although how she’d deduce that from a five-minute conversation—and especially given her background—she had no idea. Something about his no-nonsense approach, maybe. But after so many years of never feeling as if she could truly trust anybody, of having to constantly watch her back—it felt...good. Even if it was only an illusion.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” she said, rearranging her long sweater over her thighs, even though her legs didn’t really register the chill in the air. “But there are...logistics to take into account. I’m still not entirely convinced this is a good idea.”

“Your mother said you grew up on a ranch, so I assume you know what goes into caring for a horse?”

His unwitting understatement made her smile. And ache, a little. An indulgence she rarely allowed herself. “I did. And I do. That’s not the issue. But I honestly don’t know how much time we’re going to spend here.” Her gaze drifted across the spacious family room opening to the flagstone patio and the pond beyond, its surface rippling gold from the reflection of the stand of yellow-leafed aspens on the other side of the property. Truthfully, the property had wrapped around her heart from the moment she’d opened the images in the Realtor’s email. “And taking on a horse is a huge commitment.”

“So this is a vacation home?”

“Something like that.”

The vet was quiet for a moment, then said, “If it eases your mind, the Vista has excellent boarding facilities.”

Mallory smiled, wondering what he’d wanted to say, but hadn’t. “And you’re an excellent salesperson.”

He might’ve laughed. “Hard to make a decision without knowing all your options. Tell you what—why don’t you and your mother meet me out there, see the horse for yourself? Make up your mind after that. You know where the ranch is, I gather?”

“I do, but...” Mallory paused. “I’ll think about it. How’s that?”

“Fine by me. But if you’re serious I wouldn’t wait too long. As great a horse as I suspect this one is? I imagine he’s gonna find a new home without too much trouble.”

“And would that be you trying to close the deal?”

“Just being up-front with you, Miss Keyes.”

Nope, he had no clue who she was. Mallory smiled—she’d loved her work, heaven knew. And she’d appreciated being appreciated, no lie. But she’d found actual fame tedious at best and nerve-racking at worst. She’d never thought she’d live for the day when she wasn’t recognized, but now that that day had arrived she felt positively buoyant.

But this business with the horse...a prod, Mallory thought this was. One initiated by her mother, perhaps, but clearly with the universe’s approval: to get up off her duff—in a manner of speaking—and actually move forward with something instead of only talking about it. A bad habit she’d slipped into over the last little while.

But the move to Whispering Pines had been Mallory’s idea, so there was that. Even though her decision had clearly flummoxed her poor Realtor. Why not Jackson Hole? Or Vail? Or even Taos, if she had her heart set on New Mexico?

Mallory hadn’t gone into details. Her reasons were her own. Not that she couldn’t see the woman’s point, that here was pretty much nowhere. Only, what no one understood, was that nowhere was exactly where Mallory needed to be right now. As in, somewhere where no one could find her. Watch her. Pity her.

Somewhere where she could truly start over. Something she’d avoided doing until now, even if she hadn’t fully realized that. And sometimes starting over really did mean starting from scratch. From nothing—

And good Lord, she’d wandered off again, hadn’t she?

“You know how much your brother’s asking for... What’s the horse’s name, anyway?”

That got a low, rumbly chuckle. “Waffles.”

“You’re kidding? That’s adorable.”

“That’s one way of looking at it. And Josh usually only asks for enough to cover his costs. We’re not talking prize stud here or anything. The two of you can hash that out, if you decide to take him.” Another chuckle. “The horse, I mean.”

“Would tomorrow work?” Mallory pushed out of her mouth, surprised how hard her heart was beating. “I know it’s Sunday, but—”

“No, tomorrow would be fine,” Dr. Talbot said, sounding a little surprised himself. “I’ll probably have my kids with me, though.”

“Not a problem.” Then she smiled, even as her heart twanged with missing Landon. “Boys? Girls?”

“Boys. Two of them. Loud. Constantly moving. Fight every five minutes. You’ve been warned.”

At that, a laugh burst from Mallory’s chest. “How about early afternoon, if that works for you?”

“One-thirty? That’ll give us time to get home from church, get them fed.”

Church. Sunday dinners. An ordinary life she dimly remembered. Missed more than she’d realized. “Sounds good.” Sounds wonderful...

“Buzz at the gate, somebody’ll let you in.”

“Will do,” she said, then ended the call, holding the phone to her chest as she heard the front door open. If she wasn’t mistaken, that weird, tingly feeling in her chest was...excitement. Lord, she was in a worse way than she thought. Because damned if she wasn’t looking forward to meeting this forthright-to-a-fault dude with the low, rumbly voice.

“Hey, honeybunch,” her mother called out. “We’re home!”

And no way on God’s green earth was she sharing that tidbit with her mother.

Edgar’s little nails scritched across the tile as he scurried over to Mallory, then stood on his hind legs so she could scoop him into her lap. Because she loved the scrawny little bugger beyond all reason. Mama followed shortly, fluffing her hair and wearing that look in her eyes that Mallory wished she could figure out how to banish once and for all. Not that she had anything against her mother’s chronic optimism—heaven knows she wouldn’t have made it this far without it—but all that cheerfulness did get tiring.

“So your Dr. Talbot called,” she said, and Mama—who’d been unloading grocery bags onto the city-block-sized quartz counter in the kitchen—jerked up her head. Surprised, maybe, but not in the least bit guilty.

“My goodness, he works fast,” she said, grabbing two jars of peanut butter and carting them over to the pantry. “I didn’t expect to hear from him so soon.” Shoving up her sweater sleeves, she returned to the counter, scooped up a half dozen boxes of pasta. “I assume he was calling about the horse?”

“He was. And thanks for cluing me in, by the way.”

Mama gave her a look. “It wasn’t anything I planned, for goodness’ sake. But I was there, you know, with Edgar, and the thought popped into my head. Like these things do. I really didn’t mean to go behind your back—” Her face fell as she clutched the boxes to her chest. “You didn’t go and say something dumb, did you?”

Mallory stuck out her tongue, then sighed. “No, you’ll be glad to know I managed to act like a civilized human being.”

“Well, that’s a load off my mind. So what’d he say?”

“That his brother has a rescue that might work.”

“He does? How wonderful! Isn’t Dr. Talbot the nicest man? And, oh, he has two of sweetest little boys. So what did you say?”

Mallory steered her chair into the kitchen and snagged an apple out of the bowl on the counter, polishing it against her jeans’ leg before biting into it. Honestly, trying to follow her mother’s train of thought was like playing pinball. Blindfolded.

“We have a date,” she said, chewing, smiling slightly at her mother’s gasp. “To see the horse, Mama. And you seriously need to give it a rest.”