The house truly was amazing. She’d especially enjoyed the luxurious guest bath, with its claw-foot tub and glass-encased shower big enough to fit a group. Different-sized stones adorned the walls of the bathroom, creating ledges for decorative votives. It was like something out of a Western magazine.
The whole time she’d showered, she’d kept reminding herself that this wasn’t seduction time. She’d simply dry her clothes, enjoy a tour of his house and get Boone to drive her back to her car. They’d agreed to slow down since that first crazy, impulsive night together, and she for one still meant it. Mostly. When she and Boone were together again, she’d know him better. And she had to admit that today had taken a big leap in that direction.
She heard a noise and looked up to see him walk back in the room, the picture of a classic mountain man. Jeans, flannel shirt, boots, light scruffy beard.
He made this look work. It certainly worked for her.
She smiled as he settled behind her, pulling her back to his chest. Spot, who had followed Boone, now settled himself on a little dog bed not far from the fire. He turned several times in a circle, then lay down with a big doggy sigh.
“It must be rough,” she said with a chuckle. “Living like this.”
“You’re right, I can’t complain.” He lowered his lips to the column of her neck, sending a little shiver down her spine.
“I’m really happy for you. You’re lucky.”
She’d guess not too many people enjoyed this kind of bounty from a father’s gambling windfall. In the next breath, she felt guilty for thinking that. It might be what their detractors thought of the Daltons. That they hadn’t earned their wealth through hard work or family legacy but pure luck. That somehow what they had wasn’t good enough because of the way they’d acquired it.
“How are you doing? Feeling better now?” He skillfully changed the subject.
“Much. My hair is free of mud and grass. I just wish I had gel or a blow-dryer. You didn’t have either in the guest bath. In your own bathroom, maybe?”
“No, sorry.”
“It’s just that my hair does this weird thing when it dries on its own.”
“Does your hair say rain or snow today?” He couldn’t hide his smile.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I think you’re beautiful,” he whispered near the shell of her ear. “Just as you are.”
Those words stilled her, and in that quiet space she felt a profound sense of peace.
He helped remove the towel from her hair and she fluffed it out, resigned to letting it dry in front of the fire. Unmanageable waves or not. Her hair was one of her biggest gifts and greatest curses. It definitely had a mind of its own.
“Do you want something to drink? I have coffee.”
“Sure.”
Boone was a whirlwind. A great host so far. But earlier today, he’d mentioned children, even if joking, and she’d nearly had an aneurysm. Who mentioned having kids with someone when they’d just started dating? Was this normal, or had she just always dated commitment-phobes like herself? She made a mental note to ask Camilla.
When he came back a few minutes later, she’d moved onto the sectional. He offered her a mug and sat close, his muscled thigh next to hers.
“Boone,” she asked carefully around the rim of her mug. “Were you ever...um, married before?”
“Nope. Never married before.”
“Close?” she pressed. “High school sweetheart?”
He already knew that she hadn’t had a sweetheart at that age, but she’d never asked him.
“No high school sweetheart. Too busy with school, working and wrangling horses. I wish I’d made more time to date and hang out with friends.”
She cleared her throat, eager to change the subject. Casual dating had always been fine with her, and all she needed. Now she wondered if she’d missed out on something pretty wonderful like falling in love.
“I noticed something today. You’re really good with kids.”
“Think so?”
“Little Josie lit up when she saw you, and Robby knew he could count on you for the ice cream.”
“I probably spoil them too much because I get to be the fun uncle. I won’t do that with my kids.”
There he went with the kids talk again, although she supposed she’d brought it up this time. “You...want kids?”
Sofia had to ask because she wondered if she was somehow auditioning for a part she didn’t want. Wife and mother.
“Sure, yes, I want kids. What about you?”
“It’s a big commitment.”
Wow, Sofia, truer words were never spoken, were they?
In her large and conservative Latino family, children and family came first. It would be irresponsible not to eventually want all of those things. Sofia knew she should want them. She couldn’t help that she didn’t, and occasionally guilt would thread through her like a needle looking for a place to pinch.
Boone simply studied her, as if waiting for her to say more. Because surely, there had to be more. But Sofia had honestly never thought of herself as a mother for longer than two minutes. Kids were cute, sure, but as the youngest in her family, she’d had little to no experience with babies. Someday she assumed she’d be a mother, but she had put little to no thought beyond that.
“And I’m only twenty-six.” Did that sound defensive? She hoped not.
“Oh, yeah? I’m thirty-one.”
“I didn’t know that.”
She didn’t think he looked thirty-one, not that he was old. But they certainly might not be in the same place when it came to relationship goals with their five-year age difference. Still, when she looked at Boone, she knew without a doubt he was what she wanted. She wanted a man with this kind of easy confidence, who wasn’t afraid to stick up for his family, to fight the world on their behalf if he had to. It reminded her a little of her own father, and how much he believed in family and honoring and respecting one another.
“So when I was a freshman in high school, you were a sophomore in college.”
“Am I too old for you?” He winked, running a hand down her waist to her hip, and even through the robe she felt his hand branding her, waking her up.
“Hardly.” She took one last sip of her coffee and set her mug down, then turned to give him her full attention. “I’d say you’re just right for me, in so many ways.”
This was the God’s honest truth, even though it scared her spitless. The more she learned about Boone Dalton, horse whisperer, the more she wanted to know.
“I feel the same. But I heard what you said loud and clear. You want to slow this thing between us down, and I respect that. Even though this might be the most romantic situation I’ve ever been in, I’m not going to seduce you.” His blue eyes darkened, and he spoke after a long beat of silence. “Unless that’s what you want.”
Gulp. She wanted him so much, wanted those big, strong, calloused hands that could be so gentle. That mouth that knew how to kiss her so that she only craved more.
But before she could say anything, he took her hand in his, pulling her up, and she was certain he’d read the invitation in her eyes. But instead of leading her up the staircase to his bedroom, he tugged her close to the end table and picked up a nearby remote. Music came on, a light and breezy country song that was a favorite on her playlist. The superior stereo sound surrounded them.
“This is from my Spotify.”
Well, he couldn’t have planned this better if he were a psychic. It reminded her that Winona, the so-called town psychic, had picked Boone’s entry. This is the one, she’d said. You’ve been searching. Up until this moment, Sofia hadn’t thought Winona meant anything other than the contest winner. But she was beginning to wonder if this overwhelming feeling she had for Boone was what people meant by falling in love. If that were the case, the
n it had happened at first sight. She didn’t know what to make of that. It sounded about as whimsical as being psychic.
Boone took her hand in his and spun her around the room effortlessly. Sofia was no slouch when it came to dancing, having spent many a weekend over the past few years on a dance floor. But that had been with her girlfriends, and any brave male willing to join them.
There hadn’t been many of those men who could dance without stepping on her toes a time or two. But Boone was graceful as he led her around the room, and they both laughed, keeping perfectly in time with each other. When the song ended, he dipped her. His earnest face above her, those irresistible dimples flashed. Her heart tugged powerfully.
They danced to two more songs, both also on her playlist.
“You’re good at dancing, too.” She put her hands on her hips and gave him a sidelong look. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
She expected him to say that he couldn’t bake, sew or iron a shirt. Typical alpha guy stuff.
“Forgive,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “I’m not good at that.”
The confession was unexpected. “Not many people are. I think it’s just a matter of time if you’re willing.”
“I don’t know about that.” He shrugged. “It’s been a few years now and I can’t seem to forgive him. I’ve tried.”
“Are you talking about your father?”
“Good guess.” He led her back to the sectional.
“What did he do that was so awful? Gamble? Drink too much?”
“At different times all of that, but he also cheated on my mother.”
The words sliced through her, the pain in Boone’s voice nearly palpable. She could only think: That nice man who seemed so proud of his son’s horsemanship? She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to know such a thing about your own father. Your hero. Tough way for him to fall from a son’s grace.
“That’s awful.” She squeezed his hand.
“Sorry to bum you out like this. It’s something I’ve been thinking about lately. I need to figure out how to get past this. Forgive him. My mother wants me to.”
“Be gentle with yourself. It’s not an easy thing to do.”
Boone ran a hand through his hair. “She gave everything up for him. Her corporate career wasn’t something she could continue to do out on a ranch, and his entire life was ranching. So she pulled up stakes. Gave it all up to be with him and raise a family. Then that’s how he rewards her. A slipup, my mother calls it. The woman is a saint. I don’t know how she forgave him.”
Sofia was now even more impressed with a woman she’d yet to meet. “That kind of forgiveness...that can only come from real and unconditional love. She must love him a lot.”
“Yeah, she does.” He palmed her thigh. “We should all be that lucky. She tells me that if she forgave him, I can, too. And it’s true that my father used to drink a lot back in those days. He gave up drinking after my mother had her heart attack, just before he bought this place.”
“That says something. Drinking too much goes along with so many careless behaviors. If he’s given that up, maybe he is a new man.”
“Like I told you, my two older brothers have reconciled with him. Morgan, because I guess they bonded over becoming fathers. Dad helped Morgan with that transition from going immediately from falling in love with a woman to becoming a father.”
“And you? Is there anything he can do? A way he can make things up to you?”
“He wants to help me get my name out as a world-class horse wrangler. Maybe start a side business. But I don’t need his help.”
That seemed rather shortsighted to Sofia, but she simply pressed her lips together and said nothing.
Boone kept going. “He seems to think that if he helps me then I’ll easily forgive everything he’s done in the past.”
“I hope you find a way to forgive your father someday.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
Even if she found cheaters to be one of the lowest forms of life on earth, as low as an earthworm, this sounded like a different situation. She found herself not wanting to place blame for once, but on the other hand, she was decidedly on Boone’s side. It was laughable to even think of her father cheating on her mother, but if he did, Sofia would want to forgive him. She had learned that hanging on to grudges only hurt the person left holding them.
They sat together quietly for several minutes. It was a calm and peaceful moment, not a boring or awkward silence at all. This felt serene. Comforting. They already had the easy kind of natural lulls in conversation that Sofia had only experienced with family.
Boone seemed to absently glide his hand up and down her spine in a soothing pattern. She pressed against his shoulder and a sense of relaxation enveloped her. All she needed was a blanket and she would fall asleep in his arms within seconds.
As if he sensed that she was enjoying the cuddling a little too much, Boone palmed her neck and pulled her to face him. He wore an almost mischievous smile.
“Hey, you feel like going outside for a while? There’s something I want to show you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Boone waited for Sofia to change, planning what he hoped would be an afternoon of riding.
“Where are we going?’ she asked, coming back down the steps to meet him.
“For a ride.”
“But I—”
“You like horses?”
“Sure, I do, but it’s been a while. I was much younger when I rode. My father made sure all his kids learned how to ride, but Camilla was the one who barrel-raced. She was also the junior rodeo queen one year. So was I.”
He handed her a hat, and she tucked most of her long hair inside it.
“Impressive. And as long as I live in Bronco, you have an open invitation to Dalton’s Grange.”
Speaking of invitations, he hadn’t taken the one he’d seen in her eyes earlier. Because, first, maybe he’d imagined the whole thing. She’d need to say the words to him out loud. Secondly, he also wanted to be sure that the next time they hooked up it wouldn’t just be hot sex. It was going to be next-level. A deep intimacy unlike he’d ever experienced. He looked forward to that. With her, that was within reach, and he sensed it. Now he couldn’t settle for anything less.
Somewhere in between the first time he’d laid eyes on her and today, when she’d laughed and danced with him, he’d made a decision. A possibly life-changing choice, but he’d rarely felt as certain of anything in his life. Sofia was it for him. Forever.
It scared him to think he’d fallen for someone a bit younger than him, someone who didn’t seem ready for all he wanted from her. He’d try to be patient and wait for her to catch up to him. Just because he’d fallen in love at first sight didn’t mean that it had been the same for her.
In the mudroom, he handed her another of his well-worn leather jackets. “I know it’s not fancy or what you’re used to. But just for today.”
She shrugged into it. “It’s comfortable.”
“I don’t care what you wear, baby, you always look gorgeous.”
“I’m glad you think so, anyway.” She rolled up the sleeves of the jacket.
With Spot following them, Boone led her to his private stables where he kept his own horses. Lately, he’d been so busy breaking colts for Neal that he hadn’t spent enough time with his geldings and mares. He regularly had Shep and Dale take them for rides for exercise, and then let them loose in a pasture so they could graze and enjoy the easy life.
After Boone cinched the lead on the quarter horse he had rescued, he led him to the tack room. Spot followed them, the proud herder, broadcasting that he was available for hire. Boone showed Sofia how he brushed his horse, checked the shoes and saddled him.
“This is Burrito,” Boone said by way of introduction.
“You’re not serious.”
/> “As a heart attack. I name my horses after my favorite foods.”
“And you thought alphabetical order was bad! You won’t do that with your children, will you?”
“Nah. Probably not, anyway.” He grinned.
“Your wife might have something to say about that.”
He felt strangely gratified that she’d mentioned children in front of him without getting a shell-shocked look in her eyes this time.
“You’re probably right. Now, would you like to meet Chicken? Okay, I’m kidding. I would never name a horse Chicken. Am I cruel? No.” He led out his most gentle horse, a painted black-and-white mare. “This is Oreo. I’ve bred her once and named the foal Cookie.”
“She’s beautiful, and that’s a perfect name.”
The bright sunshine from earlier today took a back seat to a light cloud cover. Earlier in the week, snow had been predicted. Unusual for October in Montana but entirely possible. Usually, Oreo could smell snow. No one believed Boone, but he’d swear by it. Given that she didn’t like snow, Oreo would often try to communicate with him by resistance and an occasional and unusual snort. She’d been right every time. Boone didn’t sense any of that today, and after he’d saddled her, Oreo seemed happy to be led out for exercise.
Spot took off after a bird, and Boone handed Sofia Oreo’s lead. “Follow me.”
Behind him, Boone heard Sofia talking to Oreo. If he wasn’t mistaken, she had just complimented Oreo’s beautiful mane. Then he heard her speaking in more hushed tones about not being scared, because though she hadn’t ridden in a while, she’d always loved horses. Boone wanted to turn and assure Sofia that as an experienced horseman, he’d never allow her to ride an unpredictable horse.
Oreo was a safe, experienced and docile mare. But rather than turn, he continued to listen to her soft, lilting voice, carried slightly by a breeze. His chest pinched when he wondered which one of them Sofia was trying to comfort more. And whether she realized that not everyone talked to horses the way he did. Correction: the way they did.
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