Horses, Hayrides, And Husbands (Country Brides & Cowboy Boots)

by Jeanette Lewis

  “Nice to meet you, too … sir.” Misty took a step away from Gregory, forcing him to loosen his grip so she could shake the mayor’s slightly doughy hand.

  Both men looked at her expectantly, and her mind spun. What? Was she supposed to come up with something to say? Coming over here hadn’t even been her idea, and she could have gone her whole life without meeting the mayor of Sun Valley. “This is a nice house,” she finally said.

  Her cheeks burned … mad conversation skills going on right there.

  But the men didn’t seem to notice. They both immediately looked around, as if they’d never seen the house before, even though they’d been here at least two hours already.

  The mayor wrinkled his brow. “I’m thinking of remodeling my patio like this, but I hear the exposed timbers are a mixed blessing. They’re pretty, but you can’t hide the electrical wiring, and they’re a magnet for bees, don’t you think?” His eyes dropped to her hands, then back to her face with a questioning look.

  Misty realized she was cracking her knuckles and stopped, letting her hands hang limply at her sides. “Oh, uh … yeah. I guess bees could get pretty bad.”

  Gregory nodded wisely. “Of course, it’s not so troublesome if they’re outside. You’re going to get bees anyway.”

  “Yep.” Misty imagined spending the rest of the night in insect-related conversation with the mayor. Would they be limited to the pests in Sun Valley, or would they eventually branch out? If they were lucky, maybe they’d even make it all the way to the locust infestation in Argentina.

  Nope. Not gonna happen.

  She waved one hand in the direction of the fire pit. “It’s nice to meet you, your honor.” The words sounded strange on her tongue, like she was addressing the queen of England or something. “I need to go speak with my brother.”

  “Make sure you keep on him about that green pastures initiative,” Mayor Bixby urged. “It’s very important for our community.”

  Misty hesitated, tempted to explain she had nothing whatsoever to do with Ty’s decisions, but she stopped. What did it matter anyway?

  “I’ll do that,” she finally promised.

  She’d hoped to leave both men to the cheesecake and was dismayed when Gregory joined her, his hand sliding back to her elbow. Did he plan to buddy up to her all night? What if he followed her onto the hayride? She’d been hoping to sit near Travis; what would he do if he saw her with Gregory Brookes?

  Ty was leaning back against the bench, one long arm looped around Holland’s shoulders. Their shoes were off, and they were digging their bare feet into the genuine Hawaii-imported sand.

  “Hey, Misty! Check out this sand, it’s amazing,” Holland squealed.

  Well, that made sense. The beach was Holland’s happy place and one of the biggest things she missed about California when she’d moved from Los Angeles to Idaho last year to help Ty with his charitable foundation. Of course, there was more than altruism at play there. They’d been married a few months ago on a beach in the Caribbean, and neither of them had come down from la-la land yet.

  They scooted along the bench to make room, and Misty slipped off her shoes. She couldn’t help grinning as she stepped into the soft, warm sand. “This is definitely going on the bucket list for my dream house,” she said as she settled onto the bench at Holland’s side with a contented sigh.

  “It is a pretty cool idea.” Gregory slid in next to her, his hip pressing against hers. She was going to smell like his cologne for a week.

  “You have to take your shoes off to get the whole experience,” Holland chided, glancing at Gregory’s loafer-clad feet.

  “Nah, I’m good.” He gave a slight frown. “Sand really isn’t my thing.”

  Misty giggled at the look of incredulity washing over Holland’s face.

  “Well, to be fair, he does own a ski resort,” Ty said reasonably.

  Misty gazed at her brother in the flickering firelight. Winning the lottery and being catapulted into the world of the super-rich hadn’t changed him much, and in some ways, he was still the same dork he’d always been. But meeting Holland had changed him in ways Misty hadn’t expected. Sure, his clothes were a little better, and his hair was cut more often, but there was something else too—a newfound confidence that hadn’t been there before. Maybe it was the confidence of being wanted, being loved.

  Her heart ached to experience that same feeling. How stupid she’d been to think she had found love and acceptance with Chet. She thought he’d be the love of her life, but he’d turned on her the moment she became pregnant, and now he was out of her life for good.

  And out of her heart. But what was left? The love she felt for Wyatt was fierce and deep and almost all-encompassing … almost. There was a piece of Misty that couldn’t be filled by chubby baby cheeks and snuggles. A part of her that ached to feel a man’s arms around her again—only in love this time, not lust. Would it ever happen for her? Could it ever happen?

  “Attention, ladies and gentlemen.” A woman’s voice cut through the noise, and the chatter of the party quieted. They turned to see Mrs. Millburn standing in the middle of the patio. “The hayride is ready, so if those of you who are interested will follow me, we have some genuine Sun Valley Clydesdales for your enjoyment.”

  They all waded out of the sand, and Ty held out his arm to help Holland balance as she slipped on her stilettos. “You coming?” he asked Misty as she stomped the sand from her feet.

  “Um …” Travis thought she was the catering help, and he obviously had a chip on his shoulder when it came to the party guests. And there was the problem of Gregory suddenly deciding to be her shadow. “Actually, I was thinking I’d go home. Can I take your car? I could call an Uber for you, or something?” Sun Valley was only twenty minutes from Ty and Holland’s home in Hailey; it shouldn’t be too hard to get a driver to come pick them up.

  “Why are you leaving?” Ty’s dark eyebrows knit together.

  “Just, reasons.”

  Holland’s green eyes narrowed as she gave Misty a look. “This is a networking party. You’re not trying to run away, are you?”

  “Yeah, like you two are networking?” Misty cast a significant glance around the fire pit. There were several other people sitting on the benches, but Ty and Holland had been in their own little world. “So, can I take your car or should I call my own Uber?” She reached for her phone in her bag.

  “I thought you wanted to go on the hayride,” Gregory broke in. She’d almost forgotten he was there.

  Misty played her trump card. “I need to get home to my baby.”

  Gregory’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Oh. I didn’t … of course. That’s the most important thing.”

  Ty dug a yellow tag from his pocket and held it out. “Give this to the valet; they have my keys. And don’t worry about the Uber. I’ll bum a ride with someone.”

  Misty paused. She’d forgotten about the valet parking. She had a ten-dollar bill in her wallet, and while it would probably be a small tip in comparison to what some of the others would pay, it was all she had until payday, and Wyatt was almost out of diapers.

  “I can take you home; my Lambo is out front,” Gregory offered.

  Holland gave her a knowing smile and Misty gritted her teeth as the yellow ticket disappeared back into Ty’s pocket. Now she had at least another half hour with Gregory. Why had she ever agreed to come to this party, anyway?

  Ten minutes later, they were speeding down the road in Gregory’s orange Lamborghini. The back end of a black wagon came into view. The Clydesdales moved in perfect rhythm, bells jingling in the warm summer air, seeming to pull the packed wagon without any effort.

  Travis sat in the driver’s seat. He’d swapped the baseball cap for a cowboy hat, probably to better fit the cowboy image. Misty slid down in her seat as Gregory swerved around the wagon, hoping the car was low enough that Travis wouldn’t be able to see her. Her heart twinged with a sudden, fierce longing to be sitting next to him, bouncing on a wooden
wagon seat instead of ensconced in the plush Italian leather next to Gregory.

  Travis had her number. She hoped with all her heart he’d call. Soon.

  * * *

  “Whoa, girl. It’s all right.” Travis spoke in a low, soothing tone as the Lamborghini roared by, cutting too close to the wagon. He pulled the reins gently, bringing Jemima back under his control, and muttered a bad word under his breath. The car had come from the party and was, of course, a typical rich guy—acting like he had the road all to himself.

  Jemima calmed down once the car was out of sight, and they finished the first ride without any further incidents. At the house, the team stood patiently while the first group of guests unloaded and another climbed aboard, situating themselves onto the blanket-covered bales. There were muttered complaints about the smell, which Travis ignored.

  He’d given the guests perfunctory instructions, then busied himself with the horses while they climbed into the wagon. His boss probably wouldn’t be too happy with him for not socializing, and his tips would probably suffer, but he didn’t care. They were adults, they could handle climbing in and out of a wagon on their own. Besides, his mind was on Misty, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting toward the kitchen windows, looking for the flash of her bright hair. Her back would probably hurt as much as his did by the end of the night; maybe he’d text her and they could commiserate.

  “Hi there.” Travis looked up as a tall man in a dark suit approached. “I’m Ty.” The man held out a hand and Travis shook it reluctantly.

  “Travis.”

  Ty didn’t seem to notice his hesitation. “Nice to meet you; this is a beautiful team.” He reached out one hand to let Jemima smell his palm, a simple gesture that told Travis this man knew horses. “I’m going to jump in and I think we’re ready,” Ty said after letting Jemima sniff him for a minute.

  “Okay, sounds good.” Travis nodded. He shot one more glance toward the kitchen and then turned his attention to his job.

  Forty minutes later, Travis pulled the horses to a stop at the side of the house. The guests immediately began jostling one another to get out, though Travis noticed the tall man and the pretty woman he sat with stayed back, letting others get out before them.

  “Thanks, Travis. We had a lot of fun,” Ty said when they’d finally unloaded. He stretched out his hand, a fifty-dollar bill between his fingers.

  “You’re welcome,” Travis said, eying the money. “That’s too much. I didn’t do anything but drive.”

  “Are you kidding?” the woman at Ty’s side spoke up. “We had so much fun, it was very romantic.” She wrapped her hands around Ty’s bicep, and Travis noticed the huge diamond on her ring finger.

  “Okay, well, thanks,” he said, taking the money.

  Ty nodded and gave Sherlock’s flank a quick pat. Then he and his wife joined the rest of the crowd heading back into the house.

  “That looks like the last of them.” Mrs. Millburn came forward. Her eyes darted quickly to the fifty Travis still held. “Thank you for coming; everyone had a nice time.”

  He nodded. “My coworker will be here in a few minutes to load the wagon. I’ll see to the team, then take care of the mess on the driveway.” He jerked his head toward where the Clydesdales had left a few unauthorized presents.

  Mrs. Millburn wrinkled her nose. “That’d be great, thank you. I didn’t think they’d make such a mess.”

  “Well, they’re big animals,” Travis excused the horses.

  They stood in silence for a moment. Mrs. Millburn had already paid online, but that fee covered the horses and the wagon. The driver worked off of tips, and this was usually the part of the evening where the host showed their gratitude.

  Her eyes shot again to the fifty and she gave him a smile. “Okay then, thank you very much.”

  The meaning was clear. Since he’d obviously been tipped so well by a guest, she was excused from coughing up any of her own money. Travis clenched his teeth. “Could you please show me toward the restroom?”

  He shifted his weight, intending to follow her into the house, but she threw up an arm and pointed toward the garage. “There’s one just inside that door. I’d rather not risk having you track anything into the house.” She cast another look at the mess the horses had left on the concrete.

  “Sure, no problem,” Travis managed tightly. He didn’t have to check to know his boots were clean. Clydesdale manure was like elephant dung; you didn’t step in it without knowing. He spun on one heel and stalked toward the garage, crumpling Ty’s fifty in his fist.

  Chapter 2

  Misty stared at the jumble that had suddenly appeared on her computer screen in shock. All she’d wanted was to import a simple picture into her report, not add three more pages, shift everything to full justified, and change the font to twenty point. She groaned and hit the undo button, resting her chin on her palm as the document reset itself.

  “I heard that. What’s up?” Misty’s mother, Ellen, poked her head into the office. She was a small woman with a pixie haircut and a gentle smile that never wavered. In the last year, Misty had noticed an uptick in the strands of silver in her mother’s hair. Probably her fault. Her parents adored Wyatt and were completely supportive of her decision to keep him, but Misty knew they’d been saddened to see her become a single mother, especially at such a young age.

  “Just this stupid report,” Misty grumbled, waving a hand at the computer. The document was back to before the picture formatting disaster, and she quickly hit the save key.

  Ellen cocked her head to one side as she stepped to the corner to gaze at Wyatt, who slept in a portable crib. “Sweet boy,” she murmured, then sank into the overstuffed chair across from Misty’s desk. “So … how was the ride home in the Lambo?”

  Misty felt her cheeks redden. “You heard about that, huh?”

  “Ty told me. What’s Gregory like? Is he nice?”

  “You know what people who own Lamborghinis like to talk about?” Misty asked. “Lamborghinis,” she declared, answering her own question.

  “Okay, so he’s a little show-offy,” her mother allowed. “But Ty said he seems like a nice guy.”

  “I guess,” Misty said noncommittally.

  “You don’t like him?”

  Was that disappointment in her mother’s tone? Misty bit her lip. Now that they had money—or more accurately, now that Ty had money—the family had been pulled into different circles than those they used to operate in. Well, not so much her parents. They still lived on the sheep farm, albeit in the dream house Ty had built for them instead of the more humble farmhouse of Misty’s childhood.

  But they’d kept their same friends, their same routines, their same lifestyle. Her dad still ran the farm, and her mother still made quilts, went to lunch with friends she’d had since high school, and doted on her grandson.

  But life had changed for Misty and her little sister, Ashley. Their parents had broached the idea of moving Ashley from Wood River High School to an exclusive private school in Sun Valley, where she would supposedly have more opportunities. Ashley was firmly against the idea, and Misty suspected her sister would win out, but now that she was a mom, she could see both sides of the argument. As a parent, who wouldn’t want to give their kids the best they could?

  And the only evidence Misty needed that her life had changed was the party last night and a ride home with one of Idaho’s most eligible bachelors—a man who probably would never have looked twice at her before her brother won a fortune.

  “I like him, okay?” Misty said in answer to her mother’s question. “I hardly know him, though.”

  “How was the rest of the party?”

  Memories of Travis’s grin flooded her mind, sending her heart stuttering. “They had Clydesdales. Have you ever seen one up close? They’re huge.”

  “I know. Burt Merriweather used to have a team, and he’d take us sleigh riding in the winter.”

  “That sounds awesome! This was a hayride, but they
had bells. Travis … the driver, said they usually only use them for winter, but sometimes the guests want them.” She stopped abruptly. The need to talk about Travis was almost overwhelming, but her mother would pick up on her mood in a second, and Misty didn’t want the third degree about a man she barely knew, especially when her mother seemed far more interested in a potential relationship with Gregory.

  She was saved when Wyatt began to fuss in his crib. They both jumped up.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt your work. How about I take this big boy out for a while?” Misty’s mother leaned over the crib and gathered Wyatt into her arms, planting a noisy kiss on his cheek. “Hello, sweetheart. Did you have a good nap?”

  Wyatt’s blond hair stuck up at odd angles, and he gave Misty a two-toothed grin over his grandma’s shoulder.

  “I can take him, Mom,” Misty said, her arms already aching to hold her boy.

  “You go ahead and work.” Ellen nuzzled Wyatt’s neck. “We’ll go hang out with Grandpa for a while, maybe take a walk.”

  They left, and Misty settled back into her chair and turned her attention to her computer screen. But tears filled her eyes until the words and graphics were a jumbled blur. More than anything, she wanted to be a full-time mom to Wyatt. But that would mean depending on Ty even more than she already did. He probably wouldn’t mind, but she would.

  Her text alert dinged, and she glanced at her phone lying next to the computer. It was Travis. Her tears dried instantly, replaced by a tingle of excitement. She picked up the phone and tapped the screen.

  He’d sent a picture of a Clydesdale. Or rather, a Clydesdale’s nostrils, since it was taken rather close up.

  -Jemima says hi.

  Misty bit back a smile as she typed her reply.

  -Aw!! What a cutie!

  -I don’t know if cute is the word I’d pick, but she’s all right.

  -Where’s her buddy?

  A few minutes later, another picture came up, this one of a different horse.