Page 92 of Knotting the Cowboys

He approaches slowly, the horses following with easy trust.

One is Willow, the rescue mare who'd accepted me yesterday, and the other is a striking painted gelding I haven't met yet. Both wear halters but no saddles, and their coats gleam with recent grooming.

"Annual checkups," he explains as he stops a careful six feet away—close enough for conversation, far enough that our scents won't mingle too much. "Dr. Morrison's clinic is just around the corner. Saw the truck outside and got worried when you weren't at the ranch this morning."

The admission hangs between us, heavy with everything he's not saying.

Worried could mean so many things—worried about my safety, worried about my location, worried I'd fled entirely.His green eyes scan me with professional assessment, noting the flush of my skin, the way I can't quite sit still, all the telltale signs of my body's rebellion.

"I needed space," I admit, then soften it with, "The air at the ranch was a bit... thick."

Something flashes in his eyes—understanding mixed with what might be regret.

"We've been trying to stay out of the house more. Give you room. But maybe that just concentrated things when we were inside."

Patty clears her throat delicately, reminding us both of her presence.

"Well, this has been illuminating, but I should go." She stands with the same energy she arrived with, tucking her notebook away. "River, you should take Willa riding through the valleys and hills. Let the worries shed away. Nothing like mountain air to clear the head and settle the body."

She aims that last bit at me with a knowing look that makes me blush all over again.

Of course she knows exactly what my body needs settling from.

River considers this, head tilted slightly as he studies me.

"Would you like that? The horses are calm, and the trails are shaded. Might be cooler than sitting in town."

The thought of being alone with River, even with the careful distance between us, makes my pulse race. But the alternative—returning to the ranch where all four of them are trying to give me space in a house that feels smaller by the hour—seems worse.

"I don't have riding clothes," I hedge.

"What you're wearing is fine," he assures me. "We'll take it easy. Just walk the trails, let the horses stretch their legs before their appointment."

Patty pats my shoulder as she passes, the touch brief but grounding.

"Trust him," she murmurs low enough that only I can hear. "River Stone knows how to handle delicate things without breaking them."

She saunters off with a wave, leaving River and me in a bubble of awkward awareness. The horses shift restlessly, and Willow stretches her neck toward me, whickering softly.

"She remembers you," River says, his voice warm with approval. "Made quite an impression yesterday."

I stand, ready to take out the change in my pocket for the latte, but River ends up taking a bill and handing it over to me to leave on the table. I smile and thank him, while he assures me with an added wink that it’s his duty to make sure I’m hydrated.

Gives me a moment of normalcy despite the tension.

The heat makes everything feel languid, dreamlike, and I'm hyperaware of how my body moves, how River tracks each step without seeming to.

"Hi, pretty girl," I murmur to Willow, letting her soft nose bump my palm. Her whiskers tickle, and the simple pleasure of it grounds me. "You here for a checkup too?"

"Vaccines and teeth floating," River confirms. "Nothing serious. But I thought..." He pauses, choosing words carefully. "I thought maybe we could make a day of it. If you're up for it."

There's something in his tone, a careful hope that makes my chest tight. This isn't just about giving the horses exercise or escaping the heat. This is River offering time together that's safe, controlled, but still connection.

"Okay," I agree, and his smile is worth the risk. "But I might need help mounting. It's been a while."

"Of course." He moves to Willow's side, making a cradle of his hands. "I'll boost you up."

The moment of contact, even through my boots, sends electricity shooting up my spine. His hands are steady, strong, and I have to focus on swinging my leg over Willow's back instead of how much I want those hands elsewhere. I settle onto her bare back, grateful for the mare's calm energy.

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