Page 101 of The Love Lie
“That’s enough of that,” Cooper interjects. Suddenly, large commanding hands grip her around the waist and she’s airborne as if she weighs nothing at all. He plops her into the saddle, letting his fingers linger a little longer than necessary, before turning back to Nutcracker.
Sam can’t help but smile as he glides smooth as butter into his own saddle. There’s something unabashedly sexy about a man who looks perfectly at home on top of a nine-hundred-pound animal who can just as easily kill him as carry him across the plains. And he does look at home as he gives the horse a few strong pats, then motions to the other men mounted up behind them. With a click of his tongue, the group launches into motion.
He guides Nutcracker without the reins, using just the pressure of his thighs, oozing a quiet confidence that heats Sam’s blood. They move past the paddocks and into the open grasslands, the backdrop of rolling hills just heightening this wild, rugged air he’s giving off. She’s never experienced anything like it before—a man so in his element, so commanding over nature. He cuts and gallops, the movements like a coordinated dance between horse and man, bodies and minds perfectly in sync. One moment he’s laughing with the group and the next he’s staring broodingly off into the distance, studying some unseen sign, all while constantly turning back to check on her, to make sure she’s comfortable and safe, to make sure she’s having fun. The juxtaposition of such raw masculinity set against such tender care leaves her absolutely entranced.
Sam can’t look away.
“So you really love him, then?”
The voice startles her so much she nearly loses her seat. A firm hand grasps her around the upper arm, holding her secure. Sam looks up into Frank Kelley’s inscrutable face. She didn’t even hear his horse close in while she stopped to gawk under the guise of a water break.
“I—” She stutters and shakes her head. “I’m sorry. What?”
“I wasn’t sure, yesterday,” the man continues, in that stern, indecipherable tone. “But I see it now. I recognize that look.”
“Mr. Kelley, I—”
“Save it. I don’t need any explanations. I don’t want any either. Whatever’s going on between you and my son, keep it that way. I just wanted to say that for the first time since that boy could walk, he seems content to stay right where he is. Those two feet aren’t itching to carry him away. And if I have you to thank for that, then thank you. I didn’t understand why he wanted to go do that show. Hell, I still don’t. But if it’s what he needed to find his way home, then I’m glad he did. Because make no mistake, Ms. Peters, thisishis home. And I won’t let anyone stand in the way of that.”
“I’m not trying to.”
He turns his eyes on the horizon and draws in a deep, heavy breath before releasing it slowly. “It’s not for the faint of heart, ranching. It’s not an easy life. It takes grit, Ms. Peters. From what little I know about you, that seems like something you’ve got. But that’s not enough on its own. You have to love it. You have to want it, too. You have to want it just as much as he does.”
Sam doesn’t know what to say, so she just keeps her mouth shut. The silence still speaks volumes. Her gaze slides back to Cooper, on horseback a little ways down the hill. He’s finally noticed the two of them talking. Even from this distance, she can read the worry in his brow.
Frank turns back to her. “I hear you’re leaving in the morning.”
It’s a statement, not a question. She answers anyway, more to remind herself. “I am.”
“Don’t worry about dinner at the big house tonight then. You don’t need an old man getting in the middle of things. We’ll save it for the next time you come visit.”
Cooper starts riding over. She forces a swallow. Frank’s horse neighs with restless energy, though deep down, she wonders if maybe it’s just picking up on the tension rapidly filling the air.
The older man leans in, his voice low. “Youareplanning on coming back, aren’t you?”
Sam gulps. Her palms grow slick on the reins. Suddenly, it feels as if every inch of her is sweating beneath the blistering sun, despite the cold autumn air.
“Yes, sir,” she whispers, not sure if it’s the truth, or a lie, or just some desperate attempt to end this conversation.
Sir?she thinks, pulse thumping.I haven’t unironically called anyonesirsince the seventh grade.
“Good.” He stares at her a moment longer. “She would have liked you, I reckon. She would have liked seeing him so settled.”
Sam doesn’t need to ask who. Her voice is hoarse when she murmurs, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Ms. Peters. My wife and I hardly agreed on anything, especially when it came to our boy.”
With that, he rides away, nodding at his son as he flies past.
“What’d he want?” Cooper asks, eyes on his father for a second too long, clearly suspicious.
“Nothing really.” Sam clears her throat and offers him a wide smile. “Word of our antics last night must’ve reached him. He said he was canceling dinner tonight because we, and I quote,don’t need an old man getting in the middle of things.”
“He called himself an old man?” Cooper snorts and stares after his father. “That’s a first.”
“I don’t know,” she quips. “Another minute on this horse and I might start referring to myself as a senior citizen too. How do you do this all day? My ass and my back are killing me.”
“Practice. Years and years of practice.” He reaches across the distance, slides an arm around her waist, and drags her into his lap. Nutcracker offers surprisingly little protest. “Come on, city girl. I’m taking you home.”
