Page 42 of Blind Trust
“Rodeo?”
“Herding cattle.” Nic leaned back in the saddle.
Lyla’s head tilted to the side. “You never told me you worked on a cattle farm.”
“My father did, but I helped him out. Learned to ride early and discovered I had a knack for making wayward cows do what I say.”
“You said that with a bit of twang just now.” Lyla giggled. “I didn’t think Arizonans had a drawl.”
“They don’t. We don’t.” He listened to his voice. “I don’t think.”
Lyla’s laughter spilled around her. Nic breathed in the cool morning air and took in the wooded property of Tully and Etta Whitlock’s estate. It was stunning, the trees hanging on to the last vestiges of fall color before winter set in. The sound of the hounds could be heard even though the animals couldn’t be seen.
In the solitude of this moment, in God’s handiwork, Nic allowed himself to imagine his future. And no matter how many times he saw it, the woman riding next to him was by his side. Did that mean in a professional manner or more? Was God revealing a reason to stay at the agency?
“Maybe it’s just being back in the saddle.” Lyla squinted against the sun. “Brings out the real you.”
Nic swallowed. The real him was leagues beneath Lyla and her family. He didn’t need to see the Whitlock family crest or Lyla’s initials monogrammed on all her livery to know that. The sight of her in her riding outfit and the way her body moved so effortlessly with her horse made him a bit jealous. “You seem to enjoy it too.”
“Yeah?”
Nic lifted his brow. Her disbelief was surprising, but after their conversation last night about her not feeling like she fit into thislife—maybe it shouldn’t be. He didn’t understand it, though. What would make her think she didn’t belong? “You don’t think you do?”
Lyla shrugged. “I guess maybe out here I do.” She smiled, her gaze drifting to the winding trail ahead. “My mom and dad put me into lessons when I was little, but my instructor was b-o-r-i-n-g and insisted I learn all the fundamentals before I could jump.”
“And you couldn’t wait.”
“Don’t act like you know me, Nicolás.” She sent him a side-eye. “But, yes. Unfortunately, my parents were of the same mind as my instructor, but not Tully. I think he sensed my restlessness, so he’d take me out and we’d run and race, and then he’d point out a hedge or small ravine and tell me to jump.”
Nic could see the whole thing in his mind. This rambunctious little girl, braids flapping in the wind, charging ahead without a single fear holding her back. He dipped his chin. Fear was healthy. It was God’s alert system to warn of danger, keep us safe...sometimes from ourselves.
For some reason, Lyla’s alert system seemed to be muted.
“How do you think the others are doing?”
He smirked. “If Brynn has her way, I bet she’s already at the front of the pack. I’m sure Jack has told her to slow down at least a dozen times in the last hour.”
“I can see that.” Lyla smiled. “How many donuts do you think Kekoa’s eaten?”
“Too many, I’m sure. My attempts to get him to eat healthier are about thirty percent effective.”
Lyla brought Sir Winston to a stop and let him graze. “Hehasstarted adding lettuce to his burgers.”
“That’s true.” He loosened Buttercup’s reins so she could reach the grass. “If we can get him to eat a salad once in a while, it’ll be a miracle.”
“Mac saladissalad,” Lyla said in a low voice pretending to sound like Kekoa. “Elinor’s been good for him, though, and I thinkhe might be getting ready to ask her to marry him. Has he told you anything?”
Nic started to reach for his hat but remembered he was wearing a helmet. “No.”
“Nicolás!” Her eyes—bluer today—rounded. “Do you know something?”
“I really don’t.” Nic raised his right hand in an oath. “But I imagine the day is coming soon.”
Lyla sighed. “I’m so happy for them.”
“Me too.” Nic studied the reins in his hand. He was very happy for Kekoa and Elinor and Naomi and Will, but the energy it took not to let it remind him of what he almost had, and then lost, with Brittany was more than he expected. And now...he slid a sideways glance to Lyla. “So, um, you and Memphis?”
“Mason.” Lyla met his gaze, cheeks turning red. “I’m really sorry. I never should’ve involved you in that horribly awkward situation.”
