Page 90 of Promised to the Cowboy

Her expression softens. “A nursery.”

“Unless you were planning to keep her in the barn.”

“Depends how loud she is.”

“She’s a Sutton. Loud isn’t likely.”

“She’s also a Gale,” Evie says dryly.

I chuckle. “Good point.”

Evie looks past me toward the house, barely visible through the open barn doors in the gray light. “The room across from ours?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Ours,” she repeats.

The single word goes through me. I bend and kiss her forehead because her mouth is too dangerous when my chest feels like this.

Behind us, Chance shifts. Falcon immediately loosens the rope further. The mare steps backward once, eyes fixed on the stall opening.

Evie turns away from me without hesitation. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Falcon says. “She heard something outside.”

We all listen. A truck starts somewhere near the equipment shed.

Chance’s head rises.

Falcon moves sideways rather than following her back, keeping himself out of the doorway. “She’s thinking about leaving.”

“She’s allowed to,” Evie says, stepping out of the stall and turning her shoulder to the mare.

Chance watches her.

After a few seconds, the mare’s breathing eases. She takes one step forward. Then another. Her hind feet cross the threshold.

Evie goes completely still.

Chance stands inside the stall. All four feet. It’s the first time she’s entered an enclosed space voluntarily since she arrived.

Evie’s hand finds mine without looking. Her fingers grip hard.

Falcon lowers the lead rope to the floor.

Chance sniffs the bedding, then raises her head and looks directly at Evie.

“There you are,” Evie whispers.

Chance doesn’t retreat.

Falcon steps back toward the aisle. “I’ll bring the tools after breakfast.”

Evie glances at him. “For the partition?”

“And the outside door.”

She smiles. “Thank you, Falcon.”