Page 35 of Ethan

Rowdy appeared at his elbow. “You need anything else today, boss?”

“No.” Ethan picked up Vulcan’s bridle and hung it on the hook. “Go home, Rowdy.”

Rowdy nodded and left without another word.

Ethan stood alone in the quiet barn for a moment, then strode out into the afternoon sun and crossed the yard toward the house.

Seven o’clock. He had hours to fill.

He pulled out his phone as he pushed through the back door and called his mother. She picked up on the second ring as she always did.

“I won’t make dinner tonight, Mom.”

“Oh?” Her voice was perfectly neutral which meant she had questions she was choosing not to ask yet.

“Something came up.”

“I see.” Another pause. “Should I save you a plate?”

“No, I’m good.” He hung his hat on the peg. “Tell Dad I’ll call him tomorrow.”

“Of course.” He could hear the smile in her voice, and he chose to ignore it. “Have a nice evening, Ethan.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

He hung up and stood in the kitchen looking at the clock.

Hours.

He went to find something useful to do with them.

****

At five minutes to seven Naomi checked her reflection one last time and told herself to stop fussing.

She’d changed three times. The blue sundress she’d worn to the reception felt like too much of a repeat, so she’d settled on dark jeans, a white blouse that sat off the shoulder just slightly, and her good cowboy boots. Simple. She wasn’t trying too hard.

She was absolutely trying.

A knock at the door.

She took a breath and opened it.

Ethan stood on the landing, clean jeans, a dark button down with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, his black hat in his hand and distressed cowboy boots on his feet. No suit. He looked devastating and completely unaware of it.

His eyes moved over her once, the same way they had across the room at Dewey’s and came back up to her face.

“Ready?” he said.

“Let me grab my purse.” She turned back inside, picked it up off the counter, and pulled the door closed behind her.

He waited while she locked it, then fell into step beside her down the stairs. At the bottom he put his hand lightly at the small of her back to guide her toward the truck, and she felt it like a brand through the thin fabric of her blouse.

He opened the passenger door and she climbed in.

He closed it gently, walked around to the driver’s side while she looked straight ahead, and told herself to breathe normally.

It was just dinner.