Page 31 of Wilde Ride

Rhett’s eyes lit up. “You did?”

Rhett adored Caden, as had Brooke. He came to visit us often in Denver, which I was thankful for. Besides my parents, he was the only connection I had to River Falls.

“He has a horse that’s about to have her first foal.”

Rhett gasped. “Can I see it being born?”

“Maybe, if she doesn’t have it in the middle of the night.”

Bouncing on his toes, Rhett faced my mother. “Did you hear that, Grammy! I might be able to see a horse born.”

The sound of my father walking into the kitchen caused us all to turn.

“What’s this about a horse giving birth?” Dad asked before he walked up and kissed my mother on the cheek. “How are you, darling?”

She smiled as she replied, “I’m doing wonderful. How was your day?”

“Good. Long, but good.”

He grinned at Rhett next and kissed him on the cheek, as well. “You’ve got some flour on you, bud.”

Rhett laughed. “Granddad! I’m baking…of course I have flour on me!”

He held up his hands in mock apology, then turned to me. “Whose horse is in labor?”

“No one yet, but one of the horses over at the Wildes’ place is pregnant with her first. It’ll be any day now. Caden asked me to come over and take a look at her.”

His brows rose. “Caden, huh? I bet that didn’t sit well with Emeline. Those horses are her babies.”

I chuckled. “She wasn’t thrilled her brother went around her, but apparently this horse is Caden’s favorite.”

Dad grinned, then asked, “Was she close?”

“Yeah, I’d say in the next few days. Rhett wants to see it happen.”

My father pointed to his grandson. “A boy after my own heart.”

Rhett beamed. “I’m going to be a veterinarian one day and work with you and Daddy.”

Dad tossed his head back and laughed. “I’m afraid by the time you get out of school, I’ll be too old to still be working. I’ll be sittin’ back on a beach somewhere, drinking something cold and stiff.”

“Stiff?” Rhett asked.

“We’re going to let that one go,” my mother said, giving Dad a look. “He’s already had one conversation that was a bit too mature for his age this afternoon.”

Rhett just looked at me, confused, and I winked.

“What’s for dinner?” Dad asked as he eyed all the cookies.

“I’ve got a roast in the Crock-Pot. I’m surprised you didn’t smell it.”

Dad chuckled. “The only thing this nose smells is sugar and vanilla.”

“Let me get this last batch in the oven, then we can eat. The roast is ready.”

I walked over to Rhett. “Why don’t you head on upstairs and wash up for dinner.”

“But I’ve got to help Grammy clean up our mess,” Rhett argued as he motioned to the flour all over the kitchen island.