Page 112 of Knot my First Rodeo

Clint.

He stops beside me, forearms resting on the bale next to mine. For a minute, neither of us says anything, we just watch the horses.

"Can I ask you something?" I blurt.

Clint glances over. "Usually."

I roll my eyes.

Smartass.

I look back toward the pasture, this feels harder now that I'm actually saying it out loud.

"Last night..." I pause briefly. "Tripp said something." I swallow. "He said I was his scent match."

Neither of us looks away from the pasture, or pretends not to know what I'm talking about.

Then I finally ask the question that's been living in my head.

"Was he right?"

Clint

I keep my eyes on the pasture for a second longer than I probably should. Not because I don't know the answer. I do, but once I answer it, everything changes, or maybe everything already changed, and we're just the last ones to admit it.

I push away from the bale and straighten.

"Come help me with somethin'."

Autumn blinks, that's clearly not the response she was expecting.

"That's not an answer."

"Nope."

Her eyes narrow immediately. Unfortunately for her, I'm bigger and can walk away.

So I do. By the time I reach the barn doors, I can already hear her muttering under her breath.

"Unbelievable."

A smile tugs briefly at my mouth. "Thought you wanted an answer."

"I do."

"Then quit complainin' and grab that toolbox."

The look she gives me should probably be illegal.

I point toward the shelf. "Toolbox."

She groans dramatically, but grabs it anyway.

The paddock fence that needs fixing isn't far. One of the boards split sometime this week, probably because the horses have collectively decided they don’t want to be in the paddock, they only want the pasture.

Autumn carries the toolbox, walking beside me while throwing suspicious looks in my direction every few steps. By the time we reach the paddock, she's completely given up pretending she's patient.

"Are you gonna answer me?"