Page 65 of Paper Horses

“Just thinking about how much it will cost to fix the ranch after the storm.”

His brows crinkled. “That’s what you were thinking?”

I didn’t want to admit the thoughts that had been there, the worry of how to juxtapose the part of me that Hudson had freed with the woman I was. “Yes, it’s a mess.”

“It’ll dry. This has happened a few times since I moved here. Just takes some smoothing over of the land. Some seed in the fields. It’ll be good as new just in time for winter.”

I gave him a smile and a nod. “We’ll need to sit down and go through any extra equipment or supplies so I can include them when I send my report to Gabe.”

He shook his head and chuckled. “Do you think about anything but work?”

Only when I’m thinking about you.

“I don’t think about it when I’m in my Pilates class or when I’m at home or getting my nails done or…well, I guess I rarely think about it.”

“Then why are you sitting there thinking about it now?”

Because I don’t want to tell you I’m worrying about what you’re doing to the walls I built or how I’m going to need to rebuild them when I go back to New York.

“I don’t know. I guess I want the ranch to succeed. For the ideas we discussed to work.”

He glanced over at me again. “They will because they’re your ideas and you’re the smartest person I know.”

My throat went dry, pressure forming in my chest. This man. He was too good for me in ways I didn’t think he’d ever know. I gave him a smile, which he returned before his eyes settled back on the road. He kept my hand in his for the rest of the trip into town.

A glaze of rainwater sat on the road when we pulled into a spot. The town was a rush of energy, with the doors to the shops open and people busy working and talking.

“Mornin’, Sheila,” Hudson said, waving a hand to the shop owner as he hopped out of the truck.

“Mornin’ there,” she replied, tucking her broom under her arm and looking between us as Hudson came around to take my hand. “I see you two have stopped bickering.”

“Eh, she’s still a bitch,” he teased, and I bumped him with my elbow, strangely relaxed.

With the shake of her head, she said, “Those jeans look like they were made for you, Olivia.”

I looked down at my clothes, the tight jeans with the T-shirt tucked in, some brand on it I didn’t know. Returning my sight to hers, I said, “Well, the boutique owner who helped me choose them has great fashion sense.”

She blushed, her smile so big it looked like it would burst.

“And it’s Liv,” I added. “Only Hudson calls me Olivia.” Something that turned my insides into knots. “Oh, and people I don’t like.”

She gave a laugh, and I heard Hudson grumble something unintelligible. “Well then, Liv, what are you two up to?”

“Came to help, grab some breakfast, and make sure everyone made it through okay,” Hudson answered, which was good because I’d only been thinking about breakfast.

“We’re all good. The Colemans had a tree come down on their barn, and Old Man Quincy had some flooding in his basement, but nothing got damaged.”

“Yeah, his basement floods every storm.”

“Basement?” I blurted. “Do you have a basement?”

They both looked at me like I was insane.

“What?” I asked, looking between them.

“Of course I have a basement.”

“Well, how would I know that?”