Page 26 of One Wild Chance

“Okay, then we agree.” I latch Rosie’s stall behind us, still smelling his sandalwood soap and the press of his arm around my body.

“You’ve got a decent system,” he says.

“High praise coming from you.”

He smirks. “I can give compliments sometimes.”

I lift an eyebrow. “I won’t get used to it, then. Besides, it would ruin the whole brooding-cowboy thing.”

His lips quirk. “Is that what you think this is?”

I shrug. “Works for you.”

He tilts his head, amused. “Can’t tell if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“Depends on the day.”

“And today?”

My teeth run over my bottom lip. “It’s growing on me.” I hang the clipboard back on the hook. “Ask me again after you’ve mucked a few more stalls.”

But I know he won’t. He’s too proud to bring it up. And I’m too stubborn to admit I’d say yes.

I’m elbow-deep in zinnias when I glance up and see Jaxon running across the gravel drive between barns. The sun is blazing across my back, making my shirt stick to the layer of sweat coating my skin.

I leave the flowers in my wheelbarrow and head after him. “What’s going on? Where’s Earl?”

“Left for the day.” His gaze is fixed on the western pasture and there’s a deep crease between his brows.

“Jaxon, what are you looking for?”

He turns toward me. “Rebel got out. And before you say it—I closed the gate.”

“Did you get the second one…the safety latch?”

His lips clamp together.

I lift my hat and drag a sleeve over my forehead. “How long has she been out?”

“Don’t know.” He pauses. “I’ve been searching, but no luck yet. I don’t even know if she’d come to me if I found her.”

“Let me saddle up.” I tear off my garden gloves and head to the barn to get Sally ready for a ride.

I catch up to him at the gate where he’s on his mom’s horse, Scout. He looks surprisingly natural considering he hasn’t ridden in a while. For an athlete like him, it probably is like riding a bike.

“Which way do you think she went?” he asks.

I point to the back pasture. “Her favorite spot.” I nudge Sally forward. “Follow me.”

We ride in silence for a while, the heat scorching overhead. My cowboy hat provides a little shade, but Jaxon didn’t wear anything to shade his face—a mistake he won’t make tomorrow.

“There,” I say, coming around the bend.

Rebel is standing at the far fence where I guessed I’d find her, next to the old oak tree. Jaxon pulls Scout to a stop and jumps off, lead rope in hand. “You want to do the honors?”

He hands me the rope, and I approach her carefully, fumbling in my pocket for a peppermint. “Hey, girl,” I whisper, reaching up to stroke her neck before I clip the lead rope to her halter.

She doesn’t fight me on it, and I let out a breath. “You want to take her or should I?” I ask Jaxon.