Page 17 of Trying Not to Need You

“There she is,” Alice says as soon as I step into the kitchen.

My grin is immediate. “Hey, Alice. Something smells good,” I tell her.

“I’m making potato soup and grilled cheese for lunch. I have apple fritters for dessert. You want one now?”

“Tempting, but no. I came for a few carrots.”

“Ah, going to visit the horses.” She smiles kindly. “There’s a bunch that was just delivered with our order this morning. Help yourself.” She nods to the crates of produce.

“I don’t want to leave you short,” I tell her.

She shakes her head and grins. “Girl, I knew you were home, and you’d be sneaking in here. I ordered extra. Go on, grab yourself a bunch, and don’t forget your coat,” she says, before turning to get back to work on stirring the soup.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, my voice cracking. Alice has worked here for as long as I can remember, and I’ve missed her. Apparently, I was more homesick than I thought.

Rushing back to my office, I slip into my coat to ward off the chilly Tennessee December winds and rush outside to the stables with my bundle of carrots in hand. I’ve been out here to visit every day since I’ve been back—well, minus the first couple of days. That was a busy weekend. But every day since last Monday, I’ve been to the stables to visit, and it’s been good for my soul.

Pulling open the door, I step inside and move toward the first stall. “Hey, there, Buckwheat,” I say calmly, and the light tan with dark brown mane horse comes trotting over. “I missed you, boy.” I rub my hand over his mane. Buckwheat is a gelding, which means he’s been fixed, and he’s one of the gentlest trail horses we have on the estate. He was ours when we were kids.

He sniffs toward the carrots, trying to grab one, and I laugh, pulling them out of his reach. “You have to be good if you want a treat.”

“I’ll be good,” a deep timbre says from behind me. I startle and whip around so fast that I lose my balance, and Macklin rushes to catch me, bracing his hands on my hips from behind.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low and husky, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

“You scared me,” I say, stepping forward and out of his hold. I pull in a deep breath and slowly exhale before turning to face him.

“I didn’t mean to. I was just coming to check on the horses. We have a ride scheduled this afternoon.”

“That’s right. You’re managing the stables. I’ve been out here every day and haven’t seen you.” My words almost sound like an accusation, but it’s not. I mean, I don’t need to know his schedule or anything.

“I usually come out early in the mornings, muck the stalls, and get them food and water before going back to my place to do the same.”

“You still have horses at your place?”

He nods. “Yeah, I’ve been doing some training. That’s kind of my side hustle, I guess, outside of managing the stables here. All of these horses are mine. Well, except for this guy. He’s always been yours.”

“We used to fight over him.” I laugh as I turn to Buckwheat and run my hands over his mane again. “I was a brat demanding to our parents and my sisters that he was all mine. He loved me more, didn’t you, boy?” I ask Buckwheat. His nose nudges me, but it’s not because he’s agreeing with me. He just wants my carrots.

“You think I could take him?” Macklin asks.

“What?” I ask, turning to look at him.

“You said he was yours, but I think I can give him some competition.” His green eyes sparkle with mirth.

My heart kicks up its rhythm. “What? You think you want to be mine, too?” I tease him, averting my gaze back to Buckwheat.

“I do.” He steps closer, and I can feel his hot breath against my cheek, but I keep my eyes on Buckwheat. “What do you think, boy? You ready to fight for our girl here?” he asks the horse.

Macklin lifts his hand to pet the horse, while the other moves to rest against my back. Even through the layers of my heavy winter coat and the sweater I’m wearing, I swear I can feel his warmth.

“If you’re trying to cheer me up from my breakup, you don’t have to. I’m fine.”

“Are you?” he asks, turning his gaze back to me.

This time, I turn to look at him. “I really am. It was a long time coming. If anything, I’m pissed at myself for not breaking things off sooner.”

“You dodged a bullet, and now you’re back home where you’re supposed to be.”