Page 69

“Hank, this is my best friend, Blair,” I tell him. “Apparently, she came for a visit.”

“I hope that’s okay,” Blair says, releasing Hank’s hand.

“Of course,” he says. “Any friend of Hattie’s is welcome. I’m afraid you two will need to share the guest cabin, though.”

“That works for me,” Blair says.

Lincoln takes a step so he’s standing right beside me, a movement that Hank tracks.

I look up at him before clearing my throat. “And this is Lincoln Galloway,” I say to my friend.

Blair crosses her arms. “Oh, I know who you are.”

Lincoln’s eyes move briefly to Hank, then back to Blair. “Uh, nice to meet you.”

“Well, we better get back to work,” Hank says. “Dad is waiting for us in the foaling barn, probably wondering what’s taking us so long.”

“Okay, I’ll get Blair settled in the guest cabin.”

He nods and walks away. Lincoln gives me a small smile, linking his hand with mine for the briefest second before following Hank.

I watch him walk away in his Wranglers, his long legs eating up the space quickly until he’s right beside Hank.

“Okay, now I get it,” Blair muses.

I turn to find her watching me intently.

“That man is prime Montana meat.”

My face feels warm, and I know I’m probably bright red.

Blair’s head falls back as she laughs at me. “This is too good. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

I scoff. “Like what? I’ve dated.”

“Sure,” she agrees. “But you’re looking at Lincoln with the passion you always have on your face before a competition. Before you guide Oakley through a perfect jump routine.” She smiles at me. “I’ve never seen you look at a man like that.”

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the truth of her words. “Let me show you our cabin. Is your luggage in the back?”

Blair smirks. “You can change the subject, but we both know I’m right.”

Once we get Blair’s bags unloaded in the guest cabin and I show her where to park her rental car, I bring her back over to Hank’s and give her a tour. She’s as fascinated as I was at the realization this giant cabin only has two bedrooms and an office. It’s like Hank made his peace with just him and Otto living here, like he had no plans or desire to get married and settle down.

I show her the office last. It’s right off a hallway attached to the kitchen. The office is enclosed behind French doors with glass windowpanes. And the room is a complete disaster. I turn the doorknob, and we step inside the office.

“Woah,” Blair says, clearly aghast. “How does he get any work done in this chaos?”

I huff a laugh through my nose; I knew this room would give her a conniption. Blair is a type A, organized neat freak.

An L-shaped oak desk is pushed against the wall, with a large window right behind it—showing a great view of the mountains. Several awards hang on the wall, Hank’s breeding licenses, and Otto’s veterinarian degrees. There are files and papers stacked atop the desk, so many you can hardly see the actual desk. The office chair has a saddle pad draped over the top, and an opened box rests on the seat. Receipts and invoices are scattered across the wood floor, along with several empty boxes and a few that are still full of veterinary supplies.

Blair rubs her hands together. “I want to get my hands on this mess so bad. The things I could do in here.”

I waggle my index finger in her face. “Nope! Don’t even think about it.”

Ignoring me, she swipes her finger through the thick dust on a shelf that’s hung on the wall. “Gross.” She rests her hip against the desk, finally turning to look at me. “Okay, I’ve gone along for your little tour. Now be real with me. Why are you still here? How long are you staying?”

“But you haven’t seen the barns yet,” I say, turning to leave.