Everyone watched Maizy run to the closet by the door and pull out her jacket.
Austin stepped forward. “It’s entirely up to you, Ivy. But you’ll always have a place in my pack. I’ll stand by your decisions and we’ll work out something so your baby has a watchdog to look after him.”
“Or her,” Izzy added.
“Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop,” Maizy sang out.
“Peanut, shut the door,” Denver said. “You’ll catch a cold.”
“But there’s a horse,” she said excitedly, pointing out the door.
Trevor peered over her. “She’s right. Lorenzo just pulled up.”
“And the plot thickens,” Wheeler said darkly, moving toward the door.
“What’s going on?” Izzy said in a low voice as we trickled onto the front porch.
Maizy started to run down the steps until Denver snatched her hand and pulled her back. “Stay up here.”
“But I want to pet it. Can I? Just one time. Please?”
The group meandered down the porch to the right. When they moved out of my way, my breath caught.
A blanket of heavy fog surrounded the property—a contrast against the lush grass, which was still green.
Lorenzo Church rode up on a majestic blue roan. It was a stout horse with the blackest mane and tail I’d ever seen. Black freckles spattered his grey coat, and the silver sheen on his body caught the light. His dark legs were restless, moving back and forth as Lorenzo sat astride him bareback.
I swallowed nervously and set my cane against the railing so I wouldn’t get mud on the end from the damp grass. I descended the steps, and the whispers among my pack faded as I slowly approached Lorenzo, unsure of what to think.
Without a word, I placed my hand on the horse’s muzzle and looked him in the eye. “You’re handsome,” I said, planting a kiss on his nose.
Lorenzo swung his leg over the back and landed on his feet. “I should say the same of you, sweet Ivy.”
My heart squeezed in my chest. Was this a dream? Maybe I’d fallen asleep and was caught in a mystical realm.
Lorenzo held out his hand. “Come with me and let’s walk away from curious eyes. I feel like an ant beneath a magnifying glass.”
I smiled and bumped his arm with my shoulder. “That sounds like a familiar line I’ve heard before.” The grass crunched beneath our feet and I could see it was slowly losing its color from the cold weather we’d been getting.
“How have you been?” he asked quietly.
“Well. And you?”
“Hmm. Not so well.”
The horse followed behind us, drawing in heavy breaths.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
Lorenzo glanced over his shoulder with a cold stare. “Trouble. Let’s just say it was a long ride over.”
I giggled and gripped his hand tighter. It felt so good to have him walking beside me. “I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing.”
Once we had distanced ourselves farther from the house, Lorenzo turned to face me. “I don’t know how to talk to you,” he said, stumbling over his words. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, you’ve never had trouble speaking your mind before.”
“Yes, and they’ve always been the wrong words in your eyes.”
“But they’re your words, and those are the only words I want to hear. No matter how brash or crude, at least I know they’re honest.”
He shifted from one leg to the other. “If I say the wrong thing, it could change the way you feel about me.”
A smile touched my lips. “Yes, it could. Maybe the wrong thing is the right thing to say.”
He shook his head. “I’ve never met a woman quite like you. I’m not a soft man, Ivy. I can’t change who I am to become one of them,” he said, throwing a nod toward the house.
I almost snorted. Did he think I wanted a man like Denver or even Jericho?
“Did I ask for a soft man?” I reached out and touched his wrist, taking his hand in mine. “I want an honest man. A faithful man. A protective man—one who stands up for me and isn’t ashamed of my past or who I am. A man who can make sound decisions, but also a man who will listen to reason.”
“And what of a loving man?”
I let go and pushed the horse’s muzzle away. “Perhaps I’m not a woman who was fashioned to be loved.”
His hands appeared out of nowhere and cupped my cheeks, offering the warmth from his body as he moved closer. Lorenzo looked down at me, strands of his long hair caught in the wind. My stomach knotted.
“You are a woman to be worshipped. I am a proud man who in all my years has never bowed to anyone. But I would kneel before you,” he said, brushing his thumb across my cheekbone. “You are a warrior, and in another life your spirit was a queen.”
“And you were a bee who made honey with your tongue.”
A smile danced in his eyes. “You were right,” he continued. “There’s no point in courting you. That would only show the uncertainty of my feelings, and I want it to be crystal clear that I would lay down my life for you.”