— Present Day —
In the apple-crisp morning, with the eastern sky abloom with rose and gold, Bodine shouldered her briefcase and strode toward the stables.
She heard the chickens humming the way they did while Chester and Clyde had their morning wrestling match outside the bunkhouse. The dogs broke off their tumbling to race to her, tongues lolling, eyes bright—as if they hadn’t seen her in a month.
Nothing much started the day off with a laugh like a couple of madly happy dogs, so she rubbed and scratched them into insanity until they picked up their wrestling match.
She waved to a couple of out-and-about ranch hands, spoke casually to a couple more busy mucking stalls in the stables.
She stopped short when she saw Callen in his sheepskin jacket, comfortably worn boots, and dung-brown Stetson settling a saddle on the impressive Sundown’s back.
“Going for a ride?” she asked him.
He glanced over. “Sundown needs to stretch his legs, and I can use him at the resort today.”
“He’s an asset. He can go on the books, too, if you want.”
“No need for that.” While Callen cinched the saddle, the horse turned his head, nipped the hat off Callen’s head. “What have I told you about that?”
Sundown merely stuck his head over the low door, offering Bodine the hat.
“Why, thank you. It’s a nice hat.”
“It won’t be, if he keeps playing with it. Something you need?”
“I’ve got what I need, and that’s a horse of my own who needs to stretch his legs. I’m riding to work this morning.”
“It’s a good morning for it. I’ll wait for you. We might as well ride over together. Can I have my hat back, boss?”
She passed it over to him as she turned to walk to Leo’s stall. Heard Callen’s frustrated “Now, cut that out.”
As she saddled Leo, she wondered if she could teach him a couple of tricks. With his fondness for carrots and peppermint treats, bribery could work.
She heard the stable hands hooting with laughter. When she led Leo out, she saw why.
Sundown sat on the concrete run with the patient air of a man taking a break in an easy chair, while Callen leaned against the stall door, scrolling through his phone.
“That horse beats all, Cal,” one of the hands called out. “He beats all to hell and back.”
Callen looked over, smiled at Bodine. “Ready?”
“I am. Are you?”
Callen pushed off the door, took Sundown’s reins. “Let’s get going.” The horse pushed to his feet with the same indolent ease as his owner.
After a short study, a little nose snorting, the horses apparently deemed each other acceptable.
In the stable yard, Bodine swung into the saddle. “I had a route in mind, one that’ll give Leo a good run.”
“That’ll work.”
They started at a walk, warming muscles, as the light brightened and the sky blurred from rose to blue. The crisp air moved in the light wind, fluttering over her face, smelling like a winter potpourri of snow and pine.
“Did you get a chance to look at the schedule?” Bodine asked him.
“Yep. I see the farrier’s coming around tomorrow, and the vet the day after. I’ll make myself known to them. The new man’s starting this morning, so I’ll keep an eye on him, see if we were right about taking him on.”
“Next week’s Thanksgiving.”
“I heard that.”
“We get a lot of groups and families over that long weekend. I thought we might try out that little show, if you’re agreeable. Nothing we’d advertise off-site, just a little bonus for people already here.”
“I guess we can see how it goes.”
“I’ll schedule it.”
They rode down an incline, across a narrow ravine, and up again where a herd of deer slipped silent as spirits through the woods. The tops of the lodgepoles whooshed in the wind.
“Time to stretch those legs.” Bodine nudged Leo into a gallop.
Cold slapped her cheeks as Leo’s hooves rang over the road. He kept his ears up, his head high, showing her he enjoyed the ride as much as she. Callen rode beside her, his horse matching Leo’s stride as if harnessed in tandem.
When the road forked, Bodine turned right, slowing to a canter, then an easy trot. Reveling in the ride, the air, the morning, she tossed her long braid over her shoulder and decided she wanted more.
“We can take the trail up and around.” She gestured to the track through the trees marked by the Bodine shamrock brand. “It’s a pretty winter ride, and it’ll take us to another good stretch before we split off.”
“Lead the way. Chase and I rode these trails now and then as boys, when your father cut him loose for a couple hours. I remember when you added those cabins we just passed.”
“It’s quiet enough you can forget they’re there.”
They wound up where the snow was piled thick and clung like white fur to branches. Off the trail she spotted signs of deer and fox in prints and scat. “You can just smell the smoke,” she added, “from the cabins where guests are up and have a fire going. But mostly, it’s just air.”
“Why’d you take the office instead of the horses?”
“I’m good at it.” She turned in her saddle, looking back at him. “I’m good at horses, but there are plenty who are good with horses. I like managing all the moving parts, making sure they run smooth day after day. Or making it seem like they do even if we’re scrambling where the guests don’t see. Also, I guess I like never knowing exactly what I might be dealing with on any given day, but making an agenda, clicking off the boxes so I know most of what’s coming and can figure out the rest.”
She turned back again as the track began its descent. “I do miss the horses, that everyday and anytime connection. I’m going to start riding to work more than I have been.”
She gave Leo a pat on the neck. “Guests will get a kick out of seeing that—the general manager riding around. Sets a tone.”
“Always thinking.”
“Oh, I am.”
Laughing, she swiveled around again as the horses stepped back onto the road. “My mind’s a busy place, Skinner. I like riding and letting it empty out for a time. Are you up for another gallop?”
“Sugar, I’m always up for a gallop.”
“I just bet you are.” She shouted, “Cha!” and sent Leo racing. Once again, Callen had his horse matching her speed and rhythm.
She was glad she’d taken the long way, the roundabout way. It meant some doubling back, but she had the time.
On impulse, she took the turn away from Bodine Town.
Just a few minutes more before she aimed for the office, for the workday, for the agenda. Even as she told herself it was time to stop, time to turn back, she spotted a car stopped on the side of the road.
She thought little of it, nearly didn’t stop.
She dropped to a trot. “We need to … Wait a minute. That looks like Billy Jean’s car.”
She walked her horse up to it. “It is her car.”