CHAPTER 12
Harper woke up early Saturday morning, needing to get a move on. The barrel race in Naches started that afternoon, and she wanted to get there early so that she and Spartan could have a moment to relax. As with most barrel races, the more experienced riders went first, then the lower divisions as the night progressed. So hopefully, it wouldn’t be a late night, and she could duck out of there soon after she raced. All she wanted was a quiet evening of Netflix and a beer.
Life might be boring but at least it was predictable and secure.
She started the coffeepot and headed outside. Last night, she and Jasper had hooked up the trailer to her pickup, so all she needed to do was double-check her tack and load up Spartan once she was ready.
As she went into the barn, Spartan nickered, pawing the ground. He had spotted the trailer and was itching to go. He loved to race almost as much as she did.
The wind in her face, the speed, the way she had control...
It spoke deep to her soul.
She gave her horse a quick pat on his neck and headed back to the house, Spartan’s impatient whinny following her.
A smile teased her lips as she heard him whinny again. The screen door slammed shut, and she winced, hoping she hadn’t awakened Jasper or Kessed.
When she didn’t hear any grumblings from their room, she headed to the coffeepot and pulled down a travel mug. She filled it to the brim and opened the fridge door, grabbing the sack lunch she’d made the night before. As she passed the pantry, she balanced the mug and sack lunch in one hand, and grabbed a granola bar for breakfast. This time, she was much more careful to let the screen door shut slowly and made her way to the pickup. The sun was well over the horizon, but it wasn’t past eight a.m. Naches wasn’t too far away, but registration started early, and the racing started at noon. So, she tucked her food and coffee into the truck and tossed her keys onto the driver’s seat. She ran back to the house and quietly ducked inside to grab her purse then closed the door and screen door. After tossing her purse in the truck, she headed to the barn. Spartan nickered a greeting and bobbed his head impatiently, ready to go.
“All right, all right,” Harper groused good-naturedly. “Let’s get going.”
She led the horse out of the stall and toward the trailer. It was an old, faded white one-horse trailer, but it did the job. Spartan waited while she swung the trailer gate open. As she led him forward, he took a funny little step then led with his right hoof into the trailer. Like most horses, Spartan had a foot he liked to lead with. The quick shuffle-step assured that he could do just that.
Harper tied off his halter to the trailer’s hook at the end and patted along his body as she stepped down. She made sure everything was set up correctly then swung the gate closed, double-checking it was secure.
“You ready?” she called to Spartan.
He met her gaze through the bars of the trailer.
“Good. You didn’t really have a choice,” she told him and headed to her pickup. The motor started right up, and she slowly eased out of the drive. Her truck’s engine roared with a little more emphasis with the added weight of the trailer, but that was to be expected. Spartan wasn’t a small horse.
She turned on the radio and sipped her coffee as she took the freeway toward Yakima. The fall air was crisp and clean, energizing her as the canyon was bathed in the sun’s rich glow. Fall was probably her favorite time of year.
As usual, she kept an eye on the trailer behind her. About an hour later, she took the cutoff toward White Pass and away from Yakima to the Featherland Ranch where the Fall Frenzy was held. She noted the other trucks with horse trailers that were heading the same direction, all probably competing. Her blood pumped with excitement at the anticipation of the race.
As she pulled into the Featherland Ranch about a half hour later, she was grinning with full excitement, impatient to get racing. Slowly, she took the gravel road to the arena and parked in the pasture set aside for the competitors and their trailers. After killing the engine, she stepped into the freshly mowed grass and inhaled deeply. The scent of horses, grass, and dirt sang to her, and she walked back to check on Spartan. He whinnied as soon as he saw her, and pawed the trailer floor and making a racket.
“Knock it off,” Harper scolded kindly. “I’ll be right back. I gotta make sure I’m all set and registered.”
She blew a kiss to her horse and headed toward the barn. A long line of people were checking in, and she recognized several faces. The Frenzy was a fun event, and usually pretty family friendly. They encouraged kids to compete and even had a potluck on Sunday night after the last race. Harper had never stayed for it but had heard it was a fun time.
A few other people arrived and filed into line behind her, some of them familiar, one in particular. Harper steeled herself with a deep breath. Cassie Markston was one hell of a barrel racer.
And she damn well knew it.
Cassie had the current time to beat in their division this year, and that wouldn’t have been so bad, if she hadn’t crowed about it incessantly. It didn’t help that Cassie also had a tendency to ask about Jasper.
Every. Freaking. Race.
And every time, Harper was more than honest about his almost-married status.
It pissed her off.
Harper tamped down her more aggressive nature and focused on the line ahead, hoping maybe Cassie wouldn’t notice her.
Her luck lasted long enough for her to check in and get a race time, but she knew it had ended when she turned to head back to the truck and Cassie’s big brown eyes zeroed in.
“Hey, Harp.” Cassie gave a small wave, her gaze immediately flickering around Harper as if searching for someone else.
I wonder who? Harper groaned inwardly. She was thrilled Jasper wasn’t planning on attending. With his and Kessed’s wedding coming up in two weeks, they had plenty to do and had asked if she’d be okay with them sitting this race out.
“Hi, Cassie.” Harper forced a kind smile, not halting her pace as she moved toward the pickup.
“Wait, is your brother going to be here?” Cassie asked, predictably.
Harper glanced behind her and didn’t stop. “Nope, wedding’s coming up. He’s busy with his almost-wife. Bye!” She hurried on, knowing she was simply dodging the bullet temporarily.
She heaved a sigh of relief when the girl didn’t follow her. She headed to the pickup and soon was tying off Spartan to the trailer while she got him all saddled. She loved to deck out her gear for races. The flashy silver and turquoise detail work on her saddle always added that extra splash of sparkle that she loved so much. She wore her blinged-out jeans and larger belt buckle, as cliché as it was. Her boots had turquoise stitching that matched the embellishments on her saddle and also on Spartan’s bridle. The bright color stood out perfectly against his dark coat, making it flash when they raced.
Soon she was applying the finishing touches and glanced at her phone.
She had one hour before the racing started. She’d be one of the first to compete, so she needed to warm Spartan up before they were actually timed. She unhooked the lead rope and grabbed the reins. After grasping the saddle horn, she slung herself onto Spartan’s back, murmuring softly to him as she led him away from the trailer.
Pickups with trailers made a steady stream into the pasture as people continued to arrive, and Harper paused as she waited to cross over toward the arena. Several others were heading the same direction, and she nodded a greeting. The arena gate was wide open, and Spartan filed in, his dark ears perked up, alert. He pawed the ground restlessly when she pulled back on the reins, eager to get around the barrels.
“You’ll get going soon enough. Wait for a second,” Harper whispered softly as she petted his neck. But she understood his anticipation. Her heart pounded an excited rhythm as she took in the layout of the arena. It was the usual setup, with the barrels rolled away to give more room for the riders to warm up their horses, but soon those barrels would be rolled back out, and the timing would begin. Each second counting. Each turn making or breaking your chances.
Some people jumped out of airplanes.
Harper rode like the devil chased her heels.
And loved every moment.
When she finished taking in the arena, she urged Spartan into a walk around the perimeter. On the second pass, she warmed him up into a trot, her grin widening as she relaxed into the familiar rhythm. The fall air blew across her face, cooling her in contrast to the intensity of the Indian summer sun. Others joined in around the arena, and Harper urged Spartan into a lope, keeping him from going too fast, yet warming up his muscles so that he’d be ready to go when their number was called.
Shit.
Harper glanced down and realized she hadn’t put on the number given to her from registration. Sighing, she pulled up the horse, and he impatiently slowed down, tossing his head.
“Easy,” Harper scolded gently.
Spartan settled but chewed his bit in a frustrated manner as she turned him toward the arena exit. Heading toward the trailer, she caught sight of a familiar truck.
Her brows pinched as the vehicle pulled into the pasture. The familiar electric blue wasn’t an uncommon color for a Ford, but it wasn’t common either. She almost followed it but turned toward her trailer instead, her priority being to find her number and get ready to race. Once she reached her trailer, she slid off the saddle and picked up the packet from the passenger side of her pickup. Sure enough, the number was safety pinned in the middle. The black numbers stood out against the white cardstock as she pinned it to her shirt just over her tummy and slammed the door closed.
“Okay, we’re officially ready now.” She arched a brow as she walked to Spartan and caressed his nose.
He exhaled his warm breath across her hand.
“Let’s try this again.” Harper sighed then mounted back on the saddle. Turning the horse back toward the arena, her gaze focused on a petite blonde and a tall, broad man beside her. As they crossed in front of another approaching pickup and headed toward the arena, she could have sworn it was Laken and Sterling.
But why would they come to her race?
She hadn’t invited them.
Not that she didn’t want them there; it had just never crossed her mind.
Her heart picked up speed as she guided Spartan back toward the arena. Each time she tried to get a clear view, something or someone would block her line of sight.
When she crossed the dirt road and had a clear path to the arena gate, she scanned the crowd. It was mostly people waiting to race, but a few spectators were scattered throughout in lawn chairs and leaning against the iron fence. She scanned through the people and a grin spread across her face when she recognized Laken.
And Sterling.
Spartan sidestepped when she tugged his head away from the arena gate, but he settled down and followed her direction, carefully moving past several others waiting near the fence.
“Hey!” Harper called out, flickering her gaze between Sterling and Laken, trying to keep the focus equal when she was tempted to keep her eyes on Sterling.
He was wearing a blue flannel button-down shirt, his skin a golden tan and his gray eyes hidden behind aviator sunglasses.
“Hi!” Laken waved enthusiastically. “There you are! We were looking for you!” She jumped from her place on the fence and strode toward Harper.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here! This is a nice surprise.” Harper grinned in appreciation.
“Well, someone wanted to test his newfound freedom.” Laken arched a brow then glanced over her shoulder to where Sterling was following.
His lips spread into a wide grin as he reached into his pocket and then dangled a set of keys.
“Ah, so you’re saying the roads are no longer a safe place.” Harper winked.
“With you driving, they never were to begin with,” he shot back, taking off his sunglasses and giving her an amused grin.
“Eh, that’s your opinion.”
Laken shook her head. “So, you’re racing soon? Kessed said you’re usually one of the first, so we had to hurry if we wanted to see you.”
“Yeah, I usually am.”
Spartan stomped impatiently.
“Easy,” Harper murmured softly. “I thought you were doing wedding stuff with Kessed today.”
Harper flickered a glance to Sterling, quickly gauging his reaction. It was almost habit, but she was relieved to see that his expression hadn’t been affected by her question.
Maybe he was really over it. Her heart did a little leap at the prospect.
She glanced back to Laken, pushing back her emotional response.
“We got most of it done this past week. Right now, it’s more of the hurry-up-and-wait game. Which sucks, but at least we’re not scrambling,” Laken answered.
“Yeah, better to be prepared.”
“Plus, with this one’s new clearance to drive, I figured it might be smart if he had a traveling buddy,” Laken teased as she grinned at her big brother.
“Wow, thanks. You really know how to make a man feel small.” Sterling bumped his sister’s shoulder jokingly. “But it is probably a good idea. As much as I really hate to admit it in front of you—and you.” Sterling arched a brow as he met Harper’s gaze.
“You might not live it down.”
“Pretty sure I was never going to anyway,” Sterling replied, beleaguered. “So, when do we get to see you do your thing?”
The announcer came over the PA system and gave a fifteen-minute warning.
“Soon.” Harper smiled.
“I’ll finally get to see you in action, see if you have moves to back up all that hot air you give off,” Sterling goaded. His head tilted, showing off the cut of his jawline as he issued the challenge.
Damn, he looked good, and Harper glanced away to keep her thoughts together. Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze with a challenging one of her own.
“I’ll remember that hot air comment next time we go around with Margaret. Your therapy just got an upgrade.”
“Ouch.” Laken grinned.
“Challenge accepted.”
“Ten minutes,” the announcer started. “Will the first participants please get ready?”
“That’s my cue.” Harper glanced to the opening gate and back. “I’ll see you guys in a bit.”
“I’ll be waiting to be impressed,” Sterling told her.
“Yeah, that won’t take much. Trust me.” Laken smacked her brother on the shoulder.
“I know.” Harper arched a brow and grinned at Sterling, who was enduring the ribbing good-naturedly. She gave a tiny wave and directed Spartan back toward the arena entrance. Several others were already lined up, and she took her place toward the back where her number correlated with the others.
Soon the announcer welcomed everyone to the race and went through several details.
Spartan blew out a frustrated breath and chomped his bit.
“I know. I’m impatient too. Hold up. We’ll get our turn.” Harper glanced around, noticing several familiar faces. Cassie was toward the front of the line, one of the first to race. Harper exhaled a breath. It would be nice to know the time to beat.
It could also be a little intimidating if Cassie had a particularly good run.
Her thoughts then flickered to Sterling. For once, she hoped Cassie’s fixation stayed on Jasper.
Sterling was an even more enticing prospect.
Damn it all.
Just thinking about it made her frustrated; a heat burned in her chest.
She tried to think of what it was....
It wasn’t jealousy.
She was being possessive.
Immediately, she wished that Sterling and Laken hadn’t come. Not only was she all bent out of shape from this new reaction, but if Cassie caught wind of Sterling, Harper would never hear the end of it.
She blew out a frustrated breath just as the announcer called out the first rider’s name.
The crowd cheered on the racer, and soon the time was called, signaling the race over.
17.89
Not bad.
But easy to beat.
She forced her head back into the game. Focus.
Leaning down, she breathed in the scent of leather, horse, and fresh air. She listened to Spartan’s breathing, the sound of horses all around her. Finding her center, she exhaled a slow breath, running the race around the barrels through her mind, again and again. Slowly the line moved up, and with each race that started, she mentally ran through the barrels with Spartan, leaning, breathing, making mental notes on what to remember.
Cassie’s name was called, and Harper listened, hearing the thunder of her horse’s hooves as they wound around the barrels and then through the gate.
17.44
Harper exhaled a tense breath.
That was a good time.
Really good.
Spartan could beat it, but it would have to be a damn near perfect run.
In barrel racing, the tenth and one hundredths of a second counted, and usually made the determination of winner and loser.
All Harper needed was to beat Cassie’s time by a hundredth of a second. But that was much easier said than done.
Cassie exited the arena and passed by the line, meeting Harper’s gaze.
“Good run, Cassie,” Harper congratulated her. There was nothing gained by being petty.
“Thanks.” Cassie smiled, her expression skeptical. “Good luck.”
Harper grinned but didn’t reply.
She focused back on Spartan.
On the line ahead.
The race halted for a minute while they raked the dirt around the barrels, keeping the surface fresh for the next set of horses.
And as the minutes ticked by, she found herself at the beginning of the line.
So far, Cassie’s time was the one to beat, and she tuned out everything around her as she focused on the arena. The dirt was kicked up around the barrels, the dark earth in contrast to the dry dust covering the rest of the arena, making a clear path of attack. Not too smooth, not too rugged.
Perfect.
Spartan’s ears were perked, listening intently for Harper’s command. As the rider ahead finished, she sucked in a deep breath, concentrating intently on her horse, on the timing line, on the arena.
When they called her name, she tightened her grip on the reins, the rope taut under the pressure. She adjusted her heel in the stirrups and blew out a breath.
“Hi-ya!” She kicked Spartan’s flanks, and the horse leapt forward, anticipating the command. She crossed the threshold into the arena, signaling the start of the time. Spartan’s hooves drove into the dirt, and as they approached the first barrel, she cut him just wide enough to circle to the left, leaning as his hooves slid and he turned sharply. Lifting her boot slightly, she just skimmed the edge of the metal barrel, thankfully not even moving it.
“Go, go!” Harper shouted, leaning over Spartan’s strong neck as they crossed the arena to their next target, the second barrel. As they drew near, Harper pulled the reins sharply to the right, and Spartan responded with a damn near perfect turn that circled the barrel with no more than an inch of clearance between the metal and her boot. She leaned as they finished the turn; kicking him swiftly she urged him to the last barrel. Spartan’s hooves continued to pound the dirt, his attention riveted on the barrel as it grew closer and closer. Harper didn’t dare glance at the clock; all her focus needed to be on Spartan.
The barrel.
The turn.
She leaned to the right as she tugged the reins the same direction. Spartan’s hooves kicked up dirt as he circled the last barrel, his body tense beneath her as he finished the tight turn. “Hi-ya, go, go, go!” Harper gave a final swift kick to Spartan’s flanks, leaning forward to encourage him, her gaze fixated on the time line as they flew over it.
She slowly pulled up the reins, giving Spartan a chance to slow down carefully from his breakneck pace.
Harper held her breath as the announcer came over the PA system.
“Harper Matthews, 17.39. We have a new leader, folks!”
The crowed gave a rousing applause, and Harper’s face flushed with heat as she grinned widely. “Good work, boy.” She leaned down and smoothed Spartan’s neck, crooning to him. “You were magnificent.”
Spartan shook his head, his bridle jingling.
“I’m so proud of you.” She kissed the horse’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent. “So proud.”
She straightened and headed back toward the trailer. With her run done, she didn’t need to keep Spartan all saddled up. If anything, she’d be heading home after her division ended, which would be soon.
As she slid off Spartan’s back, her legs protested the movement. They were tense from her rigid control during the race, and she hadn’t realized she’d failed to relax once the race was over.
She’d pay for that tomorrow.
“Hey!” Laken’s voice cut into Harper’s attention.
“Hi! Sorry, I was going to take care of Spartan and then find you guys.” Harper lifted a hand in greeting, noticing that Sterling’s stride was strong, the limp completely gone.
“Sure you were. I see how it is, horses then people.” Sterling eyed Spartan and gave him a wide berth as he came to close to Harper.
“Still scared of horses?” Harper teased.
“Shitless,” Sterling answered boldly.
“At least you’re honest.” Harper rolled her eyes.
“That was a great run. I’m glad we got to see it! Is that a record for you guys? It seemed pretty near perfect,” Laken asked, coming around and patting Spartan’s nose.
“It wasn’t bad. That’s for sure. There’s always room for improvement, but I’m pretty pleased.” She grinned at Laken and stepped forward to tie off the lead rope to Spartan’s neck so that she could take off the bridle.
“I wish you could have seen Sterling’s face, Harper. Don’t let him tell you anything other than he was duly impressed.” Laken gave a challenging grin to her brother.
“Seriously though, there was dirt flying, and you were riding so freaking fast. How do you not fall? Really, inquiring minds want to know,” Sterling asked, his gray eyes sparkling with interest.
“Practice.” Harper slid the bridle off and hung it on the side of the trailer.
“And brass balls, apparently,” Sterling added, earning a smack on the shoulder from Laken.
“Really?” She gave him an annoyed glare.
“I can honestly say I’d rather be shot at than do what Harper just did. I’m man enough to admit it.” Sterling held up in hands.
“Some of us are braver than others,” Harper taunted. “But to set the record straight, I think you’re bat shit crazy for not minding the whole war idea. Freaks the hell out of me.”
“Then we’re even. You ride horses. I’ll shoot guns.”
“Deal.”
Laken gave an exasperated sigh. “So what now?”
Harper started to work on the cinch of the saddle. “Now I finish with Spartan, comb him down, and make sure he has plenty of water. Then I head up to the arena as they announce the finalists, and when they are done, so am I.” Harper met Laken’s gaze for a moment then moved to take off the saddle.
“Hey, I got that.” Sterling moved around Spartan’s head and to the left side of the horse. “I’ve been told it’s good for me to balance, you know, muscle development and such.”
Harper took a step back, but couldn’t go far with the trailer behind her, and Spartan in front of her. “By all means.” She waved to the saddle. “Clearly, your therapist knows what she is doing.”
“Sometimes.” Sterling gave her a sidelong glance as he lifted the saddle from Spartan’s back. “Where do you want it?”
Harper motioned to the front of the trailer where there was a small door to the tack storage. As Sterling turned, Harper’s gaze slid from his dusty blond hair down to his broad shoulders. The tension caused by carrying the saddle made his musculature sharper, cutting a definite shape through his tight shirt. She flickered her gaze to his leg, taking a moment to appreciate the perfect shape of his ass before studying the way he walked. His limp wasn’t present, but he was favoring the leg with a slightly uneven stride. “Walk even,” she called out, unable to help herself.
“Don’t peacock, you mean?” He glanced over his shoulder as he set the saddle in the storage area.
“You’re walking like you’re afraid to trust your leg.” Harper met his gaze, keeping hers open so he wouldn’t think she was teasing about something that could be taken as hurtful.
“She’s right,” Laken chimed in, reminding Harper of her presence.
Had she seen Harper’s intent study of her brother?
Sterling twisted his lips as he turned back toward Harper. “You can’t cut a guy any slack, can you?”
“Nope. Not when I know you can do better.” Harper hitched a shoulder.
“And here I thought we were here to watch you and keep the focus off me for once,” Sterling grumbled, but Harper noted that as he walked back, his weight was far more evenly distributed. “Better?”
“Yup,” Laken answered.
Harper finished combing Spartan and made sure he was tied off securely to the trailer before she indicated to the arena. “You guys ready?”
“Waiting on you,” Sterling answered.
Laken smacked his shoulder again.
“Aw, it’s nice to have a change of pace. Usually, I’m waiting on you,” Harper replied sweetly as she started toward the arena.
Laken unsuccessfully tried to hold back a snicker.
Sterling shot her a mock glare.
“What?” Laken asked, still laughing.
“You enjoy this too much,” Sterling accused his sister.
“Yeah, I really do. It’s nice to see someone set you on your ass.”
“My pleasure.” Harper gave a wink to Laken.
Sterling shook his head and ignored Harper’s comment. As they approached the gate, the final rider was going through the barrels.
“17.67.”
“How do they know when to start or stop time?” Sterling asked as they leaned against the iron fence.
“See that line in the dirt?” Harper pointed to the painted line that was all but obliterated.
“Yeah.”
“Once you cross it, they start time, and then they stop time when you cross it again when you’re finished,” Harper explained.
“And you can’t touch the barrels?” Laken asked.
“Yeah, you can, actually. You can’t knock them over. If you do, they add five seconds to your time and basically eliminate you from the running. If you’re lucky, you might be able to stabilize it if you know you’re about to knock it over, and that’s allowed, but usually your time suffers from it regardless. The idea is to not really touch them, just cut the circle around them.”
“Makes sense. What do you get when you win?” Sterling asked.
Harper noticed the way he’d phrased the question.
When.
Not if.
A warm sensation filled her chest. It was nice to have someone believe in her.
She bit back a wry grin. “When,” she emphasized, “I win, I’ll get some prize money, bragging rights, etcetera.”
“Cool,” Laken answered.
The announcer came over the PA system once more, this time giving the rundown of the final times.
Harper listened intently as they started from the third place and went up.
“In third, we have...Amanda Wilson from Yakima, Washington, with the time of 17.60!”
The crowd clapped and waited as he continued. “In second place, we have Cassie Markston from Toppenish, Washington, with the time of 17.44!”
Harper clapped, her heart pounding fiercely. She didn’t watch the rest of the race, but she was still quite certain no one had beaten her time.
But there was always a chance.
She held her breath as the announcer came over the system again. “And in first place, taking home the grade prize of one thousand dollars cash, with a time of 17.39, we have Harper Matthews from Ellensburg, Washington!”
Laken squealed and pulled Harper into a hug.
Harper froze for a moment at the quick contact then returned the hug, welcoming the friendly action.
“Good work, Harper!” Laken congratulated her as she released her from their quick embrace.
“Not bad.” Sterling regarded her with a wide smile, his gaze meeting hers, his expression approving and warm. “Come here.” He opened up his arms and pulled her into a tight hug.
His chest was warm against her ear as she leaned in, prepared to immediately let go and take a step back.
But apparently, Sterling had other plans. His arms banded around her tightly, securely, as he gently kissed the top of her head. Her senses were overwhelmed with the scent of spicy aftershave and clean laundry all wrapped around a sexy man. It was sensory overload in the best way possible, and she didn’t want to let go.
“Good work. You were amazing out there. It’s well deserved.” He released her then, and she reluctantly stepped back, instantly missing the contact.
“Thanks,” she offered, forcing a calm she didn’t feel.
“Hey, good work out there.” A familiar voice shattered her warm fuzzies like a five-gallon bucket of ice water.
“Thanks, Cassie. You too.” Harper flickered her gaze to where Cassie waited, her expression expectant as she focused on Sterling then back to Harper.
Harper bit her tongue to keep from saying something she’d regret. After taking a deep breath, she forced a smile. “Let me introduce you to Laken and Sterling.”
Harper’s shoulders were rigid with tension as Cassie gushed an enthusiastic greeting to Laken and then to Sterling. Cassie’s gaze assessed him quickly, and Harper hoped Sterling hadn’t missed the predatory glint in her expression.
“So, you’re friends of Harper?” she asked in a friendly manner, as if she and Harper were close friends.
Harper barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
Or gag.
Maybe both.
“Yeah.” Laken’s expression flickered between Cassie and Harper, as if piecing together the real story. “We’re actually just heading out. It was great to meet you.” Laken gave her nurse-smile, the one that Harper had started to recognize she used when she was being kind and clinical all at once.
Harper’s gaze flickered to Sterling. He was watching her, amusement clear in his eyes as he dared to glance at Cassie then back to Harper, raising a brow in question.
Harper felt a hint of pity for Cassie, since it was clear everyone had seen through her pretense, but it faded quickly when she offered to show Sterling around for the party later.
“Surely you don’t want to leave just yet?”
“Actually, I’m leaving now, and Sterling here is taking Harper home. It really was nice to meet you. I’m sure we’ll see you later.” Laken shook Cassie’s hand and walked away.
“Yeah, see ya.” Sterling gave a curt nod to Cassie and followed his sister.
Cassie turned to Harper. “You sure are surrounded by some eye candy, aren’t you?”
Harper bit back a groan. One of the eye candies she was referring to was her brother.
Ew.
“I gotta go catch up.” Harper pointed behind her. “But good job and congrats on a great run.” She backed up, gave a quick wave, then turned and jogged toward the trailer.
As she approached, she saw Laken give her a teasing grin. “Friend of yours?”
“Not really. More like one of those irritating horseflies that bites you in the ass when you’re not looking,” Harper answered with a little too much honesty.
“I actually do need to head back.” Laken tucked her hands in her jean pockets.
“And I really don’t want to go yet, because I’ll be stuck at the ranch, and it’s more fun to irritate you than her.” Sterling ruffled his sister’s hair.
“Joy.” Harper gave a wry grin. “How can I refuse when you put it that way?”
“Eh, you didn’t want to anyway.” Sterling gave her a devastatingly seductive grin.
Her eyes widened, and she glanced away, cursing the way her body enthusiastically responded to his expression.
“Okay, and yeah...I’m going now.” Laken gave an awkward wave and turned on her heel, leaving.
“Way to make that totally inappropriate.” Harper rolled her eyes, pretending she didn’t have her own inappropriate response.
“You love it.” Sterling hitched a shoulder, drawing her attention to the rounded and sculpted form.
“Eyes up here.” He wagged his eyebrows. “This is what girls feel like when guys study their rack.” He shook his head. “Show some respect, Harper.”
Harper’s eyes widened in shock then narrowed in anger. But she couldn’t figure out a decent response.
Because well, he was right.
She was distracted by his body. In her defense, it was rather amazing. Heaven help her if he ever took his shirt off.
“Still no response? Wow. I don’t know how to take this,” he teased, arching a light brown eyebrow.
Harper twisted her lips then grinned. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and give Laken the keys in your pocket, and I’ll get Spartan loaded up?”
“Staring at my pockets, Harper?” Sterling goaded, implying so much more.
“Why? Is there something to see? I must have missed that.” She gave him the best setdown she could think of.
“Ouch.” Sterling grinned then walked toward Laken. “I’ll be right back.”
Harper smiled to herself as she untied Spartan. She led him around. He stepped into the trailer and heaved a sigh, his body relaxing. “You did well today, handsome. I’m proud of you.”
Harper left the trailer and closed the gate, making sure it was secure before double-checking the dirt around it for anything that might have fallen.
“Laken’s all set, and I can see that Spartan is too. What else do we need to do?” Sterling asked, the afternoon sun illuminating the golden hue of his skin.
“Well, I need to go and check out at the registration table. You can come if you want, but I won’t be very long.”
Sterling nodded. “I’ll walk with you. It’s good for me.”
“You’re not limping as much. Does that mean it doesn’t hurt, or is that your medication?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, studying his expression before he answered.
“Both, but the medication keeps the pain at bay. It’s just easier to think, to be normal when I don’t have that hazy edge of pain always around my head, you know?” Sterling met her gaze, his expression tight.
“Yeah. I do.” More than you know, Harper added mentally as they passed the arena and headed toward the registration table.
She waved hello to the senior gentleman at the table. After giving her name, she was congratulated again and handed the packet that would include her winnings.
“Thank you,” Harper replied again as she and Sterling headed out into the parking lot.
“The day is still kinda young. What do you want to do?” Sterling asked.
Harper bit her lip. “Not ready to go home yet?” she asked, testing the waters.
Sterling shook his head. “Not yet. But we do have a horse in the back that might be less patient than us.”
Harper met his gaze with a warm one. “Aw, look who’s thinking of others....” she singsonged. “Spartan does need to get home, but I”—Harper glanced away, taking the risk but not brave enough to actually make eye contact—“but I don’t have anything else planned today.”
“Good,” Sterling answered before she’d even finished.
Harper’s gaze flickered to him then back to the pasture as they approached her pickup. “What did you have in mind?”
His grin widened, his gray eyes dancing with something she couldn’t quite name.
“You’ll see.”
“But what if I want to know now?” Harper challenged, regarding him as she unlocked the pickup.
“Then you’ll be disappointed. Sometimes it’s more fun to be surprised. And Harper, you need a few surprises in your life. The good ones. So, you game?” he asked as he held the passenger door half open, waiting for her answer.
Harper took a deep breath. It was odd, but she was slightly worried.
Giving someone else control, even over something small, was a big step.
Could she do that?
She met his expectant gaze. “Okay.”
Sterling’s answering smile filled her with all the warmth from earlier, and she relaxed into her answer.
Maybe it would be all right to give control to someone.
Every once in a while.
If it was the right person.
If.
And deep in her heart, she knew that she could trust Sterling.
Which in turn made her terrified.
Because when you trust someone, that means they can hurt you far worse than everyone else.