how impersonal city life can be, how disconnected. I miss knowing my neighbors and the sense of camaraderie.” He slid his arm down her body, rubbing against her lower back. The small gesture heated her blood. “I don’t think I’d want to have kids in that kind of environment. I’d want to raise my kids similar to how I was raised, in a quiet town, where everyone looks out for each other.”
He smiled as he ushered her into the barn, his quick comment offering her a glimpse of all she’d ever wanted. A husband. A family. He’d been doing that more often lately, tossing off those easy comments as if they meant nothing, which she hoped wasn’t true.
“Here it is,” he declared, throwing his hand out, gesturing to the entire structure.
Kate scanned around, first with trepidation then with interest. There certainly wasn’t anything like this in her version of Texas. The odor hit her first, the sweet scent of hay and animal. She’d always imagined that barns stank, like cow manure and decaying grass. But this barn didn’t smell bad. In fact, she liked it. It seemed homey, welcoming in a way the city never did.
“So what do you think?” Daniel held her tightly. He stilled, waiting for her response.
“It’s beautiful.” Kate looked back at him.
He puffed his chest out a little with pride. He really did love this place. Even after years of living in the big city. Years away from the hay and manure, he still felt the same. And he wanted her to see it the same way.
“I’m glad you like it.” His pride was almost palpable.
It was clear that Daniel had great affection for this place. But just because he cared for something didn’t mean it was the right thing for him. She knew that all too well.
He held her close, ushering her through the barn. He meticulously walked down the line, introducing her to each horse in its stall, explaining how the horse had come to the ranch. Each one was different, from their coloring and spots to their personality. Kate understood how people fell in love with these great beasts. Some were so sweet, so caring in a way people hardly ever were, it was impossible not to be entranced.
“And this one is Tulip. She’s mine.” He rubbed the mare’s white nose. She neighed beneath his touch. He brushed his hand down her downy cheek and through her soft silver mane. The horse nuzzled deeper into his touch.
Kate extended her hand to pet the horse’s nose, “You have your own horse?”
He nodded. “Of course. Every good cowpoke needs to learn how to ride.” He pulled a sugar cube from his pocket, feeding it to the horse that grumbled in satisfaction. “My dad taught me how to ride when I was five.”
She could almost imagine it. A young Daniel up on his horse, his eyes full of life. His little hands clenching the reins, his feet tucked into the white mare’s sides. His father holding him up, keeping him safe. It was a sweet image, filled with happiness and family. The kind she’d always wanted. The kind she hoped to make herself someday.
“This ranch is a part of my blood. Just like it was a part of my father’s and his father’s before him. I’d do anything to protect this place.”
Kate tightened her grip on the stall door, fighting for breath. She couldn’t lose another man to this ranch. She couldn’t lose Daniel. Grant had been bad enough. She’d never thought she’d survive that. But without Daniel, she wasn’t sure how she could carry on for another day. He’d become so much a part of her, the glue holding her together. If he vanished, she feared she’d never be able to paste herself back together again.
“You really love this place, don’t you?” It was obvious in the way he spoke about the place, the way he mentioned the horses and the fields, how he wanted to show her everything. But she had to hear him say it. Even though the thought made her stomach lurch and sweat bead across the back of her neck.
“Yes, of course. It’s my home.”
Her