Jake’s POV
The mare stands patient while I demonstrate how to check her hooves. Morning light slants through the barn door, catching dust motes that drift between us like tiny ghosts.
"You want to run your hand down the leg first." I show Paige the motion. "Let her know what's coming. Then lift gently. Support the weight."
Paige nods, absorbing every word like she's studying for an exam she actually wants to pass. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a practical ponytail, and there's genuine curiosity in her eyes.
"Like this?" She mimics the motion on the mare's other leg.
"Exactly." I nod, surprised by how quickly she's learning. "Good instincts."
Violet stands three feet back, arms crossed, radiating disdain with the precision of someone who's practiced the pose in mirrors.
"This is disgusting." She wrinkles her nose at the hay dust. "Why would anyone voluntarily touch horse feet?"
I don't answer. My mind keeps drifting to places it shouldn't—to Adison somewhere in the house, to the conversation we still haven't had.
I thought giving her space meant giving her freedom. That's what I told myself during all those silent days. She asked me to leave. She needed room to breathe, to grieve, to figure out what she wanted without me complicating everything.
Instead, I abandoned her during the worst period of her life.
Her father was dying. Then dead. And I was here, a thousand miles away, convincing myself that distance was what she needed when really I was just too scared to fight for us.
Now she's here. Sleeping down the hall. And I feel like a clueless teenager who doesn't know how to talk to a girl he likes.
"Will Adison be helping around the ranch?"
Violet's voice cuts through my thoughts. I look up to find her watching me with those sharp eyes that miss nothing.
"Adison has CEO responsibilities." I set down the mare's hoof and straighten. "She'll be working remotely."
"CEO." Violet rolls the word around like she's testing its weight. "Must be nice, having an excuse to avoid actual work."
I don't take the bait. Just move to the next horse, hoping she'll get bored and wander off.
No such luck.
"What exactly is your relationship with her?" Violet follows me, heels clicking against the barn floor. "You two seemed very cozy on the porch yesterday."
Paige's head snaps up. "Violet, that's rude."
"I'm asking a simple question." Violet's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "It's called making conversation."
I keep my voice steady. Neutral. "Richard Ward was my childhood best friend. Adison is his daughter. I've known her since she was born."
The answer is safe. True enough to satisfy curiosity without revealing anything that matters.
Violet's eyes gleam with something I recognize too well. Calculation. Opportunity.
"So you're available." She steps closer, and the shift in her posture is unmistakable. "That's interesting."
"Violet." Paige's warning comes out sharp. "Stop."
"What?" Violet tosses her dark hair over one shoulder, the gesture practiced and deliberate. "I'm just being honest. He's a hot cowboy. Like, ridiculously attractive. I've been with older men before, you know. Just none quite this..." She lets her gaze travel over me slowly. "Appealing."
My jaw tightens. The flattery lands like something unpleasant tracked in on boots.
"I'm not interested in children." The words come out cold. Final.
Violet's expression flickers—wounded pride bleeding through the confident mask.
"I'm not a child." Her voice hardens. "I'm nineteen. Plenty old enough to make my own decisions about who I spend time with."
"You're a guest on this ranch." I hold her gaze without flinching. "That's all you'll ever be."
The standoff stretches. Violet's cheeks flush with anger or embarrassment—probably both.
Then Tommy's voice echoes from the barn entrance.
"Boss!" He jogs toward us, tablet in hand. "Got the supply list ready. Figured I'd take the truck into town before noon."
Relief floods through me. I've never been so grateful for an interruption.
"Perfect timing." I gesture toward the girls. "Take them with you. Show them around. Let them see the town."
Tommy's eyebrows rise slightly, but he's smart enough not to question. "Sure thing. Ladies, you ready for the grand tour?"
Violet pouts, her flirtation thwarted. But Paige's face brightens immediately, something warm crossing her features as she looks at Tommy.
"That sounds wonderful." Her smile is genuine. "I'd love to see more of the area."
Tommy grins back, and something passes between them that I file away for later. Chemistry. The kind you can't manufacture.
"Great." I'm already moving toward the barn door. "I'll check on things at the house."
I leave before Violet can regroup. The morning sun hits my face as I cross the yard, and I take a breath that doesn't quite steady me.
Adison's voice reaches me before I see her.
It drifts through the kitchen window, and I slow my steps without meaning to. Video call, probably. Work stuff.
Except the words don't sound like work.
"Your athletic background is impressive." Her tone carries warmth I haven't heard directed at me in weeks. "Martial arts, the physical training—you could have gone professional."
A man's voice responds. Zachary. The assistant who calls with too much concern in his voice.
"The commitment was there, but the long-term prospects weren't promising." His answer is measured. Humble in a way that sounds rehearsed. "Professional athletics has serious health risks. Brain injuries. Joint damage. I wanted a career with longevity."
"That's smart." Adison's approval flows through the window like something designed to cut. "Most people don't think that far ahead at your age. They chase glory without considering consequences."
My jaw tightens until my teeth ache.
This isn't a work call. This is her building something with a man who isn't me. Praising qualities. Showing interest. Creating intimacy one compliment at a time.
I stride through the back door without announcing myself.
The kitchen opens around me—Adison at the table, laptop open, Zachary's face filling the screen. She's wearing one of my old flannel shirts over her clothes, and that detail hits harder than it should.
I cross directly behind her, moving between Adison and the window like she's not there. Like Zachary's face on that screen means nothing worth acknowledging.
"Well." Zachary's voice turns dry. Amused in a way I want to punch through the screen. "A storm cloud just appeared in the background."
Adison's spine goes rigid. Her fingers freeze over the keyboard.
"I have to go." The words come out rushed. "We'll continue this later."
She ends the call before Zachary can respond.
The laptop screen goes dark. Silence fills the kitchen like something with weight.
I don't turn around. Don't trust myself to look at her yet.
But I feel her eyes on my back. Feel the questions building in the space between us.