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“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ray snapped. “Sarah had nothing to do with any of this. Or her children either.”

“Okay. Okay. Easy. I don’t want to fight.”

Ray reached out and touched Cooper’s shoulder. “Eight years ago, if I could have gotten my hands on Evan, I might have killed him for what he did to me. But all that’s behind me now. It’s done. What I learned inside, more than anything, is what anger can do to you, to your soul. Anger is a hunger that’s never satisfied. So, it eats you from the inside out. So, no, I’m not looking for revenge anymore. I’m looking for peace now. That’s all.”

Cooper didn’t understand his father. His refusal to tell him the whole truth about what he knew. But he said, “Okay. But you’re staying here. With me. Nobody’s a burden. You understand? So, no argument. Clear?”

Ray set his jaw. “We’ll see.”

*

Cooper spent most of the next day working with the new horses, then supervising Ryan as he introduced Kholá to a bit of his weight—on and off the saddle she was finally getting used to. Cooper was grateful that the horses they’d brought to the ranch weren’t too traumatized to learn quickly. They all seemed to accept human contact and were, for the most part, interested in what he had to teach them.

Kholá, in particular, was a quick study, and Cooper had to admire the bond she’d formed with Ryan. Getting her to take a bit took a few tries, but Ryan instinctively laid off the reins while handling her in the ring. They were just there for her to get used to them, nothing more. Same with the feel of Ryan’s weight on her back after showing her for days that she had nothing to fear of his touch by using a long-handled crop to stroke her back gently.

All in all, Shay’s son had made amazing progress with his filly, and it wouldn’t be long before she could be ridden.

Later that night, after eating the dinner his father had surprised him with, he’d stepped outside for some air. Late September in Montana always held the threat of early snow, but tonight was almost balmy, still holding onto the last breath of the summer. The moon was a mere sliver in the pitchy night sky, leaving a wash of stars scattered across the sky like pin pricks of light.

The air was crisp and sweet. It held the fragrance of horses, the mountains, and the long grasses that grew everywhere. He reached out to stroke Kholá’s nose as she wandered over to the rail to visit him.

That kiss with Shay was still on his mind. They hadn’t spoken about it yet. Maybe they never would. Maybe her curiosity was satisfied and that was the end of it. But his wasn’t. His was only piqued. He wasn’t mistaken that she’d kissed him back. That she’d responded in kind. What he couldn’t decide was how to proceed with her. She was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. Maybe he never would. Maybe this whole idea of coming home to Marietta had been a mistake. Maybe Thomas Wolfe was right. Maybe you can never go home again.

“Deep thoughts?” came a voice from behind him, surprising him. He turned to find Shay walking toward the corral. She had a fleecy Pendleton throw wrapped around her shoulders.

His heartbeat picked up at the sight of her, with the starlight skimming over the curve of her cheek. “No. Probably pretty shallow, if I’m honest. What are you doing out here? It’s late.”

“I was just sitting over there, watching the stars. You didn’t see me.”

He looked up, scanning the night sky. “Pretty night.”

“Mmm.” She joined him at the fence. They didn’t talk for a long minute, both lost in their own thoughts. Then they both spoke at once.

“I was—”

“Did you—” he said, stumbling over how to begin. They both smiled.

“God, we’re awkward,” she told him.

“That’s . . . accurate.”

“It’s because of that kiss. Up on the mountain.”

He nodded. “Yeah. About that. I don’t want you to think—”

“I don’t,” she said. “Actually, I’m not sure what to think.” She reached for Kholá and scratched her under her chin. “I . . . liked it. I know I said it was just—”

“You don’t need to explain.”

“No, here’s the thing.” She turned to him then, her hand close to his on the rail. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since then. I—”

He pulled her to him then, covered her mouth with his, putting an end to all of that. She melted into his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, letting the blanket puddle to the ground. He couldn’t get close enough to her. Couldn’t kiss her deep enough. She tasted sweet—of mint and the cool night air. With his fingers against her scalp, he pulled her closer still, the fragrance of soap and fresh peaches intoxicating him. As she shifted her mouth against his with a hungry sound, the space between them ignited like a lit match. With her soft breasts pressed against his chest, he imagined that she could feel every part of him, too. All the parts that wanted her, needed her, longed for her.

But he knew where this was headed as he lost himself in that kiss. He forced himself to cool it down by pulling back. Both of them, breathing hard, found it impossible to separate then and just stood for a long, long minute gathering themselves, foreheads touching.

Shay swallowed hard. “Wow,” she breathed finally. “That was—”

“Something.”