Page 83 of The Lilac River

"Brad always was a prick," Wilder muttered. We’d both known him too long to pretend otherwise.

"What are you doing back here, anyway?"

"My horse lost a shoe. Came back to switch rides. Thought I’d steal some coffee and make sure you were okay." He lifted his mug like he was making a toast.

I lifted mine, too, chinking it against my brother’s, grateful for him. "Much appreciated."

Out the window, one of our mares, Songbird, flicked her tails lazily under the oppressive sky. Even she looked bored with the weather.

"When’s the stud arriving for her?" I asked.

"Gunner’s handling it. Found a champion barrel racer he’s hyped about." Wilder grinned. "You know bloodlines are his love language." And he wasn't wrong. The man could wax poetic about a stallion's pedigree longer than most people could stay awake.

I snorted. "Bertie seems interested too. Found her studying horse breeding yesterday. Blew off playing Roblox with you, didn’t she?"

"Yeah. Broke my heart." He clutched at his chest dramatically, but there was warmth beneath the joke. He loved that kid.

He pushed off the desk. "Better get back to it. The guys need help with fencing. You coming?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but then I heard it. The low rumble of a school bus pulling up.

Fuck.

Wilder’s grin stretched even wider. "Sounds like our little munchkin’s here."

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "Shane’s handling the tour."

"You’re not going over there? Introduce yourself to the pretty teacher?" he teased. He was a damn asshole.

"Fuck off, Wilder."

He was still laughing when he sauntered toward the door. "Just saying, Nash. Life’s a rodeo. You get thrown, you get stomped, but you can still get back in the saddle."

"Go to work before I fire your sorry ass," I barked.

"You can’t. Equal shareholder of nothing, remember?" He winked. "Later, big brother."

When he disappeared, leaving the door wide open, I turned back to the computer. Tried to focus. But it was useless.

I couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t stop glancing toward the window, even though you couldn’t see the lavender farm from here. I was like a damn teenager hoping to catch a glimpse of a girl.

Pathetic.

"Fuck it," I muttered, shoving my chair back.

Five minutes later, I was wandering into the little store at the lavender farm, forcing my hands into my pockets to keep from fidgeting. The air inside was cool and filled with the scentof dried herbs, soap, and sun-warmed wood. It smelled like summer in a jar.

Felicia was behind the counter, arranging a display of soaps.

"Hey, sweetheart," she said, her smile warm and welcoming.

"Hey, Felicia. How’s it going?"

"I see Bertie’s fighting fit again," she said, glancing toward the window.

I moved to look out too. Shane was standing in front of a gaggle of kids, animatedly talking about lavender. Most of the kids were listening, except for two girls whispering together. Lily crouched down, speaking to them gently. One girl moved to the front, next to Bertie.

Bertie crossed her arms and scooted a step away, her posture pure sass.