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He lifted his dark brows. “That makes two of us.”

She was suddenly sober. “I didn’t intend to argue with you. The last thing I wanted to do was fight about Gypsy Wind.”

“I know.”

A sad smile curved her lips as they walked through the door together. “It seems that every time we’re together, we end up arguing.”

They stepped into the kitchen. “It hasn’t always been that way,” he reminded her.

She shook her blond hair. It was loose and brushed against her shoulders. “You’re wrong . . . even in the beginning we had fights.”

“Disagreements,” he insisted.

“Okay, disagreements,” she responded. Without asking his preference, she set a cup of black coffee on the table and poured one for herself. “Anyway, the point is, I made a vow to myself on the plane back from Denver.”

“Sounds serious.”

“It was. I told myself that I was going to get over you.”

He sat back in the chair, straddling the cane backing before taking a sip of the coffee. “Well . . . did you?”

She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat and shook her head. How could he sit there so calmly when she felt as if her insides were being shredded? “Not yet.”

“But you intend to?”

“I thought I did . . . right now, I honestly don’t know.” She stared into the dark coffee in her cup as if she were searching for just the right words to make him understand her feelings. She lifted her eyes to meet his. “But I think it would make things simpler if you and I remained business partners—nothing more.”

Brig frowned. “And you’re sure that’s what you want?”

“I’m not sure of anything right now,” she admitted with a sigh.

“Except for Gypsy Wind.”

Becca’s somber expression lightened. “Have you seen her?”

“When I first got here.”

“What do you think?” Becca’s breath caught in her throat. How long had she waited for Brig to see the horse?

“She’s a beautiful filly,” he replied, keeping his tone noncommittal. Looks were one thing; racing temperament and speed were entirely different matters.

“Where did you see her?”

“In Sentimental Lady’s paddock.”

“This afternoon?” Rebecca seemed surprised. Brig nodded. “I didn’t know she was going to be let out,” she thought aloud. “Ian didn’t mention it to me . . .”

“Where is O’Riley? I thought he was with you.”

“I dropped him off at his place—he lives a couple of miles down the road.” She answered him correctly, but her mind was back on Gypsy Wind. “Did you talk to Dean?”

“That’s how I knew you were with O’Riley.”

“So Dean was with Gypsy Wind?”

“He took her inside and had . . . Garth, is that his name?” Becca nodded. “Garth took care of her. I double-checked her a few minutes ago. She looks fine.”

“Garth is good with the horses,” Becca said, still lost in thought. What was Dean thinking, leaving the Gypsy outside in the windstorm? It was difficult to understand Dean at times.