Page 43 of Meadowsweet and Marigold (EverAfter CozyXverse #1)
The compliment warmed her in a way that went beyond simple praise. To be recognized for qualities like intuition and partnership rather than just technical skill felt like validation of who she was as a person rather than what she could perform.
As the sun climbed higher and the morning grew warmer, they began the journey back toward the ranch, following a different route that would give Marigold new views of the property.
The trail led them through a small copse of trees and then along a ridge that overlooked the valley below, the ranch buildings visible in the distance like a postcard of rural perfection.
"Thank you for this," she said as they descended toward more familiar territory. "For sharing something so beautiful, for trusting me enough to bring me here."
"Thank you for being someone worth sharing it with," he replied, and the sincerity in his voice made her chest tight with emotion.
As they approached the outskirts of town, following a trail that would eventually connect to the main road near the center of Willowbend, they spotted a familiar figure set up with professional equipment near a particularly picturesque barn.
Cypress was clearly in the middle of a photo shoot, his camera focused on a young family posed against the weathered wood siding, the golden morning light creating exactly the kind of authentic rural scene his magazine assignment would require.
"Looks like Cypress is hard at work," Meadow observed, his tone carefully neutral as they drew closer to the scene.
Marigold watched the photographer direct his subjects with professional ease, adjusting positions and waiting for natural expressions, capturing the kind of candid moments that would tell the story of life in Willowbend.
The family—parents and two young children—seemed relaxed and genuinely happy, their laughter carrying across the distance as Cypress worked to preserve their joy.
"He's good at what he does," she said, meaning it without reservation. Whatever personal history lay between them, his talent was undeniable.
They were perhaps fifty yards away when Cypress looked up from his viewfinder, spotting them as they rode past on the nearby trail. His expression shifted from professional concentration to something more complex—recognition, amusement, and perhaps a hint of challenge.
"Didn't think you'd still be riding with someone else's reins," he called out, his voice carrying clearly across the space between them. The comment was delivered with the tone of friendly teasing, but there was something underneath it that made the words feel weighted with implication.
Meadow didn't respond, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly as he guided Storm past the photo shoot without acknowledgment. The silence felt pointed, deliberate, though Marigold couldn't understand why such an innocuous comment would warrant such a response.
"What did he mean by that?" she asked quietly once they were out of earshot, confused by the tension she'd felt radiating from Meadow at Cypress's words.
"Nothing important," Meadow replied, though the muscle jumping in his jaw suggested otherwise. "He likes to tease, that's all. Old habits from when we were kids."
But the explanation felt incomplete, and Marigold found herself studying Meadow's profile as they continued toward the ranch.
There had been something in Cypress's tone, some reference or shared understanding that she wasn't privy to.
The phrase about riding with someone else's reins felt loaded with meaning beyond the literal, though she couldn't decipher what that meaning might be.
"Are you sure?" she pressed gently. "It seemed like more than just teasing."
"I'm sure," Meadow said firmly, but the tension in his shoulders and the way he avoided her gaze suggested the topic was closed rather than resolved.
They completed the ride back to the ranch in relative quiet, the easy companionship of the morning shadowed by whatever undercurrent Cypress's comment had stirred up. Marigold found herself replaying the words, trying to understand what she'd missed, what context might explain Meadow's reaction.
As they reached the stables and began the process of cooling down and caring for their horses, she watched Meadow's movements, noting the slight stiffness that hadn't been there during their ride through the flower fields.
His jaw remained tight, his responses to her questions abbreviated though not unfriendly.
"The ride was perfect," she said as they finished brushing down the horses, hoping to recapture some of the lightness they'd shared among the wildflowers. "Even Storm's dramatic interruption couldn't ruin it."
That earned her a genuine smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. We'll have to explore more of the trails soon."
"I'd like that," she said, meaning it completely. Despite the strange ending, the morning had been everything she'd hoped for—adventure and beauty and the kind of easy connection she'd never experienced with anyone else.
As they walked back toward the house, Marigold found herself glancing at Meadow's profile, wondering what thoughts were occupying his mind with such obvious intensity.
The morning had shown her new depths to their connection, possibilities for the kind of relationship she'd never dared to imagine.
But Cypress's casual comment had introduced an element of uncertainty that she didn't know how to address.
Whatever history existed between the two men, whatever meaning lay behind words about reins and riding, it was clearly more complex than simple childhood teasing.
And until she understood what that complexity entailed, she suspected it would continue to create tension in spaces that had felt beautifully uncomplicated just hours before.
The morning sun climbed higher as they reached the house, promising a warm day ahead.
But despite the perfect weather and the memory of laughter among wildflowers, Marigold couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted—that Cypress's presence in Willowbend was going to complicate things in ways none of them had anticipated.