Page 39

“Maya, why are you here?”

She’s so wrapped up in her dance that she doesn’t even notice me until I say her name. She spins on her heel, turning toward me, a guilty expression on her face.

It’s early, hours before the studio is supposed to open, but Beau finally decided he couldn’t call out of work another day—after the two we spent in bed; he told his family he was feeling under the weather, when I can say with full authority that he was performing at his peak—and I was lonely in the house that now feels too quiet.

I don’t know how I lived there for months by myself.

Beau’s presence is so big, so all-encompassing, that when he’s gone, everything seems lifeless.

So I thought I’d come to the studio and get some work done. My first recital as a dance teacher is in six weeks, which means I’ll basically be living at the studio until then. What I didn’t expect was to find Maya putting her spare key to good use.

“I like coming in this early. It’s quiet,” she says, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths.

My brows lift. “Are you often here this early?”

She looks even more contrite, avoiding my eyes.

“Maya,” I sigh, and lean against the barre. “You’re always the last one to leave at night. Are you telling me you’re dancing for over twelve hours every day?”

“I have to!” she protests, hands finding her hips. “Mom won’t let me homeschool, so summer is the only time I actually have to dance like I should.”

I know where she’s coming from. I’ve been there, so maybe that’s why I feel so strongly about this.

“Maya, you have to have other things outside of dance.”

“I went to that party,” she says, sounding slightly defensive.

“I’m glad,” I say, and I am.

She must be able to tell I’m sincere, because she looks up at me through her lashes. She looks so young like this, in tights that she wears over her leotard, her hair pulled back in a somewhat lopsided bun, her cheeks flushed from exertion.

“But I need more from you.”

It’s the only way I can think to get through to her—using her desire to please me. It’s the same reason I listened to Tonya when I was her age. One day she will realize this was really for her, but right now she’s too laser-focused on dance to see that there’s more to this world outside of it.

Her eyes narrow with skepticism. “What do you need from me?”

“I need you to love something besides just dance.”

Now she rolls her eyes, something that makes her look so painfully like a teenager that I have to roll my lips together to hold back my smile. “I don’t understand why this is such a big deal.”

I shrug. “No, you wouldn’t.”

She stares at me for a long moment, expression unsure. “Can I keep dancing, or are you going to make me go home?”

I shake my head, pushing up off the barre.

My back is sore from my growing stomach and my feet have begun to swell from the summer heat.

There’s nothing I’d love more than to sit at my desk for the next few hours, sorting through all the paperwork I’ve been neglecting and planning out choreography in my head, but there’s something more important I need to do right now.

“Come on,” I say, and motion toward the door.

Maya moves into action, heading for her pile of belongings on the floor in the corner. “Are you taking me home?”

“No,” I answer. “Put some pants on before we leave.”

“Where are we going?”

I turn and look back at her. She’s on the floor, unwrapping the ribbons tied around her ankles, her hair beginning to fall out of her bun and into her face. “Lucky Stars.”

Dust kicks up beneath the truck tires as I turn down the familiar road to Lucky Stars Ranch.

It’s been so long since I’ve been anywhere but the big house, but it doesn’t make it feel any less like returning home after a long stint away.

Lucky Stars was the first place I fell in love with that wasn’t the studio, and I’m hoping it has the same effect on Maya.

“Why are we going here?” she asks, her arms crossed over her chest, her voice carrying a hint of a pout.

Despite it, her gaze is fixed out the windshield, taking in the beauty that is the ranch.

No amount of teenage angst has ever been able to stand up against Lucky Stars.

Even when Cooper was in high school and itching to leave Larkspur, the ranch was always his north star, guiding him right back here.

“You need something other than dance.”

Beside me, she rolls her eyes again. “So you’ve said.”

My mouth twitches as I fight to hold back a smile. No amount of sassiness is going to deter me. “And this is how we fix that.”

“What am I going to do, shovel horseshit?”

I level a flat glare at her, and she looks away, embarrassed, cheeks glowing a pretty shade of pink.

“Sorry,” she mutters.

“You’re not going to shovel horseshit,” I say, and her mouth curves into the barest hint of a smile. “You’re going to ride.”

Her eyes blow wide. “A horse?”

“No, a unicorn.” We pass over a bump in the road that I can feel in my stomach. Something I’ve noticed about being pregnant is that I am so much more aware of my abdomen, of every movement and jolt. It’s not bad, just different.

“I’ve never ridden a horse,” Maya says.

It’s practically unheard of for someone who grew up in Montana, but I was the same way. When a person’s life is devoted to one thing, it doesn’t leave room for much of anything else.

“Luckily, I know the best teacher.”

Technically, Beau is a horse trainer, but he taught me to ride.

And he taught me to love it. The first day he brought me to the ranch, he took me into the stables and introduced me to the horse I’d later come to think of as my own.

Her name is Sienna, and Beau picked her for me because she was calm, which eased my jitters, and nearing the end of her working years, so she wasn’t getting as much attention or exercise as she was used to.

That first day, I was too nervous to even go near her.

Beau placed his hands on my hips and eased me forward until I finally put my hand through the rails of the stall.

I barely contained a squeal when her muzzle tickled my palm.

My heart raced in my chest, a fact I tried desperately to hide from Beau, something I was sure he’d see as weakness.

Because how was it that I could perform fouettés without a second thought, but I was shaking like a leaf in the presence of a horse ?

But he didn’t. He was steady, unmoving, his breath warm on my neck as he inched us forward, his strong body bracing mine.

It was the first time I’d ever relied on someone other than one of my dance teachers to hold me steady, to keep me safe, to push me past my limits.

It was the first time outside of dance that I’d ever felt that strange mixture of terror and exhilaration, and I immediately wanted more of it.

And now I hope Maya can find it too.

I pull the truck to a stop in front of the stables, the noise drawing Beau’s attention from where he is in the circular pen, his eyes finding mine through the windshield.

Even from here, I can see the smile light up his face, brighter than the summer sunshine, and it makes my heart triple its speed in my chest.

As we climb out of the tuck, he hops over the rails, landing in the grass with a puff of dirt beneath his boots.

He looks good like this. I can’t believe I forgot what it’s like to see him in his element.

He usually cleans up a bit before heading home, washing the dust from his hands and face, and on especially hot days, sticking his head under the sink to cool the sweat that’s been gathering beneath his hat.

But right now, he’s rugged and sun worn, and it does funny things to my insides.

“Hey, Maya,” he says, flashing her a smile before his eyes light back on me. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He leans in, planting a kiss close enough to my ear that I shiver despite the June heat. From his smirk, I know he clocked it.

It’s not until he lifts his brows that I remember he asked a question, and my face flames. I press my hand to Maya’s back, pulling her from where she’s standing slightly behind me until she’s next to me.

“I want you to teach Maya to ride.”

Beau doesn’t miss a beat. He doesn’t let Maya know it’s not really his job, that he’s doing something special for her. “Absolutely,” he says, meeting her eyes. “Everyone should learn to ride in their lifetime.” A grin crests his lips. “And I know just the horse.”

Of course he does. It’s a gift he has, pairing horses with people. It’s probably because he’s spent so much time with them, training them for life on the ranch, but I also think it’s something he was born with, something intrinsic. His ability to find someone’s soul match in a horse.

We follow him into the stable. Maya, who is normally chatty, keeps quiet, her gaze darting around the stalls, some of which are empty, some full.

Beau stops in front of a stall. The nameplate beside it says Freckles.

The horse inside is beautiful, its signature spotted Appaloosa coat a stunning deep chocolate and white.

“This is Freckles,” Beau says, leaning on the stall door, hand reaching inside to pet her between the eyes. His hands look massive against her muzzle.

“Mmm,” Maya says beside me, eyes wide as she takes in the large creature before her.

Beau smiles at her over his shoulder. “Come here.”

“I’m good here,” she says.

I have to suppress the laugh that bubbles in my chest.

Beau raises an eyebrow. “You’re not scared, are you?”

Surprise echoes through me, because it’s unlike Beau to push in this way.

Despite being a horse trainer, he has given lessons to many people over the years, and when faced with a nervous rider, he handles them much like he did with me, although in a less intimate fashion.

He’s soft-spoken and reassuring, and he makes them feel like there’s nothing to be scared of.

But for some reason, he’s taking a different approach with Maya.

And to my shock, it works. Her shoulders stiffen, and I watch as resolve hardens her features. “No, I’m not scared of a horse.” It’s like when she’s learning something in class, challenging herself at something new.

Beau’s smile widens. “I didn’t think so. So come pet her. She doesn’t bite.” He waits for Maya to slowly move closer, her hand trembling slightly as she holds it out to the horse. “Usually.”

Maya rips her hand back, and Beau laughs, the sound warm and rough as it echoes through the barn. It sounds like sandpaper against wood and feels like a finger sliding down my spine.

“Just kidding,” he reassures her, bumping her shoulder with his own. “Here, hold your hand out flat and let her sniff it.” He demonstrates the movement for her, and Freckles huffs against his palm before moving to Maya’s. She’s standing stock-still, determination still in every line of her body.

Watching her, I finally see the differences between us, ones I missed for so long.

She may be heading down the same path I was, but she’s made of stronger stuff than I am.

She’s more stubborn, but in a way that will serve her well.

If she loses dance, I don’t think it will destroy her.

I don’t think she’s capable of being destroyed.

She’s someone who will always land on her feet.

But she still needs this, needs time away from the studio, away from dance. She needs to know what else is out there for her if she ever decides that that world is too small for her. And I don’t doubt it will be.

I leave the two of them alone, walking quietly through the stable in search of Sienna.

I’ve missed her in a way that I can’t even explain.

When we moved to Utah, I hadn’t realized how much I’d miss the long rides Beau and I went on through the ranch land.

We would sometimes do it when we managed to have a day off at the same time in Utah, but riding one of the horses at the ranch he was working on was never the same as riding Sienna.

I used to live for the short visits we’d make back home when we could finally be reunited.

I stop in front of her stall, my heart swelling at the sight of her.

She’s lying down, asleep, so I just stare at her.

She’s too old now to ride, but I hate all the time I’ve missed with her the past year when I was avoiding the ranch, avoiding the people and the memories and the crushing feeling of home that I feel every time my feet hit the soil.

I don’t know how long I stand there, admiring her, but eventually, Beau ends up at my side. I look up at him, admiring the way he looks right now, wishing I could drag him away to a secluded spot on the ranch and have my way with him.

“Where’s Maya?”

“Bathroom,” he says. “I think she and Freckles will be a good match. Freckles is a bit temperamental.”

My brows shoot up to my forehead. “You know she’s never been on a horse before, right? And you’re going to have her start on a temperamental one.”

He shrugs. “I guess I should say stubborn.”

“You didn’t give me a stubborn horse,” I say, motioning to Sienna.

He shakes his head, a piece of dark hair falling over his forehead.

He ditched the hat when we came inside, hanging it on a hook near the door.

His hair is a mess, but it only manages to endear him to me more.

“No, you didn’t need a challenge. You needed something to come easy to you for the first time in your life. ”

His words dig into my heart, poking at old wounds there.

“You didn’t need to work for affection,” he says.

“And Maya does?”

“No, but she needs a challenge or she will get bored and head right back to that studio to do something that does challenge her.”

Once again, I can’t help but marvel at his insight, at the way he can glean so much about someone so easily.

Guilt pricks at me, because I know that I had to have built my walls so strongly around myself for him to not have been able to breach them fully.

I hate myself a little for it. For not trusting pieces of myself to this man who has only ever proven how well he will love me.

“You’re good at this,” I tell him.

He turns so his body is facing me, a question in his eyes.

“Your job,” I clarify.

A laugh rumbles out of him. “Glad to hear it.”

“No,” I say, smiling despite myself. “I’m just happy that you found the thing you were made to do.”

His eyes search mine. “Do you think you found the thing you were made to do?”

When I first started teaching, I would have said no. I would have said I lost the thing I was made to do and this was the closest I could get to it. But now…

“Yeah,” I say, my voice soft. “I think so.”

He leans in, pressing a kiss to my temple, his hand landing on my hip and squeezing, sending ricochets of warmth all through my body. “I think so too.”