Page 13 of Stick Around,
I snorted. “He has no interest in Maple, so it’s doubtful. We haven’t gotten them DNA tested because what would be the point?”
“That’s some serious tea. There should be a Maury Show for barnyard friends.” Her reaction made something warm unfurl in my chest.
We pulled into Dr. Mercer’s clinic, and I parked. “This won’t take long. I’m picking up some medicine for my horse.”
Quinn trailed behind me into the waiting room, which was busier than I’d expected for a weekday morning. As I approached the desk, Quinn made a beeline for a boy sitting alone in the corner, clutching a dog toy and crying softly.
She must have asked him if he was okay because he said, “My dad wouldn’t let me go in with them. My dog is sick.”
She sat down next to the boy. “What’s their name?”
“Sadie,” the boy stammered, taking the tissue Quinn had produced from her purse.
Quinn leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to immediately capture the boy’s attention. “You want to know a secret? I once entered a competition where grown adults ride stick horses, and I won.”
The boy sniffled, looking skeptical but intrigued. “Like... toy horses?”
“Exactly like toy horses.” Quinn nodded enthusiastically. “I had to gallop around while jumping over little fences. I almost fell three times and accidentally whacked a judge with my stick horse’s head at one point.”
A small smile tugged at the boy’s lips. “Did you get in trouble?”
“Worse! He gave me extra points for enthusiasm, and now I’m at a real ranch learning about actual horses who are probably laughing at me behind my back.” She stood and demonstrated her hobby horse technique right there in the waiting room, prancing in place and making a ridiculous whinnying sound.
The boy was fully grinning now, his worries forgotten. I smiled too, watching how effortlessly she’d transformed a tearful child into a giggling one.
It was like a pressure somewhere inside me let go that I hadn’t been paying attention to. It threw me, and I turned away, suddenly uncomfortable with how intently I was watching her, and focused on waiting for the receptionist to grab Ranger’s medicine instead.
After paying for the meds, I pocketed my receipt and gestured toward the door. “All done here.”
Quinn gave the boy a final high-five before following me out of the clinic. “His dog sounded like she had a UTI. Poor kid was terrified she wasn’t coming back.”
“And your solution was to tell him about stick horses?”
“Distraction is the quickest way to regulate emotions.” She shrugged, sliding back into the passenger seat. “Plus, my hobby horse humiliation is clearly good for something.”
As I drove toward our next stop, I tried to ignore how her presence had somehow made a routine errand feel... different. “You’re good with kids.”
“I would hope so since I’m a teacher.” She glanced out the window at the passing storefronts. “This is a cute little area. It’s the perfect distance from the beach and isn’t touristy at all.”
“Just the way I like it.” I pulled into the supply store’s parking lot. “We offer a trail ride to the beach if that’s something you’re interested in.”
Quinn’s face lit up. “Do you think a week is enough time to learn to ride a horse well enough to do it?”
“That’s really up to you and how comfortable you feel. You’ll be sore after your first few rides, but possibly by the end of the week you could ride there and, depending on how you feel, get a car ride back.” I didn’t want to overpromise when I hadn’t even gotten her on a horse yet.
She followed me into the store, which was a combination of farm supplies, tools, animal feed, and clothing. It wasn’t my preferred place to buy boots and riding gear, but the price was right for what Quinn needed.
Her eyes widened at the rows of boots lining the wall, the scent of leather and hay mixed with the faint strains of country music playing over the speakers.
“There are so many choices! How do I—” She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze fixed on the display at the end.
She headed straight for what had to be the most ridiculous pair of boots I’d ever seen: turquoise leather with pink embroidered flowers, silver accents, and a rhinestone trim.
“These are amazing.” She lifted one reverently, turning it to catch the light. “It’s like Lisa Frank and Dolly Parton had a boot baby.”
I folded my arms. “Those aren’t ranch boots. Those are... statement pieces you’d wear to a Taylor Swift concert.”
“Yeah, and the statement is look at my awesome boots.” She sat down on a nearby bench and kicked off her tennis shoe, tugging the gaudy monstrosity onto her foot.