He pushed off the wall, grabbing a mounting block from beside him, and brought it over to Avery. He helped her step up onto it so she could reach Red’s back easier, then returned to his spot next to me, leaning back against the wall, like him helping her was second nature.

That did something to my insides and I hated it.

“We all have bad days sometimes,” Callan said, jumping right back into the conversation with ease. “I wasn’t at my best either, so I apologize for that as well.”

My fingers played with the hem of my flannel as I looked down at my shoes, not sure what to say to him.

“How’s your finger?”

I glanced at the bandage wrapped around the cut. “It’s healing quickly. Nothing more than a scrape, really.”

He dipped his chin. “Good. Do you have a day that works best for you to bring her back?”

My eyes jumped to his. “I can’t afford lessons.”

He shook his head, his brow furrowing slightly under the brim of his hat. “It’s on me.”

“I can’t not pay you for riding lessons, Callan.” There was no way I’d allow that.

His eyes moved back and forth between mine slowly like he was thinking of a way around this. “How about you bring pastries, and I consider that your payment.”

I let out a disbelieving scoff. “A seventy-dollar riding lesson is not equal to a three-dollar pastry.”

“Then bring some for the volunteers. They’d love it.” A lot of people in town volunteered for Bottom of the Buckle Horse Rescue. His parents had started it well before their children were born and kept it going all these years, saving countless horses' lives. If you lived in Bell Buckle, you knew about the rescue.

“And your family,” I decided.

He nodded once, turning his attention back on Avery. “And my family.”

“Mondays work best for me, but I can make other days work, too.” Bell Buckle Brews was closed on Mondays, so I typically used the day to catch up on chores or yard work, but all of that could be set aside to bring Avery out here for an hour or two.

“How about we play it by ear?”

“I’m sure Avery will take advantage of that. She’d be here every day if I let her.”

“All done!” Avery announced as she stepped down from the mounting block.

Callan pushed off the wall, closing the few steps to her and taking the brush from her. “Did you get all the dirt?”

She nodded, confidence shining in her response. “Every teeny tiny speck.”

He leaned close to Red’s face, wrapping an arm under his chin to scratch the opposite cheek. “That true, Red?” he asked in a whisper.

The horse pawed his foot in response.

“See? Even he knows it,” Avery declared.

Callan took a step back, nodding like he was contemplating if it was true. “Okay, I’ll take your guys' word for it. Do you want to help me put him out in the pasture?”

“Yes, please.”

Callan unhooked the cross ties and handed the lead rope to Avery. The two of them walked side by side down the aisle of the barn again, the horse’s hooves clomping on the matts as they headed outside and I followed behind.

Once we were at the gate to the pasture, Callan took the lead rope from Avery. “Sometimes they get a little excited about being out here, so I’ll take his halter off. Why don’t you stand by the fence right here?” He motioned to the spot.

Avery nodded and came to stand a few feet from Callan, her pink boots kicking up dust. She watched as Callan opened the gate to the pasture, then undid the knot on the rope halter. As soon as it was free, Red took off at a gallop into the field, making his presence known to all the other horses with a whinny. 

Callan latched the gate as Avery watched the horse join the others. 

“Thank you for letting me ride him, Mr. Bronson,” Avery said as she turned to Callan.

“Of course, Avery. And you can call me Callan, okay?”

“Okay,” she responded.

“What day do you want to come back?” I asked Avery, leaving it up to her.

Her jaw dropped as she gasped, like she couldn’t contain her excitement at the thought of coming back. “I get to ride again?”

I nodded.

She squealed and charged me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I stumbled back a step, a light laugh escaping me. “Tomorrow!” she shouted, her voice muffled against my lightweight flannel.

“We have to go to the cafe tomorrow, but how about the next day?” 

Avery looked up at me. “Yes!” She turned to Callan, her arms still wrapped around me. “Can we come the day after tomorrow?”

I knew that giving her the option would lead to this, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.

He smiled at her and it was like everything in the universe stopped and narrowed down on that look alone. “That sounds perfect to me.”

It sounded perfect to me, too.

6

Callan

Lennon sat in the wood chair beside me, his legs kicked out in front of him as he sipped his whiskey. I’d opted for a cold beer—perfect for this warm night. We’d been on my porch for about twenty minutes now. Lennon told me all about his day at work and how a pipe broke in the bathroom, flooding the back of Tumbleweed Feed.

“Sage came by today with Avery,” I told Len after he was done ranting.

His gaze moved from the field to me. “No shit?”

I took a sip from the long neck, hoping the cool liquid would keep my cheeks from heating at the thought of Sage and her ponytail. “You sound surprised.”

He propped an elbow on the arm of the chair. “I just didn’t expect her to come.”

That got my attention. “Why?”