Or maybe the mustangs, still wild and multiplying with every passing year, served to remind them of how life had been, once upon a time. Genetic memory of the equine variety.

“I guess I’m ready to head for home,” Sara said. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time, and I need to get back to my manuscript.”

Privately, J.P. reflected that it hadn’t taken the woman long to achieve her purpose, but he didn’t comment. Back at the house, after he’d unsaddled the gelding and the mare and turned them out to graze with the rest of his horses, he’d probably go online, check the current status of the market, maybe make a few adjustments to his portfolio. Then he’d climb into his truck and make the fifteen-minute drive to his folks’ corner of the ranch and the log A-frame they’d retired to, once J.P. took over the nuts and bolts of the family cattle operation.

The senior McCalls, John and Sylvia, were healthy, active and thoroughly independent, but J.P. liked to check on them every so often, just the same. His older sisters, Clare and Josie, lived in California and Virginia respectively, and they expected regular reports on the state of the parental units, via text or social media. They didn’t entirely trust the pair to speak up if they needed help or simply wanted some company.

Sara brought J.P. back to the present moment with a soft, “Is it enough for you, this ranch, I mean? Maybe I’m overstepping here, but don’t you get lonely?”

J.P. was surprised by the questions but, oddly, not offended. Now that Eli and Cord were both happily married, and starting families, lots of people probably wondered when he would follow suit. God knew his parents and sisters weren’t shy about asking, though he always responded, with varying degrees of annoyance, that they ought to mind their own business.

“Everybody gets lonely sometimes,” he replied after a few moments of silence.

The barn was in sight now, and the horses were picking up speed, ready to join the small herd grazing on tall sweet grass.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” Sara said quickly, obviously uncomfortable.

J.P. smiled, but sparely. “It’s okay, Sara,” he replied.

The truth was he did get lonely, especially at night, and he wanted a wife and family, too.

It was just that he wasn’t willing to settle, when it came to love.

He dated a lot, mostly women from other towns, but marriage was something else. He wanted what his mom and dad had together, what Cord had with Shallie, and Eli had with Brynne—a true bond, so deep and so sacred that it seemed predestined, cosmic in scope.

So far, he hadn’t met the right woman. In fact, he sometimes wondered if she was out there at all.