Chapter Twenty

Luke left Ace out in the pasture after Sarah spoiled him with a brush-down and an apple. Then he took Sarah and the boys riding. Jack and Nick had become very proficient, even if Stella and Mandy were more likely than not to follow Luke’s horse and pace. Sarah brought up the rear of their little line of horses. While the boys chatted with each other and about anything and everything around them, Sarah remained relatively quiet.

He wondered if her mind was on work, but he hoped she was simply enjoying the early morning ride across the dewy fields.

“I’m hungry,” Nick announced for the tenth time.

“We’re almost there. Just up and over this small hill.”

“Will you make pancakes?” Jack asked.

“That’s the plan.”

They rode into the yard outside the stables. He dismounted and went to Jack to help him down. Sarah plucked Nick off his horse.

He caught her slightly swaying before she caught herself. “Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?”

She gave him a weak smile. “Head rush.”

“Why don’t you head up to the house? I’ll put the horses away.”

Sarah shook her head. “Really. I’m good.”

He wondered how often she said that to herself and others when it wasn’t really true.

“Come on, boys, take the reins and lead your horses to their stalls.”

He walked his horse and Sarah’s in, then called out to two of the hands cleaning stalls. “Take these horses to their stalls. Brush them down and make sure they’ve got feed and water.” They hadn’t gone on a long or strenuous ride, so the horses would be fine in their stalls until they were let out into the pasture later.

Nick and Jack ran back to him and Sarah.

“Can we go up to the house and get something to drink?”

Luke held his hand out toward the stable doors. “Go on up. There’s some juice boxes in the fridge. Your mom and I will be there in a few minutes.” He waited for the boys to take off for the house.

Once they were out of sight, he turned to Sarah, cupped her face, and leaned down and kissed her softly. “You need to go to bed.”

“Is that an invitation? Because . . .” She pulled her buzzing phone out of her pocket. “I’ve got fifty-seven new emails. And as patient as you’ve been doing the whole dating thing and taking time to get to know me . . .” Exhaustion hung on her; she was too tired to even smile at him.

“Sweetheart, I’m serious.” He brushed the wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail away from her face.

“I like it when you do that.”

“Touching you is my favorite thing to do.”

A soft smile tilted her lips, but her cheeks remained pale. “That. But also when you call me nice things. No one has ever called me ‘sweetheart’ or ‘honey.’ You do it a lot and I like it.”