“You almost got yourself shot,” he says. “What in the fuck are you doing out here at one in the morning?”

“How in the hell did you know I was here?” I ask, still trying to get my heart to calm down.

“You triggered the alarm,” he says, pointing at the door. “I have it set up in my house. It tells me everything.”

“Well, would you look at that.” I smile at him. “Can you help me saddle her?” I ask. “And can you please put that gun away?”

He puts the gun down and walks over to the far end of the barn, returning with my saddle. “When I found out you were coming home, I had her cleaned up and shined,” he says. Opening the stall door, he holds up his hand, calling Lady. She slowly comes out and waits for him to put the saddle on her. He ties it tight around her belly and then steps back. “You need help mounting her?” His voice comes out smooth, and I cringe.

“One, I can’t even with that sentence,” I say, pushing him aside, “and two, I don’t need you to help me do anything but open the garage door.”

“Want company?” he asks me when I walk over to Lady and pet the side of her neck. I shake my head. “Okay. Well, leave the saddle on her, and I’ll take care of it when I come in,” he says, grabbing the shotgun and then walking out.

“You could put on boots and get a gun, but you couldn’t put on a shirt?” I ask, and he shrugs.

“I was hoping it was Olivia,” he says, and I groan. “Be safe.” He opens the barn door, and I put one foot in the stirrup and swing my leg over to sit on her. She backs up a couple of steps and then slowly she walks forward. “Be careful. She gets pissy when you try to guide her too much, and last time, she tried to buck Mom off.”

“She’s good,” I say, holding the reins in both of my hands. “It’s like riding a bike.” Using my foot, I make her start to trot. “That’s a good girl.”