any moment, the sun would spill across the far horizon. Westin didn’t move, didn’t hardly take a breath, as he waited. And watched.
Another bird trilled.
And there it was.
Gold bloomed at the point of the rising sun, turning the sky brilliant. More birds chattered; it seemed they were enjoying nature’s finest as well.
Whatever was going on in his life, whatever disappointments, whatever aches or bruises, however much his missed his dad, the sight of the rising sun always gave Westin a new sense of hope. A fresh start for a new day.
The sound of thudding footsteps drew his attention, and he turned his head toward it. From his position where he laid beneath his pickup truck, Westin caught a glimpse of someone jogging toward the truck.
Maybe not jogging. More like running. Through a field at dawn? Why off the road?
“No, no, no,” a woman’s voice muttered, accompanied by fast breathing.
He scooted out from under the truck, where he’d spent many a nights on the road. It came in handy when he didn’t want to stop for a hotel, or worry about getting rained on if he slept in the bed of the truck. The inside of the cab was too cramped for his long legs.
Westin spotted the jogger. Still running. The woman with long, dark hair sped past him and around to the other side of the truck. Something about her was familiar, but then his attention was redirected.
Here came Maggie at a pretty decent gallop. One of Ryan’s more spirited mares. She was still young, but once she matured, she’d be an excellent barrel racer. And apparently . . . she was chasing the dark-haired woman.
“Whoa, hold up,” Westin said, raising his hand as he strode toward the horse. Maggie slowed down as she neared the truck.
Her breath flared her nostrils, and her sides heaved.
“Where you goin’, Maggie girl?” Westin said, approaching, then placing a hand on the horse’s neck. Her pulse was thundering, and he stroked her neck, trying to calm her. “What’s got you all worked up?”
“You know that horse?” the woman said from the other side of the truck.
Now that Westin felt free enough to look over, he recognized the woman. Silvia Diaz.
Similar to the last time he saw her, less than twenty-four hours ago, she was out of sorts. But this time, for a different reason.
She stood near the tailgate now, her forehead damp with perspiration, and her ponytail with flyaways. She wore a fitted tank shirt and pink running shorts. Which made her as pretty as a picture, in Westin’s opinion. And if this was a bigger Texas town, he wouldn’t exactly agree with her out running at dawn by herself.
“This is Maggie,” Westin said. “She’s one of Ryan Prosper’s horses.”
Silvia’s brown eyes narrowed, her hands gripping the edge of the truck. “I was out jogging, and she started chasing me. Is that normal? A horse chasing a human?”
Westin hesitated, then looked at Maggie. “Were you chasing Miss Diaz?”
The horse looked completely innocent of any misdeeds.
When Westin looked back to Silvia, she’d folded her arms. “You’re seriously asking the horse a question?” she asked, her voice raising in pitch. “You saw for yourself. The horse was chasing me. That’s gotta be dangerous. What if she’d knocked me down or something?”
Westin tried to picture it in his head, but he couldn’t. Maggie wasn’t a wild horse, only spirited. If anything, she was probably just joining in the fun of running with someone else. “Maggie’s young, and she was trying to interact with—”
“By chasing me and nearly giving me a heart attack?” she shot back.
Now, if you asked him, Silvia Diaz looked very healthy, with zero potential for a heart attack. He wasn’t sure how she’d take that answer, though, and he had the sense he needed to tread carefully here.
“Have you been around horses much, Miss Diaz?”
“Silvia.”
He nodded. “Silvia.”
She exhaled, still a bit shaky. “Not really. I mean, I once did a horseback riding lesson, but that didn’t go well.”
As Westin continued to stroke Maggie’s neck, she dropped her head and began to graze. Adventure over, she was now hungry.
“What happened?” Westin found himself asking—because he was truly curious. And he was finding this young woman more and more intriguing.
“Uh.” She lifted a hand and smoothed back some of her flyaway hair. “Well. Axel—my brother, you know—thought it would be a fun family weekend to go to one of his friends’ ranches. By the time the weekend was over, I’d twisted my ankle after trying to