Too bad he was going to be dead when Kennedy killed him long before the reception.
“Connie, it was nice meeting you,” Kennedy said, eager to escape. “Excuse me, would you?” She gave Andrew her empty champagne flute and a look that said, I’ll deal with you later.
She walked toward Reed, willing him to step away from the person he was speaking with to have a quick word with her. When he didn’t, she lingered nearby, waiting for the opportunity. Finally he turned her way.
“Hey,” he said, moving closer. “Thanks for sticking around.”
“Hi. How are you?”
He searched the party, his gaze settling on Elle across the grass. She looked over at them. “I can’t really talk now.”
“Okay. When?”
“I’ll text you tonight or tomorrow.”
“Reed.” She put her hand on his forearm. “I’m worried about you.”
“I know, but you don’t need to be.”
“Are you saying you do want to get married?”
“I’m saying—”
“Reed? Sorry to interrupt, but we need you for a couple of pictures.” The photographer wore a camera with a large lens around her neck. “I’ve got some perfect natural lighting I want to take advantage of.”
“Sure,” he said, giving Kennedy a small smile in goodbye.
Damn it. Something still wasn’t right, and she hoped they got a chance to talk sooner rather than later. The not knowing where he stood gnawed at her.
A tall, dark-haired guy around her age sidled up beside her. “Hey, Elaine, right?”
She glared at Andrew on the other side of the party, laughing like he was the funniest person on the ranch.
“Right,” she said, torn between who was the worst right now, her best friend or Maverick.
Chapter Seven
Five days until the wedding
Maverick tacked up Magnolia for a ride to check the property lines. A Morgan horse, her shiny black coloring and expressive head were but two of her many attributes. Ten years old now, she showed no signs of slowing down, instead happy to stretch her legs at a trot or jump logs and harness race. Her great temperament made it easy on him.
The smell of pine and dirt, wildflowers and ocean, filled his nose as they rode across fields of grass, up and down tree-lined hills, along dirt paths, and finally around the edges of the property.
“Looks good,” he said to Magnolia, eyeing the fencing while they trotted alongside it. He and Hunter had fixed a few broken places earlier in the summer, and he’d be hard-pressed to locate those spots now. On the rare occasion Cole ventured this far out, he’d compliment them until his face turned blue. The last thing their older brother wanted was to have any part of maintaining the physical property. Cole’s expertise was running the inn, from financials to reservations to greeting guests and making sure they enjoyed their stay. Bethany handled the front desk, marketing, and their social media presence.
It was important to Maverick that before he left for his trip, everything was running as smoothly as possible, without any hint of neglect or worry. He’d be back by Thanksgiving at the latest, to help with the influx of work, but that meant for three months nothing could go wrong. In moments like this, if he thought too hard about it, he almost changed his mind about leaving. The guilt of traveling weighed on him, but if he didn’t go, he worried he’d never forgive himself.
“What do you call a horse that can’t lose a race?” he asked aloud.
Magnolia gave a little shake of her head, like she always did.
“Sherbet.”
She nickered, again like always, the weekly joke between them part of their routine. Yep, his horse understood jokes, too.
By midafternoon, they were back at the barn. Maverick led Magnolia to her stall, acutely aware of the woman standing two feet back from George’s enclosure. She’d changed into jeans and a pale pink T-shirt, brand-new white sneakers on her feet. He wouldn’t call it an improvement over her dress, because she always looked pretty, but it was definitely more practical.
He freed Magnolia of her tack and loved on her for a minute before taking off his cowboy hat and walking over to Kennedy.
“Hey,” he said to his surprise intruder.
“Hi.”
They stood side by side as poor George waited for some tangible attention. Kennedy stood even shorter without heels or the boots, and he couldn’t help but inwardly smile, thinking once again how much she hated being called Shortcake.
“What brings you to my barn this afternoon, Shortcake?”
She ignored the nickname. “I was curious.”
“About mules?”
“Among other things.”
He wasn’t opening that can of worms. No way. “You can touch George if you’d like. He likes ear scratches.”
“He won’t bite?”
“No.”
She kept her feet planted in place and tentatively stretched out her arm, fingers extended.
“He’s more of a nibbler,” Maverick added as George pushed his nose through the gate, startling Kennedy. She whipped her arm back so fast, she almost toppled over.
“Jerk,” she said. He was pretty sure she meant him and not George.
He took her hand in his and brought it to George’s ear. “He really does love to get scratched right here, and his nibbles don’t hurt.”
Her breath caught when he let go, leaving her to rub George on her own, but she kept her hand in place. Her shoulders slowly relaxed.
“How about you take George for a ride?”
“No thanks.”
Hmm…it couldn’t be that easy, could it? “You’re not scared, are you?”
Her jaw tensed. “No.”
“Prove it.”
“Hey, you two.” Hunter strolled into the barn, standing a little straighter than normal, his chest puffing out.
Maverick glared at him. His timing, not to mention posturing, was damn annoying.
Chuckling under his breath, Hunt came to a stop right next to Kennedy. “Nice to see you again, Kennedy.”
“Hunter, right?”
“Right. You thinking of riding George? He’s fantastic with beginners, but I’m afraid he and I have a date.”
“Oh?” Kennedy glanced away from Hunter and shot Maverick a quick glance, one that said, Guess I can’t prove it now.