“I cannot believe you were rude to a guest,” she snapped, shaking her head. “Aidan told me what happened. He was devastated he’d offended you by going into the stables without permission. Why would you yell at him, Harp? Did he do something to piss you off?”
Her jaw dropped. “He was very pushy! Wouldn’t listen to me when I told him to get out of my stable. Then he tried to bribe me with money so he could ride Phoenix.”
Ophelia rolled her eyes. “That’s his big crime? He saw a beautiful horse and wanted to ride him? What did we agree on when we took over the B & B? Do you remember?”
She blew out a breath in aggravation. This was ridiculous. “To back one another up?” she muttered.
Ophelia glared. “No. We agreed you and Ethan would be nice to my guests even if it was hard. I know both of you would rather avoid the social spotlight, but making the guests happy is the most important thing for me. Aidan almost checked out! But he specifically asked if you could lead his trail ride to offer you an apology. And you’re going to give him what he wants.”
Harper opened her mouth to tell her no. Then shut it. Ah, crap, there was no way to win an argument when her sister was on the warpath. It was better to get the whole thing over with. “Fine. But I don’t like him. He seems like a know-it-all.”
“He’s a fellow Irishman from Kildare on holiday and deserves our best hospitality. Understood?”
“Fine,” she said again.
“Good. I booked him and the Grayson couple for one p.m. today. Be nice.” Her sister spun on her heel with her last warning.
Harper couldn’t help it. She stuck her tongue out and immediately felt better.
“Juvenile, Harp,” her sister sang without a break in her stride.
Yep. She was just like Mom.
Pissed off, Harper stomped back into the barn. She hated when her schedule was messed with, and now she’d lose a precious hour babysitting. At least it was a group ride. She could spend most of the time chatting the other couple up and keep a slow pace. No galloping for Mr. I’m-Good-With-Horses O’Connor.
The ridiculous small victory made her pause. Why had he gotten her so mad? She’d met a ton of annoying guests, and she was able to keep her game face on for the good of the inn. He wasn’t the only one who’d ever ventured into the barn to poke around.
Sure, he was good-looking. He had a nice body. Muscular. Solid. His height was surprising—he was actually a few inches taller than her. A rare occurrence, as she towered over most men. Still, he was nothing spectacular, and he shouldn’t have thrown her off.
Owen interrupted her thoughts when he trudged into the barn, a look of fear on his face. With his cherub cheeks, ruddy skin, and wild blond hair that exploded around his face in corkscrew curls, he looked like a surfer dude who’d gotten lost on his way to California. “Harper, that chicken is after me again. I need you to lock him up.”
She sighed. “Hei Hei won’t hurt you. He just likes to squawk and pretend he’s the boss. If you ignore him, he’ll go away. Did you clean out the stalls and refresh the hay and water?”
“Not yet. The chicken’s been following me, so I couldn’t. Hey, can I get off early today? I think I’m coming down with a cold. I have the sniffles.”
“No, you probably just have allergies. The pollen count is high today. I’ll bring Hei Hei back to the house so you can finish the stalls.”
“I don’t think allergies feel like this.” He wrinkled his nose, sniffing dramatically and putting a hand to his forehead. “I may have a fever.”
His phone lit up and he dove for it eagerly, his thumbs flying over the screen as he texted back and dropped out of their conversation.
“Big guys’ night out, huh?” she asked innocently.
“Hell yeah. Dudes want to hit it hard, so . . .” he answered, trailing off as he realized what he’d said. His face fell. “Guess you got me on that one, huh?”
Damn, either he wasn’t that bright or he just wasn’t paying enough attention. “Listen, Owen, your grandfather wants you to do well here. You need to pay off the vandalism. Lying isn’t helping anyone.”
He gave her the perfect puppy-dog look, his baby blues wide and pleading. “You’re right. Please don’t tell him, Harper.”
“Do the stalls and I’ll consider it.”
“Okay, but the smell sometimes makes me gag.” He wandered off, still checking his screen.
She wondered briefly what the future held. The last time she’d gone to Bea’s Diner, an entire family had spent their mealtime with their heads down, gazes glued to their phones. Family dinners at the Bishop farm revolved around chatter and laughing. Connection. She hoped Owen would begin to notice the beauty of the animals around him and appreciate the farm. Real joy existed beyond his Instagram followers. She’d like to show him that.
Shaking her head, she got back to work and did her best to stuff in as many tasks as possible until her fated horseback ride. The hours flew by, and she had just begun to pull the horses to prep them when the air seemed to thicken, reminding her of the tension before a storm exploded. She turned her head and met Aidan’s gaze head-on, and everything inside her stilled.
“Hello, Harper.”
Her belly did a long, slow flip-flop. Damn Irish brogue. What was it about a man with an accent that made women weak at the knees? Guess she wasn’t immune, even though her clichéd reaction annoyed her.
Harper turned and swept her gaze over his figure. He wore casual faded jeans and a simple green T-shirt, which stretched over a nice set of muscles and broad chest. His hair was closely cropped, the crisp strands the color of straw. He had a broad, defined nose, arched brows, and full lips enhanced by just the slightest stubble. Tiny lines bracketed his eyes and mouth, evidence he liked to laugh. But it was his eyes that got her. How hadn’t she noticed them before? The color of mysterious amber, a mixture of brown and gold that seemed to glow with a direct intensity. A woman could get lost in a gaze that deep. A woman could get found.
A woman could get into trouble.
Harper nodded a greeting and shook off her strange thoughts. “Ready for your ride?” she asked politely.
“Been looking forward to it.” He strode close, reaching out to stroke Maximus, letting his fingers linger so the stallion could catch his scent. He hadn’t been lying when he said he was good with horses. She caught it in his very aura, the sense of familiarity and comfort as he stroked the horse’s flank and double-checked the fit of the saddle. His scent drifted to her nostrils. Clean and earthy. Like woods mixed with freshly cut grass. “Just us today?” he asked.
She almost gave another sniff before catching herself and stepping back. “No, we have another couple joining us.”
“This fine one mine?”
She watched his hands rub the horse. They looked rough and hard, with a few lingering blisters. Working hands. This man didn’t push paperwork around. “Yes, his name is Maximus. I’m assuming you’re an expert rider?”
“Yes. Been around horses my whole life. They’re family.”
The simple words stirred her emotions. It was rare she heard men talk like that about animals.
He murmured something in the horse’s ear, and Maximus gave a snort of pleasure.