Though the barn is gorgeous, they’re probably wondering what we’re doing in a place so nice it still smells more like a new car than a farm with stables seasoned by years of use.
I’m not expecting to see anyone in the barn, so I’m startled when I open the door and see a tall, dark silhouette brushing Stern.
Ridge.
I should’ve known this is where he’d gone after clearing a pathway through the snow to the door. Then again, paths were also shoveled to all of the outbuildings, including the guest cabin.
“Now you’ve gone and done it. You’ll be his best friend for life,” I say, closing the door behind me. “Stern loves being brushed.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Ridge says quietly, a smile curling his lips.
I frown slightly.
He turns and his smile breaks into a grin. “I think he’s almost asleep.”
A laugh rumbles in my throat.
“Yeah, probably,” I whisper, stepping closer. “He’s been known to do that. Just drifts off with a nice shiny coat.”
“The stall should hold him up if he falls over,” Ridge says, still whispering and running the brush over Stern’s back. “I just hope he tilts away from me.”
Something about his easy smile and the way he’s keeping his voice low for the sleepy horse makes my heart tingle.
So he’s a weirdo, maybe, but he’s a nice weirdo.
I don’t think I’m fawning over the former A-lister the entire world knows. Of course he’s good-looking, but it’s his attitude, his kindheartedness, that’s turning my crank just now.
“He won’t fall.” I pat Rosie’s rump on my way to where there are several shiny new curry combs and brushes filling a shelf.
“I know,” he says. “Even when they’re sleeping like the dead, they never totally let go. These guys don’t get groggy or hungover like people do.”
“You know your way around horses, don’t you?” I say, selecting a soft bristle brush for Rosie.
“No choice.” His voice sounds slightly off, and his eyes stay glued to the horse, bringing the brush away from Stern so he can pat the beast’s neck.
“Did you have horses growing up?” I ask.
“I starred in several Westerns. Big damn commercial flops full of bad writing, but I had fun with the cast, including the ones on four legs. And before that…yeah, I grew up riding a bit.”
I nod, totally blanking on his recent, more subdued acting history. He just doesn’t seem like a famous actor right now, out here in the barn. He’s more like a normal guy tending his ranch.
An average guy with amazing looks who loves to butt in on situations he shouldn’t.
Technically, nothing about that screams average.
The fact that he’s a famous somebody just makes it weirder. A rich and famous actor, Hollywood royalty, who rescued us from only God knows what if Jackknife Pete had his way.
“These guys are getting up there in age, aren’t they?” he asks as I start brushing Rosie.
“A little bit,” I answer. “But don’t tell them that. I think they’d both hate to be put out to pasture totally, even if we save them from the heavier work these days.”
“That why you’re taking them to Montana?”
“No.” I tilt my head, studying him, unsure where he’s going with this sudden round of questioning.
“Still won’t spill your secrets, huh?”
He barely throws his gaze over, and we lock eyes.
For a second, I lose myself in that weary, knowing smirk of his.
“I…I told you, it’s not my place.” Changing the subject before it gets heated, I ask, “Last night you said you planned on buying livestock. Does that mean horses, too?”
“Probably. I had the place stocked with everything I’d need. Told the boys who furnished this place to set me up for a little of everything. Don’t know if I can handle hogs, though…have you smelled some of the pig farms around here?”
“Um, yeah. Animals of all kinds are kinda little poop factories. What goes in comes out a lot…like, a lot a lot.”
Ridge grins and then breaks into a chuckle.
Oh, my.
I might just keep the dumb, sarcastic statements coming if I could listen to that laugh all day.
He rests an elbow on Stern’s back and looks at me over the stall walls. “Are these two for sale? Is that why you’re asking what kind of furry crap-machines I’m so eager to buy?”
My smile fades. I hold in a sigh.
“These two aren’t worth much, I’m afraid. They can’t do heavy labor like horses in their prime.”
“So they’re priceless, you mean. Gotcha.”
I frown, unsure I follow him.
He rakes a vivid blue side-eye over me and shrugs. “You can’t put a dollar sign on pets or family, and I’d say these two are both. They’re in good shape for their age. Shows they’ve been well taken care of, and they like plenty of attention.”
I nod. “That’s true, they’re basically pets now. It wasn’t like that when we first got them. They came with the farm my father bought outside of Milwaukee. They’d been neglected by the previous owner. They were both so thin you could see their ribs.”