it has its purposes. And I mean, I also really enjoy alcohol at the end of the day. I can’t buy it, technically. I figure beggars can’t be choosers. Everyone always has beer on hand. But I don’t love it.”
“Hmmmmm.”
I cocked a brow at that. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What do you love? Besides wine, anyway.”
“Ha! I love champagne.” I grinned. “Umm, the usual, I suppose. My family, my dog, riding. There’s not much else.”
“Do you? Love riding?”
I looked again at him, puzzled. “Of course I do. It’s… it’s what I do.”
“Don’t get me wrong, you’re very good at it. I’m asking honestly. Do you really love it? Are you passionate enough about it to do it the rest of your life?”
I pondered that one for longer than I probably should have. “I really am passionate about it. I guess I’m just trying to figure out how I want to go about it. I started out so young competing. It was just what we all did. And I don’t know why I didn’t enjoy it. I liked the idea. I liked the rush. But I would sometimes get to the night before a show, wondering why the heck I was doing it. What was the point? I still don’t know.”
I frowned, thinking. “When I started exercising racehorses, I found something I could really connect to. I was happy on the younger horses, the wilder ones. Sitting on them for their first time, breaking out of the gates for the first time, the speed. In a way it was very simple to teach them what they needed to know. Without all the pressures and other outside forces, it was just me and them. I could feel them, what they needed, how to get the job done. So uncomplicated.” I sighed. “I was good at it. That was a nice feeling.”
“How do you feel about what you’re doing now?”
“Honestly? I enjoy it, but I still feel like I’m floundering a bit. Like I’m always looking for instructions rather than just knowing what to do.” I drank the rest of my beer, grimacing just a tad from the taste and my admission. “But…” I stood up abruptly, gathering up my things and tossing the bottle in the trash. “Those are first-world problems. I’ll figure it all out. And in the meantime, I need sleep. See you tomorrow?”
“Mmmhmm. See you tomorrow. Thanks for everything today.” Ethan was looking at me thoughtfully but didn’t offer up anything else. So with a smile, I turned and walked out to my truck, whistling for Charlie. Ready for home.
Chapter 8
T he next couple of days flew by, and before I knew it, Steph and I were standing at the airport, in line to board our flight. She’d been spending Christmas with me for the past couple of years, ever since her parents’ divorce. To say she wasn’t close with either of them would be a major understatement. My family has completely taken her in as one of our own though, and we’ve always had a great time. Plus with our schedules recently, we had barely seen each other, so I was looking forward to spending some quality time.
As we settled into our tiny seats at the back of the plane, she glanced at me quickly. “So. I met someone.”
“What? Why are you just telling me now?” I was actually a tiny bit hurt that she was just now bringing this up and also realized my feelings made me a hypocrite since I still hadn’t told her about anything with Ethan.
“Eh, it’s new. Well, it’s nothing right now. I just met him at the coffee shop in town. He asked me for my number, and he seemed nice. So I gave it to him. I’m going to a New Year’s Eve party with him.”
“Hey! We always spend New Year’s together!”
“You’re invited too! Yeesh. I wouldn’t do that to you!” She laughed.
“Oh good! You scared me for a minute. I thought maybe we were fighting.”
“No, you’d know for sure if we were fighting. And we never would.”
“True.” I nodded.
“And even more fun, this party is black-tie! It won’t be wild and crazy, but we do get to dress up!”
I actually squeaked a
“Hmmmmm.”
I cocked a brow at that. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What do you love? Besides wine, anyway.”
“Ha! I love champagne.” I grinned. “Umm, the usual, I suppose. My family, my dog, riding. There’s not much else.”
“Do you? Love riding?”
I looked again at him, puzzled. “Of course I do. It’s… it’s what I do.”
“Don’t get me wrong, you’re very good at it. I’m asking honestly. Do you really love it? Are you passionate enough about it to do it the rest of your life?”
I pondered that one for longer than I probably should have. “I really am passionate about it. I guess I’m just trying to figure out how I want to go about it. I started out so young competing. It was just what we all did. And I don’t know why I didn’t enjoy it. I liked the idea. I liked the rush. But I would sometimes get to the night before a show, wondering why the heck I was doing it. What was the point? I still don’t know.”
I frowned, thinking. “When I started exercising racehorses, I found something I could really connect to. I was happy on the younger horses, the wilder ones. Sitting on them for their first time, breaking out of the gates for the first time, the speed. In a way it was very simple to teach them what they needed to know. Without all the pressures and other outside forces, it was just me and them. I could feel them, what they needed, how to get the job done. So uncomplicated.” I sighed. “I was good at it. That was a nice feeling.”
“How do you feel about what you’re doing now?”
“Honestly? I enjoy it, but I still feel like I’m floundering a bit. Like I’m always looking for instructions rather than just knowing what to do.” I drank the rest of my beer, grimacing just a tad from the taste and my admission. “But…” I stood up abruptly, gathering up my things and tossing the bottle in the trash. “Those are first-world problems. I’ll figure it all out. And in the meantime, I need sleep. See you tomorrow?”
“Mmmhmm. See you tomorrow. Thanks for everything today.” Ethan was looking at me thoughtfully but didn’t offer up anything else. So with a smile, I turned and walked out to my truck, whistling for Charlie. Ready for home.
Chapter 8
T he next couple of days flew by, and before I knew it, Steph and I were standing at the airport, in line to board our flight. She’d been spending Christmas with me for the past couple of years, ever since her parents’ divorce. To say she wasn’t close with either of them would be a major understatement. My family has completely taken her in as one of our own though, and we’ve always had a great time. Plus with our schedules recently, we had barely seen each other, so I was looking forward to spending some quality time.
As we settled into our tiny seats at the back of the plane, she glanced at me quickly. “So. I met someone.”
“What? Why are you just telling me now?” I was actually a tiny bit hurt that she was just now bringing this up and also realized my feelings made me a hypocrite since I still hadn’t told her about anything with Ethan.
“Eh, it’s new. Well, it’s nothing right now. I just met him at the coffee shop in town. He asked me for my number, and he seemed nice. So I gave it to him. I’m going to a New Year’s Eve party with him.”
“Hey! We always spend New Year’s together!”
“You’re invited too! Yeesh. I wouldn’t do that to you!” She laughed.
“Oh good! You scared me for a minute. I thought maybe we were fighting.”
“No, you’d know for sure if we were fighting. And we never would.”
“True.” I nodded.
“And even more fun, this party is black-tie! It won’t be wild and crazy, but we do get to dress up!”
I actually squeaked a
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