Chapter 30

Needing to change the subject, Dayton said, “Come on. There’s a little fellow down here that I think you’ll like to see.”

Curiosity piqued, Shayna followed Dayton down a narrow, worn path that led to a smaller paddock nestled behind one of the larger barns. As they approached the paddock, she noticed a small, vibrant figure in the distance. The little fellow turned out to be a colt, a bundle of youthful energy and curiosity. His white coat was splotched with bay red spots, giving him a striking, piebald appearance. His mane, untamed and wild, stuck out in all directions like a child's messy hair after a day of play. The moment he saw Dayton and Shayna, the colt nickered excitedly and trotted over to the fence, his tiny hooves kicking up small clouds of dust.

“He was born in July last year, so he’s nearly eight months old now,” Dayton explained, his voice filled with fondness. “You like him?”

Shayna’s breath caught in her throat as she reached out to stroke the colt’s soft muzzle. For a moment, she felt a rush of pure, unadulterated joy, the kind she hadn't experienced since her father passed away. “He’s adorable,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What’s his name?”

Dayton’s smile widened, a gentle curve of his lips that made her feel both warm and unnerved at the same time. Why did he have to smile at her like that, as if she were somebody special to him? Just when she was telling herself that Dayton was a stranger, and she wanted him to stay that way, he had to go and do something to make her feel connected to him all over again. It was torment, pure and simple.

“I haven’t registered a formal name for him yet,” Dayton replied, his eyes twinkling with a secret delight. “I’m going to let Charlene do that. She doesn’t know it, but this little guy is going to be her wedding present from me.”

Shayna turned her head to look at him, her eyebrows arching in surprise. “She can ride?”

Dayton chuckled, a deep, rich sound that seemed to resonate with the very soul of the ranch. “Don’t let her know it, but Charlene can outride me any day. She’s been riding since she was a little girl. Always had a natural knack for it. This colt will be perfect for her.”

As the colt nuzzled her hand, Shayna couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for Dayton. Here was a man who understood the simple joys of life, who found happiness in giving a small horse as a gift to his sister. The realization was bittersweet. The man she had come to loathe for his supposed ruthlessness was showing her a side of himself that was kind and thoughtful.

She pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the colt. Shayna found herself smiling despite everything. “He’s beautiful,” she murmured, feeling a connection to the colt that went beyond words. “Charlene’s a lucky girl.”

Dayton nodded, his expression softening. “She is. And so am I, to have her in my life. Family means everything to me, Shayna. That’s why I’m doing all of this, for them. For the future.”

His words hung in the air. Shayna felt a pang of guilt. She had come here with the intention of exacting revenge, of making him pay for the perceived wrongs he had done to her. But seeing him now, so genuine and caring, she found her resolve wavering. Could she really go through with it? Could she betray this man who seemed to care so deeply about the same things that mattered to her?

“She’s my sister. I want her to be happy.”

Even though I can’t be. Dayton hadn’t spoken the words, but Shayna had heard them just the same. She suddenly yearned to ask him about Mel. Why couldn’t he let go of her memory and give himself a chance to find happiness with someone else?

But Shayna kept the questions to herself. Dayton’s life, or what he did with it, wasn’t her business. She was just a temporary guest and she knew that Dayton wouldn’t hesitate to remind her of the fact.

In silent agreement, they moved on through the barn, lingering long enough at each stall for Dayton to introduce its occupant to Shayna. Eventually her ankle began to ache and she told Dayton she’d better go back to the house.

“There’s one more thing I want to show you before we go,” he said.

Curious, she followed him through a door and into a dark room. Dayton pulled a string hanging from the ceiling and a light bulb glared to life. Blinking from the sudden light, she glanced around her.

Covered barrels lined one wall, while the back end of the room was stacked several feet deep with feed sacks. Saddles, some new looking and some old and worn, hung by their horns from ropes thrown over the rafters. The sweet smell of molasses mixed with the scent of leather and saddle soap filled the room. Intrigued by the unfamiliar sights and smells, Shayna stood in the middle of the room and drank it all in.

“Is this what you wanted to show me? What do you call this? A feed room? A tack room?”

Dayton smiled as he watched her eyes roam over an intricately carved fender on a saddle. Her curiosity pleased him, because each saddle and horse were like old, familiar friends to him. He wanted her to like them as much as he did.

As the light illuminated the small, cluttered room, Shayna’s eyes adjusted to the surroundings. The space was a blend of old and new, of history and practicality. It was a working room, a space where the everyday operations of the ranch were organized and executed.

She took a moment to absorb the various items in the room, each one telling a story of its own. The barrels covered with cloth hinted at the preservation of grains or perhaps homemade brews, while the stacked feed sacks spoke to the ongoing care and sustenance of the animals on the ranch. The saddles hanging from the rafters varied in condition seeming to whisper tales of long rides, cattle drives, and the bond between horse and rider.

Shayna moved closer to a particularly well-worn saddle, its leather cracked and darkened with age. She reached out to touch it, her fingers brushing against the smooth, cool surface. The scent of leather mingled with the sweet, rich aroma of molasses, creating a comforting, earthy smell.

“This was one of your father’s saddles,” Dayton said. “He used it for years. Told me once it was his favorite because it fit him just right, like an old pair of boots.”

Shayna’s heart clenched at the mention of her father. She ran her fingers along the saddle’s edge, feeling a connection to the man who had once ridden it across these very fields. She could almost hear his voice, gentle and steady, guiding her through the rhythms of ranch life.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “He always took such good care of his gear.”

Dayton nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “He sure did. He had a way with things, a respect for the tools and the land. It’s something that’s hard to find these days.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, meeting his eyes. “For everything.”

Dayton’s smile widened, and he gave a small nod. “There’s more I want to show you,” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. “Come on.”

He led her through a narrow doorway at the back of the room, opening into another space that was dimly lit by a single window. As they stepped inside, the first thing Shayna noticed was a series of wooden boxes stacked along one wall. She recognized them immediately—they were beehives, the same kind she had seen earlier outside.

“These are the indoor hives,” Dayton explained, gesturing to the boxes. “During the winter months, we bring some of the colonies inside to keep them warm and protect them from the harsh weather.”

Shayna moved closer to the hives, fascinated by the soft hum of the bees within. She could see the bees moving through the glass panels, their tiny bodies working tirelessly to maintain the hive. The sight was mesmerizing. .

“They’re amazing,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “I’ve read about beekeeping, but seeing it up close like this is incredible.”

Dayton smiled, clearly pleased with her reaction. “They do a lot for us,” he said. “Not just with the honey, but with pollinating the crops and the flowers. They’re an essential part of the ecosystem here.”

Shayna nodded, her mind racing with thoughts of how interconnected everything was—the bees, the land, the animals, and the people who cared for them. It was a delicate balance, one that required care and respect to maintain.

Dayton moved to a nearby table and picked up a small jar of honey, holding it out to her. “Here,” he said. “This is from last season. I think you’ll like it.”

Shayna took the jar, her fingers wrapping around the cool glass. She unscrewed the lid and dipped her finger into the golden liquid, bringing it to her lips. The honey was sweet and rich, with a complexity that spoke of wildflowers and the essence of the land.

“It’s delicious,” she said, savoring the taste. “You can really taste the difference.”

Dayton nodded, his eyes shining with pride. “That’s the beauty of it. Each batch is unique, reflecting the flowers the bees visited and the care we put into keeping the hives healthy.”

As they moved through the saddle room, Shayna’s curiosity led her to an area near the back, where Dayton was squatting beside a pile of empty feed sacks. Intrigued, she carefully navigated around the various saddles and bridles. She found Dayton beside a brindle-colored dog, nestled on an old saddle blanket, nursing four tiny puppies.

“Oh, how precious!” Shayna exclaimed with undisguised pleasure, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the newborn pups. The puppies, no larger than her hand, were a delightful tangle of fur and tiny paws, each one a miniature version of their mother.

Dayton glanced up at her with a warm smile. “They’re a cute bunch, aren’t they?” he said, his voice soft and affectionate.

Kneeling down beside him, Shayna leaned in for a closer look at the puppies. They squirmed and nuzzled against each other, their little bodies warm and soft. The mother dog, calm and trusting, watched them with a gentle gaze, her eyes reflecting the quiet wisdom of a creature who had done this before.

“Will the mother let you touch them?” Shayna asked, her voice barely above a whisper as if not wanting to disturb the serene scene before her.

“Sure,” Dayton replied, reaching out to gently stroke the mother dog’s head. “She’s an old hand around here. She knows we won’t hurt her babies.”

He extended his hand to Shayna, inviting her to pet the mother dog. Shayna tentatively reached out, her fingers brushing against the dog’s soft fur. The mother leaned into her touch, her tail wagging slightly in contentment. Encouraged, Shayna gently touched one of the puppies, feeling the delicate warmth of its tiny body.

“They’re so tiny and perfect,” Shayna marveled, her heart swelling with a tender affection she hadn’t expected to feel. “How old are they?”

“They were born just a few days ago,” Dayton explained, his gaze soft as he watched the puppies. “They’ve got a lot of growing to do, but they’re off to a good start.”

“They’re beautiful,” she said softly, her eyes meeting Dayton’s. “Thank you for showing them to me.”

“Here,” he said, picking up a puppy and handing it to Shayna, “hold him and see how you like him.”

Even though she knew it was probably childish, she couldn’t help gushing over the furry little animal.

“He’s beautiful,” Shayna murmured, “I’m sure he’ll look very regal when he grows up.”

She was cuddling the ball of fur to her cheeks as if he were more precious than a diamond. And the sight touched a place inside Dayton that he hadn’t even known existed before now.

“I want you to have him,” he told her.

Shayna lifted her eyes to Dayton. His face was only inches away, so near she could see the pores in his skin, the faint ragged line of his bottom lip, the warm light in his eyes. And in that moment she felt very close to him, closer than she’d ever felt to anyone in her life.

“You want me to have him?” she asked, unaware that her voice had dropped to an awed whisper.

She made it sound as if he were giving her the world, and for the first time in a long time, Dayton felt a sense of pure joy fill his chest and spread a smile across his face.

“Yeah. I want him to be yours. Don’t you like him?”

She glanced down at the baby cradled gently in her palms, then back to Dayton, “I love him. But Dayton, what would I do with a puppy? I’m headed west.”

Suddenly some of the pleasure of his gift faded, “Well, surely cats live all over.” he reasoned.

“I’m sure they do. But I’ll probably be in a flat. I might not have a yard, or a place for him to roam.”

His eyes studied her face, “That’s important to you, isn’t it? That living things have enough space to roam free.”