Free Love Somebody Like You by Susan Fox Page A

producers. “They’re pretty. What kinds are they?”
    â€œThe black-and-white stripy ones are Barred Rocks and the apricot ones are Buff Orpingtons.”
    â€œBuff what?”
    â€œOrpington for the town in England where they originated. Buff for the color.”
    â€œLearn something every day. Their eggs sure looked good.”
    Sally folded her arms across her chest. “Are you heading off now?”
    â€œUnless you need me to groom those horses in the barn, I thought I’d take Chaunce for a ride. He could use some exercise.”
    â€œOh. Um, sure, that makes sense.”
    Her surprised expression made him think twice. “I can do it later. Want me to help with the next horses?”
    â€œNo. No, I was planning to do it. Go ahead.”
    Before taking that ride, Ben went to his trailer, yanking off his grubby work boots before entering. He opened his phone and got on the Internet to look up the physiotherapist Sally had mentioned. Monique Labelle’s bio said that, among other things, she did rehab for sports injuries. He called her office, explained his situation, and the sympathetic receptionist said she’d squeeze him in this afternoon.
    Whistling, he put on riding boots and went to get his horse. A quarter of an hour later, Chaunce strode eagerly down the road with Ben riding bareback.
    â€œI’m seeing a physio,” he told his horse. “Maybe she’ll clear me to get back to roping practice, and Sally’ll let us use her spare ring.”
    Chaunce bobbed his head like he couldn’t wait.
    â€œSorry, pal, but for now you’ll have to settle for a trail ride.” It was easy on Ben’s body and he did enjoy exploring the countryside. On an inside wall of Sally’s barn, she had a map showing a network of farm roads and riding trails. Yesterday, a rider he crossed paths with had told him that a number of the trails were on private property, but the owners allowed public access through portions of their spreads.
    Setting Chaunce into a comfortable lope, Ben took a dirt farm road for ten minutes or so. He stopped at a gate in a fence, bent down to unlatch it, and guided his horse through. Latching it again, he noted the sign reminding passers-through to do exactly that. No farmer or rancher wanted livestock going astray. The new trail led through a grove of aspens, slim and lovely with their white bark and gently rustling leaves. At a walk, Chaunce negotiated the twists and turns until they came out at the shore of a small lake. A beaver dam cut off part of the stream that fed into the lake. There was no beach, and probably no swimming due to submerged logs the beavers had cut.
    Ben swung off Chaunce’s back, dropped the reins knowing his well-trained horse would neither step on them nor stray, and walked closer to the bank. His boots sank into the boggy ground as he admired white water lilies floating among heart-shaped green pads. Dragonflies stirred the air with shimmery wings and ducks bobbed their heads beneath the surface of the water, hunting for food. It would be a nice spot for a picnic.
    Did Sally ever take time off and go riding for pure pleasure? Did she picnic by a lake, maybe nap under the shade of an aspen? Or how about getting together with friends for a meal, or going to a bar to listen to some music, shoot a game of pool, dance the two-step the way she used to on the rodeo circuit?
    She’d said she didn’t have time to go to town. Now that he was here to assist her, she ought to be able to enjoy some R&R. Preferably with him. He wanted time with the Sally who smiled at little kids, who whipped her buckskin mare around the barrels, who named her chickens and carried on conversations with them.
    Why did that Sally go into hiding so often? Was it fear, because of something some jerk had done? Or might some of it be grief over Pete’s death? He’d seen how beaten-down his grandma was after she was widowed. But