Chapter 13

“I bought a horse.”

“I’m sorry…you bought a what?”

“A horse.” Bryson repeated. “Done deal, over and out, and at the risk of sounding like a spoiled brat, I’d really appreciate it if nobody tried to change my mind right now.”

His mother put one hand over her mouth. She looked back at the truck. “And I suppose that the man up there has something to do with it?”

Bryson didn’t follow her gaze. “Big? Dark hair? Kind of an ugly bastard?”

She hummed a noncommittal sound. “William, take your son somewhere he can sit down before he falls down.”

“No, Mom! I can’t. I have to—”

She held up one finger, daring him with her eyes to continue. “I will take it from here. Don’t worry about your horse. Whatever the story is, we’ll get it where it needs to be. You go cool off.”