Page 32 of The Rancher’s One and Only

“Well, I do think it has a feeling. A very particular feeling to it.”

“Expand.”

“I just think that it has a sort of mystical energy. Like I would imagine a fantasy world in a fantasy novel has.”

“You do like your fantasy novels.”

“I do. The Lord of the Rings was life-altering for me. Book and film.”

“Why?”

“Because. Frodo is completely insignificant. He’s a very different sort of hero—and don’t get me wrong, a lot of heroes’ journeys take an unlikely hero and put him at the center of everything, but I feel like I relate to him deeply. He didn’t ask for the burden of the ring. It was thrust upon him. I always kind of felt that way about my…”

“Your brain?”

“I was going to say that, but I realize it sounded conceited. And I don’t actually mean it that way. I don’t only mean my brain. I mean all the things that I am. It’s not really greatness so much as something to be wrangled and dealt with, and I don’t know… Sometimes it feels burdensome. Sometimes I want to hang on to it, and sometimes I want to cast it into the fire. But the thing is, Frodo is strong enough for the journey. And I always hope that I am.”

“It seems like you’re really successful.”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “I am. My parents are sort of disappointed in me, though, I think.”

“How could your parents be disappointed in a kid that got her PhD at nineteen?”

“Because they don’t understand me. It’s not success the way that they perceive it. I don’t make a ton of money. I’m not famous. And then in their world, they put a lot of emphasis on… They still live back in our old neighborhood, and so do my sisters. They’ll never leave, because they have this status there. And that matters to them. It’s the most important thing. It’s very funny, because in that sense, they would be great academics. So very concerned with the hierarchy of a microcosmic terrarium. But I think because I’m not social climbing I’m boring.”

“Social climbing? Sounds petty to me.”

He pulled up to the barn, and put the truck in Park then turned the engine off. She climbed out of the vehicle, following him into the pristine facility. It was rustic, but lovely, each stable clearly labeled with the horse’s name.

“Your guests are going to really enjoy this,” she said.

“You think so?”

“It really is a Wild West fantasy. And I’m not big on Westerns, per se, but this is very interesting.”

“All right, we have some beginner horses over here. Zell and Tony, and Rachel.”

“Rachel?”

“Yes. Rachel Green. That’s the horse’s name. She came with that name.”

She smiled. “Oh. From Friends.”

“Yes. That would be the reference.”

“Do you want to learn how to tack a horse up?”

That fire in her belly that ignited whenever something new came her way started to burn. “I would like to learn that.”

She spent the next fifteen minutes endlessly fascinated by the process of getting the horse ready to ride. “You think you could do it next time?”

She knit her brow together. “I do think so, yes.”

He chuckled. “After only watching once?”

“I have a great memory.”

“That brain of yours.”