Sleigh Bells and Stolen Hearts

First Impressions

Anna’s POV

The twilight breeze was cool against my skin as I lingered near the paddock, watching Bella and Duke lazily nip at each other in the fading light. Alex had just finished his work on the fence, and while I hated to admit it, I was impressed. He wasn’t just some city slicker playing cowboy for a day—he had actually put in the effort. I wasn’t sure what to make of him yet, but he was full of surprises.

I glanced toward the gravel driveway where his sleek black car sat waiting, the driver leaning casually against the hood. He had a cigar in his mouth. The contrast between the shiny vehicle and the dust-covered stables was almost comical. Alex had kept the poor guy waiting for hours, but he didn’t seem in any rush to leave.

“Do they have names?” Alex’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I turned to see him standing near the paddock gate, his tie loosened, and his sleeves rolled up. His hair was a little messy, his face flushed from a day in the sun. He looked different than when he first arrived—not polished and guarded, but relaxed.

“The horses?” I asked.

He nodded, gesturing toward Bella and Duke. “I saw you with them earlier. They seem... special.”

I crossed my arms, hiding a small smile. “The chestnut is Bella. She’s a softie but a little skittish. And the big one? That’s Duke. He’s stubborn, but he’s got a good heart. Just don’t try to rush him—he’ll dig his heels in every time.”

Alex chuckled, his eyes following the horses as they moved. “Duke reminds me of someone I know.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess—yourself?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a grin.

There was something disarming about the way he stood there, leaning casually against the gate, asking questions like he genuinely cared. It wasn’t what I expected from someone like him—a Carrington.

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” he said, straightening up. “I’d like to take a closer look at the rest of the property if that’s okay.”

I blinked, surprised. “You’re coming back?”

He nodded. “If you’ll have me.”

I hesitated, unsure of what to say. But before I could respond, the low rumble of a truck engine reached my ears. My head whipped around to see my father’s old Chevy pulling in through the eastern gate. The truck slowed near the freshly mended fence, and Dad leaned out the window, examining the work with a keen eye.

When the truck rolled to a stop, my father climbed out, moving with the deliberate care of a man who didn’t like to show weakness. His limp was subtle—just a slight hitch in his step—but I knew it well. Years of hard work and an old injury from his rodeo days had left their mark, though he’d never admit it.

He dusted off his worn jeans and straightened his hat, his sharp eyes flicking to Alex. “Evening,” he said, his tone neutral but guarded.

“Mr. Brooks,” Alex greeted, stepping forward with his hand outstretched. “Alex Carrington.”

Dad didn’t take the hand right away. Instead, he looked Alex up and down, his expression unreadable. Finally, he shook Alex’s hand, firm but brief. “Carrington, huh? I thought I recognized the name.”

Alex’s posture didn’t falter, but I caught the subtle shift in his stance—he was readying himself for whatever came next.

“I see you’ve been busy,” Dad continued, nodding toward the repaired section of the fence.

“Yes, sir,” Alex said. “It was a team effort, though. Anna was kind enough to show me the ropes.”

Dad’s gaze flicked to me, then back to Alex. “Not bad work,” he said, his tone still measured. “Better than I expected.”

“High praise,” I muttered under my breath.

Dad shot me a look, and I bit back a grin.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to see a Carrington out here fixing fences,” Dad said, crossing his arms. “Most folks like you don’t get their hands dirty.”

Alex met his gaze without flinching. “Most folks like me don’t know what they’re missing.”

For a moment, Dad didn’t respond. He just studied Alex, as if trying to decide whether to trust him. Finally, he gave a small nod. “Fair enough.”

The air between them was tense, but there was a quiet respect brewing there too. Dad didn’t give his approval easily, especially not to outsiders, but Alex had earned a sliver of it tonight.

As Dad moved to inspect the rest of the fence, I caught Alex watching him with a thoughtful expression.

“He’s not as tough as he looks,” I said quietly, though I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to defend him.

Alex glanced at me, his brow furrowed. “He seems like a good man.”

“He is,” I said firmly.

Dad returned a moment later, the horses seeing him as if on cue neighed. He brushed his hands off on his jeans. “Carrington, I don’t know what brings you to Brooks Stables, but let me give you some advice. This land, these horses... they’re not just business to us. They’re a way of life. If you’re here to buy us out or turn this place into some corporate project, you’re wasting your time.”

Alex held up his hands, his expression sincere. “I’m not here to buy anything, Mr. Brooks. I’m just here to learn.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed. “Learn what?”

Alex hesitated, just for a second. “About the land. The people who make it work. My father... he’s interested in sustainable agriculture, and he thought this would be a good place to start.”

Dad’s jaw tightened, and I could tell he wasn’t convinced. “Your father sent you here?”

“Yes,” Alex admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m here to make demands. I’m here to understand what makes this place special.”

For a long moment, Dad didn’t say anything. Then he gave a curt nod. “We’ll see about that.”

After Dad walked away, Alex turned to me, his expression unreadable. “He’s protective. I can respect that.”

I crossed my arms, studying him. “He has a right to be. A lot of people have tried to take advantage of us over the years. He’s not about to let that happen again.”

“I don’t blame him,” Alex said quietly.

Something about the way he said it made me pause. There was no arrogance in his tone, no defensiveness. Just honesty.

“You’re serious about coming back tomorrow?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

“I am,” he said, meeting my gaze. “And not just because of the business. There’s something about this place...” He trailed off, glancing toward the paddock. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I want to figure it out.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just nodded.

As he climbed into his car and the engine roared to life, I watched him drive away, the taillights disappearing into the night.

For the first time in years, someone from outside our world seemed to see the value in what we did—not just as a business, but as a way of life.

And for reasons I couldn’t explain, I found myself hoping he’d come back.