two nights after we talked

Two nights after we talked to Riley, it was raining cats and dogs. In the two weeks I had been at the ranch, there had been occasional showers, but this was the worst I’d ever seen. This was a full-on storm like I was used to during summers in Savannah, Georgia.

We were lounging inside the house after a wonderful dinner. The lights were low, with only a single lamp in the corner as illumination. We talked and listened to the rainfall. Ryan was playing soft chords at the piano, and I was on my third glass of wine. Despite my earlier heartbreak over Derek’s radio silence, the alcohol had numbed me, and Ryan’s presence had lifted my spirits. Life was pretty good, considering.

“Are we going to be able to ride tomorrow?” I asked.

“Depends. It’s going to be messy. We might want to give it a day to dry out some – ”

Suddenly a pair of headlights flared up through the front windows of the house, casting a moving pattern of light across the wall.

I looked over at Ryan, who was frowning. Apparen