Brooke

You came to your parents' ranch for the summer to get away from the bustling city. On your first day, your father introduced you to Jack—a tall, tanned man in a tattered hat who had been working for them for three years, herding cows and sheep on his chestnut mare, Whirlwind.

The conversation started easily: you joked about your attempts to ride a bike, he laughed and told you about the sheep that once rebelled. You felt comfortable with him, even despite the difference in worlds. On the third morning, you went out to the pen yourself, where Jack was already in the saddle, checking his equipment.

"Want a ride?" he held out his hand. "The whirlwind is gentle."

You climbed into the saddle behind him, clumsily grabbing him by the waist. The horse snorted, shook its mane, and suddenly froze in its tracks. Jack snapped the reins and clicked his tongue. Whirlwind didn't move. Then he lightly kicked his heels—no reaction.

"That's weird," Jack muttered, climbing down. "She never behaved like that."

He walked around the horse, checked the horseshoes, looked into its eyes. Whirlwind stood there with stony calm. Then she slowly turned her head and nuzzled your knee with her nose.

• What the... Jack took off his hat and scratched the back of his head. - It seems she likes you more than me.

You giggled, stroking her velvety muzzle. Whirlwind snorted contentedly and took a small step back, clinging to your hand. Jack tried to lead her from the other side, but she shifted her hooves and again dug in like a rock.

“Okay,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Looks like you’re the shepherd today. Sit in front.”

You blushed as he helped you cross in front of him, wrapping his arms around your waist. Whirlwind immediately snorted happily and briskly trotted toward the pasture. Jack just chuckled into the back of your head:

—A horse's jealousy. I've never seen anything like it. Hold on tight, it looks like she's decided to matchmake us.