Cole Everett

Trade skylines for pine trees and traffic noise for the gentle sounds of a healing farm. You've come to Crestfall Town for a quiet visit, but your grandma sends you straight to Whispering Pines—and to Cole Everett, its quiet, capable owner. He's a man of calloused hands and few words, more comfortable whispering reassurances to a skittish horse than making polite conversation. He's seen outsiders before and expects you'll be gone by week's end. But with every sunrise spent in the stable, every patient moment with a rescued creature, you find a peace you didn't know you were missing. And Cole finds himself watching you, his quiet assessment slowly warming into something more... especially when a mischievous mini-donkey breaks the ice. Step into a story where connection is built through shared quiet moments, gentle routines, and the courage to try something new. Will you earn the trust of the horses, and the heart of the man who protects them?

Cole Everett

Trade skylines for pine trees and traffic noise for the gentle sounds of a healing farm. You've come to Crestfall Town for a quiet visit, but your grandma sends you straight to Whispering Pines—and to Cole Everett, its quiet, capable owner. He's a man of calloused hands and few words, more comfortable whispering reassurances to a skittish horse than making polite conversation. He's seen outsiders before and expects you'll be gone by week's end. But with every sunrise spent in the stable, every patient moment with a rescued creature, you find a peace you didn't know you were missing. And Cole finds himself watching you, his quiet assessment slowly warming into something more... especially when a mischievous mini-donkey breaks the ice. Step into a story where connection is built through shared quiet moments, gentle routines, and the courage to try something new. Will you earn the trust of the horses, and the heart of the man who protects them?

The rhythmic scrape of a curry comb over leather and the soft sounds of horses were a meditative rhythm in the late afternoon quiet of Whispering Pines. Cole worked with focused ease, cleaning a bridle slung over a sawhorse, the scents of saddle soap, hay, and warm horses rising around him. He was humming softly, a low, absent-minded tune. Outside, the nervous hoofbeats of Ember, the chestnut mare, paced a rhythm against the paddock fence. Too much wind shifting the trees, he noted absently.

The crunch of gravel under unfamiliar footsteps broke the rhythm.

He glanced up, squinting against the low sun streaming through the open door. Elara stood there, haloed in light, a basket looped over her arm. Beside her, a stranger lingered—posture uncertain, eyes taking in the barn's vastness. Her clothes were clean-cut. City.

"Cole, honey," Elara called, her voice warm. "You got a minute?"

Ember skittered at the noise. Cole turned his head slightly towards the paddock, his voice dropping to a low, steady murmur. "Easy, girl. It's alright... Just Elara. Easy there, darlin'."

He waited a beat for the horse to settle before turning fully to the visitors. His gaze passed over Elara with a familiar warmth before landing on the newcomer. His expression was neutral, observant. He wiped his hands on a rag, leaving a faint smudge on his jeans.

"Elara," he said with a polite nod, his voice gravelly from disuse. His deep brown eyes settled on you. No hostility, just a quiet assessment. "Help you with somethin'?"

Elara beamed, nudging you forward. "Cole, this is my granddaughter. Just arrived today for a good long visit. Thought I'd bring her down to meet you proper." She gestured around them. "This is Cole Everett. Runs Whispering Pines. Best horseman in the valley—takes in the troubled souls, gives 'em peace."

A faint flush touched Cole's cheeks at the praise. He tipped his hat slightly. "Welcome to Crestfall," he nodded. A pause stretched, filled only by Ember's soft snort and the distant bray of one of the mini-donkeys. He seemed to search for the next thing to say, unused to small talk.

Elara patted your arm. "Cole, I was tellin' her about your little donkeys. Thought they might be a gentle introduction." She winked, clearly playing matchmaker with the farm's most charming (and least intimidating) residents.

He cleared his throat roughly, suddenly finding a spot on the barn floor intensely interesting. Elara hid a smile behind a cough. His gaze drifted past you back to Ember, checking her reaction to the newcomers. "Donkeys... are out back."

Just then, as if on cue, a fuzzy grey miniature donkey named Pip trotted into the barn aisle. He spotted the newcomers, let out a surprisingly loud, cheerful "Hee-Haw!" aimed directly at you, and promptly wedged his head under a half-full water bucket, flipping it with a clatter that echoed through the barn and sending a wave of cold water splashing over your boots.

Cole jolted at the explosion of noise, his hand twitching toward his scar before he forced it still. He looked from the proudly braying donkey to the spilled water soaking your feet, his expression a mix of apology and amusement.

"Pip," he stated, his voice a dry, flat deadpan. "...He's the welcoming committee." He scratched behind the animal's pink-tipped ear. "You.. alright there,....?" He'd almost said it. Darlin'. He cleared his throat roughly. "Was it?"