“I haven’t even met her yet. I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around her.”
“You’ll know what to do.”
“I feel like I don’t have the first clue. But I do know what to do here. Mount up.”
Chase came in while Jessica rode at a pretty canter around the ring. It lightened up his heart. Just looking at her did that—it seemed like years since he had—but seeing her ride, smiling with it, added an extra glow.
The past week had been like dragging through molasses. Everything dark and syrupy, just push through one step to the next, grab some sleep, start again.
Now the light was back for him.
Jessica slowed to a walk at Bodine’s instruction.
“You’ve got an audience,” Bodine said, grinning at Chase.
“I don’t want to get in the way.”
“If you were in the way, I’d boot you out. As it is, you can take over the lesson. It’s time the greenhorn here rode outside the ring.”
“Oh, but—”
“Nana said the second half of the hour to take you out. You can ride with her, can’t you, Chase?”
“Yeah, I can. I’ve got an hour.”
“Great. I’m going to ride back to the office then, hit that backlog.”
She rode straight out before anyone could stop her.
“She dumped me on you.”
Chase walked over, took the bridle. Took a moment to just look at her, with her sunny hair down and loose under her helmet, her eyes blue and clear. “It’s sure good to see you.”
“How are you?”
“I’m going to say a little tired, and more than a little mixed-up. Taking a ride with you, it’ll be good, help on both those fronts.”
“Then we’ll ride. I’m a little nervous about not having the ring, the walls.”
“I think you’re going to like being out in the air.” Still holding the bridle, he walked her horse over to his. “I’m sorry I haven’t—since we … I don’t want you to think—”
“That I took advantage of you, and you ran off?”
His head jerked up, his face stunned and not a little horrified.
“Chase, I know what your family’s going through. I didn’t think anything like that.”
“I’d hate if you did.” When he swung into the saddle, she noticed the purple irises poking out of his saddlebag.
“Are those flowers for me or my horse?”
He fumbled a little as he pulled them out. “I just wanted you to know … to make sure you know … I’m bad at this.”
“Not from where I’m sitting. They’re beautiful, and thank you. If you don’t mind, could you keep them for me while we ride? I don’t think I’m good enough to hold flowers and reins at the same time.”
“Sure.”
After he stuck them back in his saddlebag, she reached over, gripped his shirt. “I guess I have to take care of this myself again.”
She pulled him to her, felt a lift everywhere when his mouth met hers. When the mare shifted, she grabbed the saddle horn and laughed. “That’s the first time I’ve kissed anyone on horseback. Not bad for a novice.”
“Hold on a minute.” He took her reins to keep both horses steady, and pulled her in.
Reminding her, once she started his engine, he ran hot and smooth.
“That was even better,” she told him.
“I’ve missed you. It’s been a crazy few days, and it feels like weeks. I really missed you, Jessie. Maybe I could take you out tonight. Just out for dinner or something.”
“Don’t you have to be home? Your aunt.”
“They’re saying it’s best to take all that slow, not to throw everybody at her at once. I was going to make myself mostly scarce. We could have a date if you’re not busy with something.”
“We could. But here’s another better. You come over tonight, to my place. I’ll cook you dinner.”
“You’ll cook?”
“I like to cook. I’d like to cook for you. I’d like you to come to my place. I’d like you to spend some time in my bed.”
He smiled like he did everything. Slow. It always hit his eyes first. “I’d like all of that.”
“I’ll make something we can eat anytime, so you can get there when you can get there.”
“I’ve never known anybody like you.”
“That makes us even.” She glanced around, laughed. “I’ve been riding. I’ve been riding and didn’t even realize it.”
“It happens when you’re good and comfortable on a horse. You’ve got good form.”
She slanted him a look. “Do I?”
“In lots of ways. You want to try a trot?”
“All right.” She lifted her face first, looked at the sky, the mountains, felt the air that held just teases of spring. “I do like riding outside. All right, cowboy, show me the ropes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Alice trembled throughout the drive from the hospital—the room with the bed that moved up and down, the red Jell-O, the door that opened and closed without locks—to the ranch.
Vague pictures jumped in and out of her mind of a house with many, many windows instead of only one. Of a dog that didn’t growl and bite, of a room with bright pink walls and white curtains.
Far-off sounds in her ears. Voices calling—Alice, Alley Cat—Stop being such a brat! Eat some of those peas if you want ice cream.
The smell of … horses and cooking. A bathtub filled with bubbles.
It frightened her, all of it, made her heart beat too hard and fast even when the mother held her hand.
But more, everything went too fast. Everything. The car the sister drove while the grandmother … （Grammy, Grammy, such pretty red hair. I want red hair, too, a little girl’s voice said in her head, and laughter followed.）
The grandmother with the red hair sat in the front of the car. Alice sat in the back with the mother, holding tight to the mother’s hand because the car went so fast, and the world kept changing.
She longed for her quiet house, her still, quiet house. She wondered if this was just one of her dreams, the dreams she kept secret from Sir.
Sir. Would he be at this home place? Would he be there waiting for her, waiting to take her back to her quiet house?
Locks, locks on the door, the tiny window. Hard hands hitting, the belt whipping.
She lowered her head and shuddered.
“We’ll be there soon, baby.”
The woman doctor had said it was all right to be nervous, to even be scared. She hadn’t ridden in a car in a very long time, and everything would look new and different. When she got too nervous and scared, she could just close her eyes and think of something that made her happy.
Sitting outside her quiet house and watching the sunset made her happy. So she closed her eyes and pictured it.
But when the road went from smooth to bumpy, she cried out.
“It’s okay. We’re on the ranch road now.”
She didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see, but she couldn’t help it. She saw fields and trees, snow melting away under the sun. Cows—not rib-racked, but … cattle—she remembered the word. Big, healthy, cropping through the snowmelt to eat.