Текст книги "Never Say Never"

Автор книги: Emily Goodwin

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter 22

I lie in lush grass, the warm sun beating down on me. Aurelia wiggles around on my lap, pushing her head onto my shoulder. Once she gets comfortable, I fold my arms around her and close my eyes. Haley is working with Sundance. I can hear hooves pounding on dry dirt as she talks to him, giving him commands and praising him.

Out of all the exotic places I’ve been, places with white sandy beaches and crystal-clear waters, places full of bikini-clad women waiting on me hand and foot, places claiming to be paradise, nothing compared to this. The darkness has settled inside of me. It’s still there, I can feel it, but it’s gone dormant. I stifle a cough, not wanting to disturb the little foal sleeping on me, and close my eyes.

I’m almost asleep when my phone rings. Aurelia startles but doesn’t get up. She huddles closer to me, wanting me to protect her.

“Shhh,” I soothe, and silence the call. It’s my manager, and he’ll leave a message if it’s important. Seeing his name pop up reminds me that this isn’t really my life. I’ll have to leave eventually and go back to the hustle and bustle that is my life. I don’t want to, and thinking of the way I used to live makes me a bit ashamed.

A minute passes before my phone alerts me to a message. Ah, fuck. He’s left a long message. I sigh and unlock the phone, not wanting to hear what he’s got scheduled for me but knowing that putting it off won’t solve anything either.

I have promo appearances for Shadowland scheduled to start next month, a reminder about panels at San Diego Comic-Con later this month, a radio show I can record via Skype in my hotel room, and another talk show scheduled for this week. I groan and hang up, not deleting the message yet. So much for spending the whole week resting with Haley.

I pet Aurelia, her soft fur warmed by the sun. I actually like doing talk shows—once I get over my nerves. They turn out to be fun and are pretty easy. Plus, I look good to fans, which is important to me. Image is everything, they say.

I have to leave Thursday afternoon to be in Burbank in time for filming the talk show. I could stay in California for the rest of the weekend, not having to be back here for work until Monday. That isn’t happening. I don’t want to be away from Haley longer than I have to, and I wish she could come with me. It’s not that easy, I know. She has a job, and most of all, the horses.

Aurelia gets up after a while and wants to play. I chase her around until I can’t stop coughing, then go into the barn to see the two injured horses. The big gray guy nickers softly, pressing his nose against the bars of the stall.

“Hey there,” I say, petting him. I haven’t looked at his leg yet. I cast my eyes downward, hesitating. He’s up, though limping, so it can’t be that bad. I move closer and look. The fur has been shaved away, and dark stitches weave around his pink skin. It’s sickening to know someone did that to him. I shake my head.

It’s odd, how being in this small town has pulled my head out of my arse. I’ve lived out of touch with reality, taking everything for granted. Sometimes I forget I’m only human. I’m not immune to the bullshit that goes on around me; I just choose to ignore it.

I let out a breath and move to Phoenix’s stall. She’s standing in the back, head hanging in front of her. Can horses be depressed?

“I know how you feel,” I say softly, unlocking her door. I slide it open half a foot and sneak in, closing it behind me. “You have someone who cares about you,” I tell her, and I’m reminded that Haley feels guilty for not being able to spend much time with the horse.

I lean against the door and see a pile of uneaten hay on the ground. I grab a handful and go to her, grimacing when I see the burns along the right side of her body. The scene plays out before me: Haley and her mom trapped inside a burning barn. The heat, the smoke, the flames inching closer and closer. I can’t think of anything more terrifying. And then somehow Haley gets out, looks back, and her mom isn’t there. Or at least that’s how I imagine it.

“Are you hungry?” I ask Phoenix as I hold out the hay.

She flicks her ears to me and sniffs the hay. I hold out my other hand and gently touch her black fur. She doesn’t move.

“You’re lucky,” I tell her. “Lucky you made it out and lucky you’re here.”

She sighs, and I continue to pet her. Her head comes up, and she takes the hay from my hand. I grab another handful and take it to her, going back for more each time she eats it.

“Want more?” I ask. “There’s a ton over here.”

I lean against the stall, pressing a hand over my chest as I cough and roll my eyes at myself. It’s so annoying to be sick. Phoenix tentatively takes a small step. Hey, progress is progress, right? I stand there, thinking this is what Haley would do, and hold out a handful of hay. Finally, she turns and takes it.

“Good girl,” I praise. “Look, there’s more.”

She lowers her head and slowly nibbles at it. The gate to the round pen opens, rusty hinges squeaking. I look out and watch Haley bring Sundance in. She walks right past me and stops, doing a double-take.

“Phoenix is eating?” she asks me, her green eyes going wide.

“I think so,” I say, looking at the horse sifting through her hay. “It took a little convincing.”

The smile on Haley’s face is worth taking all the time in the world to get this horse to eat. She is so beautiful. She puts Sundance in his stall and rushes over, sneaking into the stall. Her arms slip around me and I kiss the top of her head. She smells like fresh air and sunshine.

“How did you do it?” she whispers.

I shrug. “I did what I thought you’d do,” I confess. “I brought her handfuls at a time until she turned and came over to finish the rest, and it worked.” Her smile widens, and it’s one of the few times since we’ve met that she actually looks happy.

“How did Sundance do?” I ask.

“Okay,” she says. “Alexis, that girl who came with us Friday, is going start coming over to help out. My mom used to give her lessons, so she’s familiar with these guys. With the extra help, he might be able to start looking for a home in a month or so.”

She rests her head against me, and I know she’s tired. She got up at six thirty. I heard her alarm go off and her groaning as she pulled back the covers.

“How do you find them homes?”

“The Internet is really helpful,” she says. “But my mom was always super strict with who they went to. She looked at where they’d keep the horse, what vet they’d use, and required two letters of recommendation.”

“That’s intense.”

“It is. She really cared about the horses. She’d keep them here as long as it took, though it never seemed to take that long. It’s kinda lame, but I always felt like something up there was finding the matches, rewarding her for her kindness.”

“That’s not lame,” I say, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You might be right. There aren’t a lot of kind people in this world. I hope they are rewarded.”

“My mom was one of them, and not just with the horses. She’d help anything and anyone. It didn’t matter. If you needed something, my mom was there.” She closes her eyes, and I can feel her hurt. I run my hand down her back.

“You’re kind too. One of the kindest I’ve ever met.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Nah. I just like horses more than people.”

I laugh and look at Phoenix, trying to see the beauty behind the fear and the scars. “Do you ever wonder why people are cruel?” I have, quite often. And not just people, but the world. When the darkness takes over, I struggle to see the point of living in the world.

“We live in a world where people mistake kindness for weakness, and nobody wants to be weak,” she says slowly. “I think people confuse courage with cruelty sometimes, but they couldn’t be more wrong. It takes courage to be kind, to do what should be done. Standing up for yourself, doing what’s best for you…where do you draw the line? At the expense of others?” She shakes her head and lets out a breath. “Being kind doesn’t mean you get walked over. It means doing the right thing, not the easy thing. It’s having mercy and wanting to contribute to a world that’s larger than yourself.”

Her words awaken something inside of me that tingles uncomfortably: the truth. I’ve done what was easy, what made me look and feel good in that moment. I’ve put others down, taken advantage of anyone I could, and used my fame to get my way. That’s what I’m supposed to do, right? How could it be wrong if it was expected?

“Ready to ride?” she asks, taking a step back.

“As long as you are.”

“I am,” she says. “I’m going to run inside and pee first, and grab us water bottles and food.”

“That’s a good idea,” I tell her as I follow her out of the stall. She eyes Phoenix one more time, a slight smile still on her lips. I change while she uses the bathroom, putting on jeans, a baseball cap, and sunglasses. When I go back downstairs, Haley is on the back porch, calling Chrissy inside.

“It’s too hot for you,” she tells the dog. I love how she talks to animals like they are people and can understand. “Stay in here where it’s cool and I’ll let you out later, okay?” She gives the dog a treat before we go into the pasture to bring in the horses.

A short while later, they are saddled up. She holds Benny’s reins as I get on. He doesn’t stand still like the well-trained horses I ride on set.

“He’s an asshole,” she says as she effortlessly gets on Shakespeare. He stands perfectly still. I watch her sink into the saddle and relax instantly. It’s been a long time sine she’s ridden, but it looks so natural for her. The worn leather of the reins slides through her fingers, and her feet slip into the stirrups. Her shoulders go back and she smiles, tilting her head to the sun. “Don’t be afraid to be assertive with him.”

“Thanks for making me ride the arse,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

Haley laughs. “If he’s too bad, we’ll switch. He’s good on trails though, and he’ll pretty much just follow Shakespeare anywhere.”

She cues the white horse forward, and Benny falls in step behind him, just like she says. I didn’t have to do anything. I’m a little relieved since I had problems with a well-trained horse like Rusty. We ride down the driveway and cross the street, going along an overgrown path that leads to woods. Haley slows Shakespeare to a stop.

“Do you see that barn?” she asks, pointing across a weedy field that’s encased by trees.

I lean forward, one hand on the saddle horn, and squint. “I think so. I see something.”

“That barn and the land has been for sale for years. It’s way overpriced, but my mom wanted to buy it and expand the farm. She wanted to take in more rescues.”

“Sounds like she was an amazing person,” I say.

“She was.” Haley takes a breath and runs her fingers through Shakespeare’s mane. “The barn is full right now. Sundance shouldn’t be there, or he should at least be in the process of finding a home, but, well, you know. Having another barn for more rescues would be nice.”

“Isn’t it a little far from your house?” I ask.

“It’s not that bad, really. My mom had the crazy idea of making it a legit non-profit organization with workers, and running clinics on behavior problems. It would be open to the public, so she didn’t want it that close to the house.” Haley smiles and shakes her head. “I want to buy it, even though I can’t manage the one barn I have. But I want to for her, ya know? Maybe someday.”

She cues Shakespeare forward and turns around, and sunlight sparkles in her eyes. “How good of a rider are you? You said you’re, uh, a beginner, right?”

I laugh. “That’s a nice way of putting it. I think I’m okay, but the horses I ride are always very well trained with their handler nearby. I get constant cues and help,” I admit. It’s not like this, even though you’d never guess by watching someone riding a horse on TV or in a movie. Someone is nearby at all times. I’m never just out in the open.

I’m never free like this.

She pushes Shakespeare into a trot and circles around. “Put your arms down,” she says. “If Benny bolts and you need to pull the reins back, you’re going to run out of room when your hands hit your chest. Think of it like a “V” with the reins. It gives you much more control.” I nod and lower my hands. She slows next to me. “And push your heels down. Actually, bring your whole leg back and sit deeper in the saddle. Like this.” She pitches forward then slowly rolls her hips into place. “And when you want him to stop or slow down, ask with your seat first.”

“Come again?”

“Here, watch Shakespeare.” She loosens her reins and asks him forward. She shifts her weight, sitting on the back pockets of her jeans, and the horse stops. “He’s very responsive. Benny isn’t. He’s an ex-racer and was trained to have someone pulling on his mouth. But sitting deep helps. He knows what you’re asking.”

“And they can feel all this through the saddle?”

“Oh yeah. Horses are incredibly sensitive creatures. Shakespeare is calmer and easier to ride than Benny, but you have to be aware of everything with him. Just brushing your legs against his sides can make him go forward. You have to really communicate with him what you want.”

“I’m starting to think I’m clueless about horses.”

“Not totally. You’re doing really well. I’m kind of nit-picking. It’s hard not to do.” She smiles and trots around us again. “And I do like a man who can ride.”

“And I like a woman who can handle sixteen hands between her legs.”

She laughs. “Shakespeare isn’t that tall.” Benny speeds up, following them. “Do you know how to post?” she asks, looking over her shoulder. My blank stare lets her know I have no idea what she’s talking about. She gives me a short lesson about rising in the saddle to keep myself from bouncing uncontrollably (it’s much more comfortable this way) and we take off again, trotting down the path and slowing to a walk when we get to the woods.

Haley takes a deep breath and looks up at the patchy sun shining through dense leaves. “I don’t know why I waited so long to ride again. Thank you, Aiden. Thank you for everything.”

I walk Benny up next to her and reach for her hand. She links her fingers through mine and has Shakespeare stop, leaning toward me. My leg bumps into hers and Benny takes a bite at Shakespeare. So much for a kiss.

“Benny!” she says. “Be nice!”

“He really is an arse.” I laugh and give a little tug on the reins, keeping him in check.

“He is. Come on,” she says, and she pushes Shakespeare into a canter. “There’s something I want to show you.”

We run through the woods, the wind blowing against us. It’s exhilarating, freeing, and I finally see why people love horses so fucking much. For the first time, I get it. Hooves pound beneath me in time with my pulse. I have just enough control to not be afraid, but I know that I’m at Benny’s mercy. I’m trusting this thousand-pound animal with my life, and it makes me feel so alive.

We burst through the woods into a sunny field. We’ve been riding for nearly an hour already, and we’ve been pacing the horses going back and forth from running to walking. We go another few miles before Haley stops at the bottom of a small hill. She puts a finger to her lips and moves forward. Benny follows and climbs the hill. When we get to the top, my breath catches.

We are on the top of a plateau, overlooking a valley. We are on the top of the world, and only Haley and I exist. Slowly, she and Shakespeare move to the edge of the cliffside. She stands up in the saddle and looks down. Then she turns and waves me over.

I can trust Benny not to take a nose-dive, right? He plods over, stopping next to Shakespeare. I follow Haley’s gaze to the valley. A small herd of wild horses grazes below us. A chill runs through me, the beauty of everything unable to compete with the hot sun. My first thought is to get my phone and capture this moment so I can share it on social media.

But I don’t.

Sitting on the back of a horse, next to the woman I love, looking a hundred feet down on a herd of Mustangs suddenly feels intimate. It’s just us, and I want it to stay that way. We sit peacefully next to each other, and Benny is too distracted watching the Mustangs to nip at Shakespeare. Haley sidesteps her horse closer, and I take her hand.

She exhales, and I know she feels at peace like I do.

“I could stay here all day,” I whisper.

“I have before,” she says, and she lets go of my hand, picking up the reins. “There’s this little spot by a creek I’d go to when I wanted to get away from everything.”

“I’d be there all the time. Can we go?”

She nods and turns Shakespeare around. I take one last look at the Mustangs. Things like this don’t exist in real life. The world isn’t really this beautiful, yet here it is, right in front of me. And with Haley in it, it’s perfect.

We backtrack down the hill and through the woods, turning onto a deer path I hadn’t noticed before. I hear the gentle babble of the stream before we get to it. Haley dismounts and unbridles Shakespeare, clipping a lead rope to his bridle. She has me hold him as she pulls stuff out of her saddlebag and creates a picket line between two trees and clips two coiled red ropes to them.

“What is that?” I ask her and get off Benny.

“It’s the ropes to tie them up with,” she says, stretching one of the coils. “They curl back up like this when they’re not pulled straight, which keeps the horses from stepping on them.”

“Interesting.”

She smiles. “We got these at a horse convention. I was more excited than I should have been over a rope.”

“You were that weird horse girl in school, weren’t you?”

She flicks her eyes to me and walks around Shakespeare, taking more things out of the saddlebag. “I still am that weird horse girl.”

She opens a collapsible water bucket, fills it from the stream, then sets it down near the picket line. I lead the horses over and help her take off their tack and get them tied up.

“You have a lot of stuff packed,” I say when she pulls a sheet from another compartment in the saddlebag.

“Oh, this is nothing,” she says with a smile. “There’s food and water in your bag.”

She spreads the sheet in tall green grass and lies down, stretching her arms over her head. I join her, dropping two water bottles and a bag of trail mix next to us. As soon as my body hits the ground, I’m reaching for her, sliding her underneath me, and my lips press to her.

She wraps her arms around me, pushes me between her legs, and takes off my hat, running her fingers through my messy hair. I slip my tongue into her mouth, craving to be inside of her.

“Are we in a secluded spot?” I ask softly.

She bites her lip and rakes her fingers along my back. Fuck it. I don’t care if we’re off a well-beaten path.

“Secluded enough,” she whispers, her hands traveling down to my waist. “How do you do it?”

I press my lips to her neck. “Do what?”

“Turn me on with just one kiss.”

I grin and grow hard, my cock pressing against the seam of my jeans. I don’t answer, I just kiss her again.

“Can we stay here forever?” she asks, settling into my arms after we put our clothes back on.

My heart is still pounding against my chest. “Just like this.”

She runs her fingers through my hair. I close my eyes and hold her tight, scared if I let go I will wake up and realize this is just a dream.

“Are you going to cut your hair once Shadowland is over?” she asks lazily.

“Probably,” I say. “It’s bloody annoying as hell. I never had it long before the show.”

“Oh,” she says. “I like it like this.”

“It’s shorter than it is for the show. I cut it as soon as we wrap up a season. It’ll be long enough by the time filming starts.”

“That’s interesting. All of it’s interesting to me. I know what you do, but not really.”

“It’s probably not as fascinating as you’d think. Though I do love it dearly.”

“I can tell. You’re really good at acting.”

“Thanks.”

“Really. I totally cried at the end of last season of Shadowland. And I was upset for days not knowing what happens to Gavin.”

I chuckled. “I don’t know yet either.” She pushes up on her elbow, raising an eyebrow incredulously. “I promise I’m not feeding you a standard bullshit line either. I won’t know until I get the script. I’m signed on for the next season, so I know he doesn’t die at least. Or if he does, he still gets screen time somehow.”

“I had no idea. I thought you knew everything about the whole series.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“That seems frustrating.”

I run my fingers over the curve of her hip. “It kind of is, more so on a show like that where the main characters get killed off with no warning. Everyone is scared when we get the scripts.”

It’s nice talking about work like this, in such a relaxed and real manner. It’s something I don’t get to do, unless I’m venting to Claire about a shitty day. Clouds roll over the sun and the breeze picks up. I hold on to Haley a little tighter. We keep talking, lying in each other’s arms for a while, and then sit up and eat.

“How did you find this place?” I ask her.

She pulls a grape from the vine. “By accident. Shakespeare and I got lost. I assumed he’d find his way back home, but he found his way to the water for a drink first. You don’t get cell service out here,” she adds. “I couldn’t call my mom and tell her I was lost. When we finally got home, there were two sheriff cars in the driveway, ready to send out a search and rescue. I was only fourteen at the time. I felt so bad.”

“Was your mum pissed?”

“Not until the next day. She got me a this GPS tracker to take with me when I went out by myself after that though.” Haley slides her hand along my abs.

“Cold?”

“No,” I say, and I realize the temperature has dropped. So has the sun. “Are you?”

“A little. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late,” she says and groans. “We should get back before it gets dark. The trails aren’t safe at night.”