by Joyce Alec
He never spoke to her about whatever it was that was troubling him, though something within her wanted to know. Was it just that he didn’t like her refusal to do as he asked? Or was there something deeper going on?
Shaking her head to herself, Hazel leaned on the corral fence and murmured gently to the beautiful, shy mare whom she’d named Daisy. Apparently, Stephen had wanted very little to do with the creature, since he’d never been able to get much out of her, and so he’d allowed Hazel to give her a name. He’d rolled his eyes at her choice, but she’d ignored him, feeling a connection with the animal that she couldn’t express. Remembering a day last week when she’d watched as Stephen rode the mare, becoming aware of just how hard he’d been pulling at her mouth. She ran a troubled eye over the horse’s mouth and nose, hoping there was no injury there.
“You just need a gentle hand, don’t you?” she whispered, laughing as the mare nickered and sniffed at her hand, evidently looking for some sugar.
“Don’t you go spoiling her now.”
It took everything in Hazel’s power not to roll her eyes, hating that Stephen could be so harsh with his horses. “I’ll spoil her if I like, Stephen, since it’s clear she doesn’t respond to anger.” She shot him a pointed look, trying not to notice just how handsome he looked against the pink and orange horizon.
His green eyes filled with irritation as he frowned, looking from her to the mare. “You really think my ways don’t work?”
“I know they don’t,” Hazel replied truthfully. “Do you really think you can get a creature like this to do what you want if you’re forceful enough?” She lifted her eyebrows, rather aware that she was speaking to him of more than just the horse. He seemed to notice it, too, since he looked away from her almost at once, turning himself to face the corral a little more.
“It’s always worked before,” he muttered, not looking at her. “I don’t see why this one should be any different.”
Hazel paused for a moment, considering what she was going to say. Stephen didn’t like her blunt ways and responded rather badly to them. So, out of consideration for him, she was trying to think before she spoke, making sure not to appear overbearing.
“You haven’t broken that many horses here, have you?” she asked, hoping her tone didn’t sound condescending. “I think you said only two others?”
“Three before this one,” he said, leaning his chin on his arms as they rested on the fence post. “They were all easy.”
“Well, this one is afraid of you,” Hazel said pointedly. “She’s a gentle creature with a free spirit. She needs understanding, not someone trying to force her to bend to his will.”
He snorted but didn’t immediately contradict her. “You think you can do better?”
Not afraid of a challenge, Hazel lifted her chin and grinned at him. “Saddle her up, cowboy. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Color shot up his neck and into his face, his eyes fixed on hers as she laughed, as though her teasing tone had caught him entirely off guard. Hazel couldn’t help but laugh as he stumbled away from her, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. Was it because he had been expecting her to refuse? He should know her better by now.
Something warm curled in her stomach as she watched him carry things out one at a time. He was strong and purposeful in his movements, hefting the saddle onto the mare’s back with ease. The mare stood calmly as Hazel held the bridle, as though she knew it would be Hazel on her back today, not Stephen.
“Ready?”
She smiled and stepped forward, putting one foot into his hands. He helped her up and, with a quick push, she was settling into the saddle.
“Are you sure about this now, Hazel?” he asked, as she adjusted her seat. “I mean, I didn’t have a lot of luck.”
Ignoring his concerns, she looked down at him, already feeling quite at peace on Daisy’s back. “How abouts we go for a ride?”
He frowned. “Now? It’s late. I thought we’d be turning in soon.”
“Yes, but tomorrow is Sunday,” she reminded him, with a quick smile. “That means no going out to the pastures, no chores, no nothing.”
“Except the service.”
A little frustrated, Hazel bit back her sharp reply. “Yes, there is the service, but my point is that we don’t need to worry so much about retiring. Don’t you want to come riding with me?”
She held her breath, as he looked up at her, frowning a little. She’d been trying to reach out to him a little more, but so far he’d refused her at every turn. It was as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to change, couldn’t quite manage to do things her way. Whilst she knew he didn’t want any kind of affection and certainly nothing like love between them, that didn’t mean that they couldn’t have a friendship, right? But friendship meant that they would have to spend time together—instead of simply living together in the same house but hardly saying a word to each other in the evenings. She wanted more than just the silence he was apparently so used to.
“I think I’d best turn in.”
Her shoulders slumped, but she lifted her chin and tried to smile, pretending it didn’t matter to her. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later.”
“You’re not going out there on your own?”
She laughed and nudged Daisy into a trot, making her way to the gate of the corral which, thankfully, he’d left open when he’d gone to get the things from the stable. “Stephen, I’ve been out riding here plenty times. I’ll be just fine.”
“Hazel, I’m not happy about this.”
She shrugged, looking back at him. “Then I guess you’d better get your own horse saddled.”
Not waiting to hear another word from him, Hazel dug her heels in and set off in a gallop, keeping her head low as Daisy did exactly what Hazel asked. The mare responded beautifully to everything Hazel did, and it was a good few minutes before Hazel pulled the reins and brought her back to a walk.
“My goodness,” she breathed, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. “Daisy, you are a dream to ride.”
The sound of thundering hooves came from behind her, and twisting around in her seat, Hazel saw none other than her husband coming after her, his own horse in a full gallop. Daisy snorted nervously, but Hazel patted her neck with a calm hand, settling her back down.
A burst of warmth in her heart had her smiling broadly as Stephen reined his horse in, unable to stop herself from grinning at him.
“I see you came.”
“I had no choice,” he muttered, glowering at her. “I have a stubborn wife, who won’t do what she’s asked.”
“You can’t still be thinking I’m ever going to be the wife you hoped for,” Hazel replied lightly, despite the slicing pain in her heart. “I thought you knew that wouldn’t ever be the case.”
Something lifted in his expression, removing the frown from his face. “I guess I have accepted it,” he said, with a small smile that only just reached his eyes. “How did you find Daisy?”
Hazel stroked the horse’s neck and sighed happily. “She’s wonderful to ride. It’s like she knows what I’m going to ask for before I actually do anything.”
Stephen sighed and shook his head, a look of frustration on his face. “That’s more than I ever got her to do.”
“Gentleness and understanding,” Hazel reminded him, nudging Daisy into a walk. “Not sheer brute strength. She doesn’t understand that.”
They rode for a short time in silence, but Hazel felt as though her heart was about to burst. This was the first time Stephen had ever agreed to do something she’d suggested, the first time he’d stepped away from his regimented routine and had followed her. She hadn’t expected that to bring her so much joy, but the happiness in her heart could not be denied. The horizon lay before them, the reds and pinks and oranges lighting up the plains. Closing her eyes, Hazel smiled softly to herself, letting go of the reins and stretching her arms out wide. Finally, she felt as though she belonged.
“Careful!”
Stephen caught her hand, giving her a slight shove back towards the front of her horse.
“Pick up those reins.”
Hazel laughed and shook her head. “Why? Daisy is just fine, and I trust her not to run off just because she pleases it.”
He frowned, his lips in a thin line. “It would make me feel better if you picked them up.”
Hazel was about to refuse, but then she saw the concern in his expression. He really was worried about her, and much to her surprise, she wanted to relieve that worry even if it meant doing something she didn’t particularly want to do.
“I’ve got them,” she murmured, picking them up as she held his gaze. “I’m quite safe, Stephen.”
She watched, as he took a long breath, clearly a little relieved. She needed to remember just how much it had taken for him to come out here with her. Now wasn’t the time to tease him and try to push him further.
“Do you mind if we head on back?” he asked, turning his horse around. “It’ll be getting dark soon, and I would like to have the horses safe in the barn by then.”
Hazel nodded, seeing the surprise on his face as she did as he asked without question. How much she wanted to explain to him that she wasn’t just being difficult for the sake of it, that she needed the freedom to make her own decisions when he wasn’t around. However, at times like these, she was happy to do as he asked. It seemed an almost impossible concept to explain, and as they rode back home, Hazel found that she just didn’t have the words to even begin.
Once back at the ranch, Hazel waited for Stephen to help her down from the horse, her mouth going dry as she realized she was going to have to lean down into his arms. All the other times she’d ridden alone, she’d used the mounting block in the stables, or even a bale of hay, to get on and off the horse. Out in the corral, she had no other choice but to lean into his arms.
He looked up at her, his gaze fixed. Something softened in his expression as he saw her hesitate, an understanding that she was worried about something.
Hazel couldn’t put it into words. How could she explain to him what had happened with Christopher? How could she tell him that, even though she’d forgotten Christopher, her heart still slammed violently into her chest whenever Stephen got too near?
“Come on, Hazel,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to drop you.”
She tried to laugh, a choking sound escaping from her throat. “I never even thought of that,” she managed to say, her tongue like sandpaper as she leaned down, swinging one leg over the saddle.
The movement seemed to surprise Daisy, who jumped and danced a few steps, which meant that Hazel practically fell out of the saddle. Stephen caught her at once, holding her tightly as he lowered her to the ground.
Hazel couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. His hands were still on her waist, holding her there so gently, without any of the strength she’d seen earlier. She could step away if she wanted and he’d let her go; she knew he’d let her go.
So why wasn’t she moving?
The last rays of sunlight hit his face, his features highlighted with gold. Hazel felt her breath catch as she stood there, simply taking him in. There was no frown on his face, no anger, no frustration. Those lines had disappeared, and in their place, was a questioning look, as though he didn’t quite understand all that was going on. It was an expression she was sure she mirrored, her eyes widening as he began to lower his head.
They had fought like cat and dog. Now, here they were, standing in the middle of the corral, and he was about to kiss her. Hazel didn’t move, didn’t struggle, didn’t run. Instead, she just closed her eyes and waited, trying to sort out all her conflicted feelings. Part of her screamed at her to run, remembering the last time she’d been kissed, whilst the other part told her to stay, to wait to see what he would do. Maybe this was a way for her to forget what Christopher had done, a way to replace those terrible memories with new ones.
He is not like Christopher, she repeated to herself over and over again. Stephen is not like Christopher.
The kiss never came. Instead, Hazel felt his hands drop from her waist and felt the loss of his presence as he stood back. As he cleared his throat, she opened her eyes and looked at him, feeling something like embarrassment crawl all through her. Had she misjudged things? Had she misjudged him?
“I think you’d better keep Daisy,” he said gruffly, pulling off his hat and running one hand through his hair. “She isn’t for me, that’s for sure.”
Hazel blinked, hardly able to believe what she’d heard. “You’re giving me a horse?”
He shrugged and looked away, one boot scuffing in the dust. “Sure, I mean…if you want her.”
Without knowing what she was doing, Hazel threw herself at him, her arms going around his neck. She could hardly believe that he was giving her something so precious, something that would be all her own.
“Thank you, Stephen,” she breathed, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. “Thank you. I’ll take good care of her.”
He cleared his throat again and gave her a slightly self-conscious smile as she stepped back. “I know you will, Hazel. I’m not saying I like you riding off into town on your own, but I guess that’s been talked about once too often. At least you’ve got your own horse now, so you won’t be using mine.” His lips curved into a smile, his eyes twinkling at her. It was such a change in his expression, that for a moment, Hazel was robbed of speech, caught by the happiness she saw.
“I’ll rub the horses down,” he said, grasping Daisy’s bridle and clicking to his own horse. “Why don’t you head on in?”
Hazel nodded and smiled, the lump in her throat aching so much she could hardly speak. “I will. Thank you, Stephen.”
He smiled back at her before turning around and heading towards the barn, leaving her to walk back to the house on her own.
Once inside, Hazel closed the door and leaned back against it, feeling as though she might burst from happiness. Finally, after all her attempts, Stephen had finally done something she’d asked of him. He’d come out on a ride with her when she knew he wanted to stick to his usual routine and head on in. It might not have been a lot, but it meant a great deal to Hazel. Now, he’d given her one of his horses to use as her very own! It was a kindness she hadn’t expected from him. The gesture took her breath away, her heart swelling with gladness.
“There’s more to him than I think even he knows,” she said to herself, heading on up the stairs. She just had to hope that what they’d started would carry on even more. She wanted to have a husband who smiled and laughed and talked with her, not a silent, stony-faced man who had nothing to say. Whatever it was that had been troubling him about her and their marriage, Hazel had to hope that he’d be able to move past it now and onto better things. On to a better future for them both.
But, as she got changed into her night things, a rather uncomfortable truth hit Hazel full on. If she wanted them to grow in their relationship, if she wanted them to have a solid friendship, then that meant she was going to have to start being honest with him. There were so many things she hadn’t told him about, not even much about her family or her childhood. She certainly hadn’t told him about Christopher, especially since she hadn’t wanted to even so much as think about him.
Would she have to be the one to take the first step, to be the one to open herself up and tell him about her past? How could they have a future together when he didn’t really know her at all? All he knew was that he didn’t like her way of living her life and didn’t understand that freedom she so desperately craved. Would he understand her better if she told him more? Would she be able to understand his reasons behind his need to have everything so determined?
Her mind filled with thoughts and questions, Hazel made her way to bed, aware that Stephen was moving through the house downstairs. It was a long time before she closed her eyes and even longer until she finally fell asleep.
14
Stephen looked at himself in the mirror,
making sure his hair was neatly combed. It had been a hard day out with the cattle, moving them a little further along the pastures, and he was tired. Having dragged himself into the house, he’d been ushered into the bedroom to clean up and change, and now here he was, running a comb through his hair.
He stopped, the comb dropping from his fingers. What was he doing? Why was he making such an effort for his wife? She didn’t care if he came to the table with hair that stuck up all over the place; she only cared that he wasn’t going to put dust and sand all over the table!
He reached to run his fingers through his hair, to prove that he didn’t need to make an effort for Hazel, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.
Closing his eyes, Stephen drew in a long breath. This week had been so different from the first few weeks of their marriage. Hazel had become easier to live with for some reason. He wasn’t as bothered by her riding into town, or her paddling in the creek on a hot day. She was willing to do what he asked sometimes, but other times pushed for what she wanted. That was just a part of her, he guessed, and so life had become a little easier.
Was it that she had changed, or had he just begun to accept the situation for what it was?
A frown crossed his brow as he considered things, his lips twisting. No, it had to be her. She’d been much more talkative of late, and he’d found that he wanted to listen. She’d told him all about her life back home, going into detail about how she’d felt about her parents moving to her brother-in-law’s ranch. When she’d described her hometown, he’d caught himself listening intently, hanging on to every word. The more she talked, the more he felt he knew her. She was like a rose, slowly coming into bloom right before his eyes. He began to appreciate her company.
