He kissed her lips then rolled to his side beside her. He did his best not to let her know how torn he was because if she had even an inkling, she’d be out of here in a heartbeat. He pulled her close, kissed the top of her head, and just held her while he fought his demons. Christ! Now what?
“Holt?”
He came back to the present and looked over his shoulder to see her standing there in his T-shirt then he looked back to the fireplace.
“What are you doing up, Sloane, it’s the middle of the night?”
“I reached for you and you were gone. Are you…all right?”
“Yes, of course.” He put his hand out to her over the back of the couch. “Come here.”
Sloane moved to the sofa, took his hand then sat down next to him. He pulled her close and rested his chin on the top of her head.
“Why are you out here?” she asked him.
“Hell, if I know.” He chuckled. “I just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”
How in the hell could he tell Sloane that he’d dreamed of Carolyn even as he realized that he was in love with her? He was smart enough to know you didn’t tell one woman you were dreaming of another, especially while she was sleeping in the same bed. Not if he wanted to keep his balls anyway. He hated lying to her but there was no way he could tell her the truth about why he was awake.
“I can feel you pulling away again,” she said.
“I’m not. Really. I just woke up, Sloane, and couldn’t get back to sleep.”
“Okay.” She pushed away from him, got to her feet, and put her hand out to him. “Come back to bed with me then. Since we’re both awake, maybe we can think of something to do.”
He grinned. “I’m sure we can.”
Holt got to his feet, picked her up, and tossed her over his shoulder then headed down the hallway. “By the way, did you bring those shoes again?”
He chuckled when she laughed.
****
Sunday afternoon brought sunshine and hot weather. Sloane smiled as she followed Holt through the barn. She loved the smell of sweet hay and horses.
“We’re not taking Buddy with us this time?”
“No, I’d rather not let him get used to going up in the pastures. He might take off up there and there are too many wolves around,” Holt said as he led her down the aisle.
“They’re so pretty but very dangerous.”
“Yeah, Preston had a hell of a time with them this past year, but he finally got them to leave his cattle alone.”
“Yes, Deidra told me. Buddy is better off here at home. I’m riding Skittles, right?”
Holt stopped, turned around, and pulled her to him then kissed her lips.
“You can ride me.”
“I already did this morning but I can again later. For now, am I riding her?”
“Sure. She likes you. Of course, what’s not to like?”
She laughed. “You’re just sucking up because you want to go back to bed when we get back.”
“Guilty. I mean, we were up so early, so we might need a nap.” He winked at her then took her hand and led her to the stall where Skittles was waiting.
“She is such a gorgeous horse,” she said as she stared in at the horse.
Skittles stuck her nose over the gate and whinnied at her. Sloane touched her velvety nose then rubbed her ears. The horse put her face against her chest, almost knocking her over. Holt caught her when she stumbled back.
“Thanks.” She looked up at him and her breath hitched.
She knew right then that she was in love with him. How does someone fall in love so fast? She never believed it could happen so fast but it had. What she felt for Holt was so much stronger than her feelings ever were for Doug, but she sensed a distance in Holt today and she didn’t know what was going through his mind. Was he thinking about Carolyn again? Was Carolyn always going to be there between them?
“I’ll get the tack.”
“All right. Do you need my help?”
“No, ma’am. I got it. Just talk to Skittles. I’m sure she knows she’s going for a ride.”
She watched him enter the tack room then she turned back to Skittles.
“Hey, pretty girl. Are you ready to go out?” She laughed when the horse tried to take her hat from her head.
Holt had bought her a straw cowboy hat and she loved it. She turned to watch him as he carried the blanket and saddle to the stall. He placed them on the gate then opened it and entered. She chuckled when he had to push Skittles back.
“I think she’s ready to go, aren’t you, girl?” He patted the horse’s neck.
Sloane watched him as he threw the blanket onto Skittles’ back then the saddle. He tightened the cinch and attached the reins.
“I’ll never learn how to do all that,” she said.
“Sure, you will. Nothing to it. Especially if you have a horse that wants to go riding.”
“What if you don’t?”
Holt chuckled. “Most of the time you find another horse. I used to have one that would make it difficult as hell to saddle but once he was ready, he loved going out. It was just getting that blanket and saddle on him. He’d reach back and take the blanket off, so you had to be quick to get that saddle on.”
“What happened to him? Did you sell him?”
“No. He had to be euthanized. He fell and broke his leg.” Holt shook his head.
“That’s so sad.”
“Yeah, I was riding him in the west pasture, and he stepped in a hole. Doctor Griffin came out to treat him, but the horse was in bad shape, so Sawyer did the best thing for him.” Leading Skittles out of the stall, Holt fastened the lead to a hook.
“Had you had the horse long?”
“He was fifteen and born and raised on this ranch.”
“I’m so sorry, Holt.”
He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
“But it still bothers you.”
He turned to look at her. “It was a week after Carolyn died so it was a little rough.”
She stepped closer to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and hugged him. His arms wrapped around her then he moved back from her and kissed her forehead.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated.
“Yeah, well, like I said, it was a long time ago. Let me get Nitro ready then we’ll head out.”
“All right.” Sloane watched as he reentered the tack room then came out with the saddle, blanket, and reins. She still felt something was bothering him but she didn’t know how to go about asking him. She was so afraid he was thinking about Carolyn again, and what was happening between them. Carolyn was gone and he needed to move on, but she also knew if she brought it up, an argument could ensue and she wasn’t going to get into one with him again about his late wife.
Huffing out a breath, she rubbed Skittles’ neck. She already loved this horse. She was so gentle that she didn’t worry about her trying to throw her like some horses do. Holt had told her, if you haven’t been thrown then you haven’t ridden, but she couldn’t imagine how hard that ground felt from being thrown from the back of a horse.
Holt led a saddled Nitro out of the stall. That horse was an amazing looking animal. Nitro was a tall horse and she just knew it looked like a long way down from that saddle.
“I can’t get over how gorgeous these saddles are.”
She rubbed her hand over the soft leather.
Holt fastened Nitro’s lead to a hook then walked to her.
“Let’s get you in that saddle, darlin’.”
“All right.” She put her foot in the stirrup, grabbed the saddle horn, and cantle then tried to pull herself up. As she bounced on her other foot, she felt Holt’s hand on her ass giving her a shove. Once she got into the saddle, she glared down at him.
“Did you just cop another feel, James?”
“I did. Is that a problem?” He grinned.
“No. No problem.” She laughed.
“I plan on copping a lot of feels later,” he sai
d with a wink.
Shaking her head, she watched as he sauntered to his horse, and vaulted into the saddle. Another thing she’d never be able to do. The first time they went riding, she couldn’t believe it when they’d rode back into the barn and he’d gotten out of the saddle before the horse even stopped moving. She could just picture herself trying to do that, her foot would get caught in the stirrup and she’d be dragged to her death. With a shudder at the thought, she waited for Holt to lead the way then she kneed Skittles and the horse followed behind Nitro.
They rode out of the barn and she raised her face to the sun. It was in the mid-eighties. She glanced over to Holt as she rode beside him. He was the total cowboy with his straw cowboy hat sitting low on his forehead. He held the reins in one hand and the other one lay comfortably on his thigh. He looked like he’d been born to ride.
“How many times have you been thrown?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Too many times to count. When I used to break horses, I hit the ground quite a bit but I’ve also been thrown while out riding.”
“I can’t imagine how much that hurts.”
“Oh, you have no idea. My dad used to tell me I was going to break my neck one day. Luckily, that never happened. You’re safe on Skittles unless something scares her.”
“What would scare her?”
“Mouse, snake, a loud noise.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. She’s a truly calm horse. Not much gets to her. Trick trained her well.”
“He must be good at it.” It is like pulling teeth to get him to talk.
“He is the best horse whisperer you’ll ever meet. Not too many can get a horse trained as well as he can. Ash Beckett is good too, but even he admits he’s not as good as Trick. Ash quit doing it once his feed business took off.”
“Trick must stay busy then.”
“He has people on waiting lists. I’ve seen that man get a horse to follow him in a corral in less than an hour. He’s that good. There’s a man in Wyoming, Lincoln Cole, who’s like that too.”
“I see.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. Holt seemed a million miles away and she didn’t know how to get him to talk to her. Maybe once they got back.
Mentally shaking her head, she knew she hated to bring it up, but something was going on with him. Call it woman’s intuition but she didn’t believe he left their bed so early this morning just because he woke up. Oh, she was sure something woke him, but he didn’t just wake up and go to the living room. She dreaded asking him, but she’d do it when they got back. She needed to know.
“I have a lot of cupcakes to bake in the morning,” she said for lack of anything else to say.
“I love those cupcakes.”
“It’s for a first-grade class in Hartland. It’s a little girl’s birthday, and the teacher always has cupcakes on their birthdays is what she told me when she called the bakery.”
“That’s nice,” he murmured.
Sloane wanted to slap him upside his head and make him tell her what was going through it. Something was bothering him, and she hated that he was holding it back from her. She tugged on the reins to stop Skittles, and Holt reined Nitro to a stop and looked at her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You tell me.”
“Huh? Nothing’s wrong. Why?”
“Why? Because ever since last night you’ve been distant with me and I want to know why. I swear to God, Holt, if you’re going through again what happened after the first time we were together, I need to know,” she snapped.
He blew out a breath. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to say you’re not thinking about your wife again.”
“I think about my wife every damn day,” he snarled.
“Well, that certainly puts me in my place, doesn’t it? I can’t compete with her, Holt, and I’m not going to try. This isn’t going to work if you can’t move on.”
Sloane pulled on the reins and headed back to the barn. Tears blurred her eyes, but she was done.
****
Holt watched her go then followed behind her. Damn it. He should have known she’d know something was up. Women and their damn intuition. He kneed Nitro into a run and rode him fast into the barn. Sloane was walking toward him but stopped to stare up at him.
“I handed Skittles over to Richie. I’ll pack then you can take me home,” she said then walked past him and out of the barn.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.
Once again, he’d fucked up. He didn’t know how to explain about last night. How could he tell Sloane he’d dreamed of Carolyn while she was sleeping beside him? He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. Shit. He dismounted then waved Richie over.
“Take care of Nitro for me once you get Skittles cooled down, please.”
“Sure thing, boss,” Richie said.
Holt nodded then turned around to head to the house. What the hell was he supposed to say when he got there? He knew she was hurt—again. Damn, could he just get past hurting her? He knew if he told her he was in love with her, she wouldn’t believe him. Not now, anyway.
“Hell,” he said as he climbed the steps and entered the house.
Buddy lay on the floor but didn’t get up. He was a good dog and learned quickly. He stared up at him.
“Where is she, Buddy?” Buddy thumped his tail on the floor. “You’re no help. She’s pissed at me again.”
Blowing out a breath, he removed his hat then hung it on a peg by the back door. He strode down the hall to his bedroom and entered to see her packing her clothes. He watched as a tear rolled down her cheek and he could see her hands were shaking.
“Sloane—”
“I’m done, Holt. Until you’re ready to move past your wife, you’ll never find someone.”
“I—”
“I’m ready. Just take me home, please, or I can call Deidra.”
He gritted his teeth. “I’ll take you, but don’t you think we should talk about this?”
“Honestly? No, I don’t.” She picked up the suitcase, strode past him then walked down the hallway. He heard the back door open then close.
“Fuck,” he swore as he headed for the kitchen to get his hat and keys.
After walking outside, he climbed into the truck and glanced over at her, but she had her head turned to the window. He saw her wipe a tear away and wanted to kick his ass for hurting her.
“Sloane—”
“Just take me home, Holt.”
“All right.” He started the truck then drove to her apartment.
He parked by the steps and started to open his door when her voice stopped him.
“I don’t need you to walk me up. Have a good life, Holt. I wish you nothing but the best,” her voice cracked as she spoke.
She opened the door, got her suitcase from the back then he watched her make her way up the steps. When she reached the stoop, he was hoping she’d at least look back at him, but she inserted the key then disappeared inside.
“You’re a fucking idiot, James. Why in the hell couldn’t you tell her how you feel about her? Chicken shit,” Holt muttered then drove off down the alley.
****
Sloane set her suitcase down, removed her hat, and hung it on the hall tree. She picked up the suitcase and made her way to her bedroom to unpack it.
After putting her clothes in the hamper, she decided to head over to the bakery and start on some of the cupcakes. She sure as hell didn’t have anything else to do.
“Damn you, Holton James.” She wiped a tear away then walked back out to the living room. She picked up her keys, opened the door, locked it behind her then headed down the stairs to go to the bakery.
She knew baking would take her mind off Holt and she’d stay there as long as she could. She should have known she’d end up being hurt by him. If she could go back in time, she never would have agreed to see him. He had heartbreaker written all over that tall, gorgeous body.
“You sho
uld have known better than to get involved with anyone so fast,” she chastised herself. “You just went through a heartbreaking divorce and you start seeing another man almost immediately. Stupid, Sloane. Really stupid.”
She walked around the front of the diner, crossed the street, and strolled down the sidewalk to the bakery. She inserted the key, opened the door then closed and locked it behind her. She headed for the kitchen then turned on the lights. Taking a deep breath, she got busy working on the cupcakes. She had two dozen to bake and while they were baking, she’d go ahead and make the croissants and muffins for in the morning. Anything to keep her mind off Holt.
The next morning, she entered the bakery to see JoJo behind the counter. She was always here by seven-thirty. Sloane smiled at her.
“Good morning, JoJo. Did you have a good weekend?”
“Yes, except it was too short. How about you?”
“It was nice, thank you.”
“You either came in very early or you were here yesterday baking.”
“I came in yesterday. I got a little bored so I wanted to get started on the cupcakes and decided to bake what I could.”
“You must have been here all day. When I came in this morning, it smelled so good. Of course, it always smells good but when something was recently baked…well, I’m sure you know what I mean.” JoJo laughed.
“I do.” Sloane glanced at the door when it opened, and the bell chimed. She smiled at the woman who entered.
“Hi, I’m Vivian Beckett. I ordered cupcakes for my class. I was told I could pick them up on my way to school. Are they ready?”
“They are. Let me get them for you. I just need to box them up,” Sloane said with a smile.
“Great.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Vivian. I’m Sloane Gates.” She tilted her head thinking. “Are you related to the Becketts in Hartland?”
Holt Men of Clifton, Montana Book 12 Page 17
