by Emily Mayer
We had stopped moving and I’d been watching the expressions wash across Margot's face. She seemed genuinely surprised by the time I had finished speaking. It seemed to take her a second to process what I’d said, because she was staring at me like I had just grown another head.
"That’s terrible! I can't believe he said that. I mean, I really cannot believe it. I’ve never heard him be mean just to be mean. Yes, he was absolutely miserable to be around after Leigh, but he wasn't mean. He wasn't a prince to the women he slept with after, but he seemed pretty honest with them about expectations—not that that makes it okay. Wait! Did you—I mean did you and Jack…"
"What? No!" I practically shrieked. "No, absolutely not. He can't even stand to be in the same room with me for more than five seconds. I swear he looks at me like I make him want to barf most of the time."
"Okay, sorry, I had to ask. I saw the way he moved you away from Rodney before dinner, the way he grabbed your elbow. I thought maybe there was something there. I mean, I wouldn't blame you if you had. Jack is—well, you've seen him."
"Yeah, I don't know what that was about. I’m surprised he didn't go wash his hands right away."
I was fully aware that I sounded like a child, but I wasn't about to take it back. Jack wasn't the only one who got to act like a child. Not that I wanted to be lumped into that particular group with him.
"I'll say something to him. You shouldn't have to deal with his attitude."
"No!" I grabbed her arm, feeling slightly frantic. "Please don't say anything to him. It's not like I live here. We barely see each other. It's fine, really. I know I’m not super outgoing, but I’m not a total troll either. It’s his problem."
"And his loss! You’re great. I don't know what his problem is. Are you sure you don't want me to say something? I hate that he's being mean to you. This place isn't exactly overflowing with women my age, so I can't have him chasing you away! See, it's totally selfish."
"I’m sure, thank you. Rodney has basically made me a ninja, so I’m super good at avoiding people. Plus, Jack told Ben that if Ben didn't tell Rodney to leave me alone, he’d say something himself. So he must not totally hate me."
Margot hmmed, looking at me with a thoughtful expression on her face.
"Well, that's interesting." Her thoughtful expression turned into a smile that said she knew something I didn't, but before I could ask what was interesting, she turned back toward the house. "We should get back before Letty finds a pile of dirt to bathe in."
We walked back to the house, mostly quiet. I had to fight the urge to ask Margot about what Jack had been like before the accident. If he had changed much since then. What kind of person he was when he didn't dislike you on sight. I had almost convinced myself I didn't really care about those answers by the time we made it back to the house, but much later, lying next to a snoring Hank Williams, I admitted I was a liar.
17.
The next couple of days seemed to fly by. I worked with Ben for however long I was needed, then helped Cole or Gabe around the ranch. We would cram a riding lesson in whenever there was time, and I started to get more confident on Photo. I checked in with King a couple of times a day, telling him about my lessons and how I was making new friends with all the muscles in my arms and legs. He took more and more steps in my direction with each visit. Margot and Letty joined us every evening, and I loved spending time with both of them. Pinehaven was really growing on me.
Even Jack and I managed to find a comfortable routine. He was no longer acting like I kicked his dog all the time, so I worked extra hard to try to avoid him. It made perfect sense in my head. I was seriously concerned Margot had said something to him, even though she promised me she hadn't. I was getting good at avoiding him—I had it down to a science, sneaking past open doors and pivoting to head in the opposite direction whenever I saw him or heard his voice.
It was a gorgeous afternoon and the air was crisp. Mid-September had brought cooler weather with it. I had practiced cantering today, and the speed had made the wind feel extra cold against my skin. My face still felt a little frozen as I finished putting Photo's gear away.
"I can't tell if you’re getting heavier or my arms are getting sorer,” I grunted, trying to lift the saddle up onto its spot on the rack.
"I don't think the saddle is getting any heavier."
A deep voice that did not belong to the saddle answered. I spun around, arms still stretched over my head trying to keep the precariously balanced saddle from falling down, to see the person I had been avoiding leaning against the door frame. The saddle chose this moment to decide that no, it would not go quietly. It came tumbling back down, landing awkwardly between my shoulder and neck.
"Ow, okay, just…" I tried to push the saddle off me and back up to the rack, failing pretty spectacularly. I blew the loose strands of hair off my face and turned back to Jack. "Did you need something? I’m almost done here so I’ll be out of your way in a second."
The stupid saddle lurched forward on my shoulder, and a hiss escaped my lips as it settled onto that ultra-sore part just below my neck. Jack moved forward quickly, stepping directly into my space. He lifted the saddle easily off me and onto its spot as if it weighed less than nothing. I was trapped between the wall and his chest. His flannel shirt stretched across broad shoulders as he reached up. It looked cozy.
Despite my best efforts at resisting his closeness, I inhaled the smell of him—horse and leather and something distinctly Jack. It was a pretty heady combination, one I couldn't even pretend to hate, which made me dislike him even more. How dare this man smell so good? So good he made my body work against my brain. It was rude. He probably did it on purpose, like a Venus flytrap wrapped in flannel that was annoyingly snug.
Good, Evelyn, I thought to myself. Cling to your anger. Anger is the right feeling here. Always the right feeling with Jack. I peered up at him and away from his gloriously muscled chest. He looked down at me as he lowered his arms, a grin pulling his mouth to one side.
"Are you okay?" he asked, not stepping out of my space.
"What?"
This close I could see that his brown eyes had flecks of gold in them. His square jaw was covered in stubble that was just a shade lighter than his rich brown hair. He must not have shaved today. I noticed he had a small scar just above his lip.
"A saddle just landed on you."
Shit. I felt embarrassment stain my cheeks. I pulled my eyes away from his and looked down at my dirty shoes. Maybe I could act like a normal human being if I wasn't looking into those brown eyes that turned my brain to mush.
"Oh yeah, sure. Happens all the time."
I cringed. So much for acting like a normal person.
"I noticed,” that deep voice said, so close I could almost feel it.
"It's… wait, what?"
I felt his gaze on the top of my head. I moved my eyes from my shoes to his chin. His chin seemed safe. It was a good strong chin. God, why did I keep finding things I liked about his face? I should be focusing on how much I did not like his behavior, like any sane person would be doing. Like I had no trouble doing with Rodney, but my mind kept reminding me of all the ways he was nothing like Rodney. And my heart—I had no idea what it was trying to do.
"Things seem to have a habit of falling on you. Suitcases, saddles…"
"Did… did you just make a joke?" I lifted my eyes to meet his, not missing the unmistakable warmth that seemed to pervade his features.
"I did. You didn't laugh, though, so not my finest work."
I only managed a weak, "Oh." I didn't know what to say. I felt so nervous my hands were starting to get damp, while at the same time a weird warmth was spreading from my stomach to my limbs. Everything about this man threw me off balance, whether he was being grumpy or nice. I was never on solid footing.
The silence stretched between us for several beats before Jack let out what sounded like a frustrated breath.
"I saw you out there on Photo today. You l
ooked good. Gabe said you're a quick learner."
I met his eyes, trying to judge the sincerity behind his words.
"Thank you. I forgot how much I liked riding."
It felt like I was tiptoeing on ice with him. I wasn't sure if the ice was solid or it would break, sending me plunging into frigid waters again.
"Yeah, not too many horses in Chicago." His eyes moved away from mine, making their way to my shoes. "Those aren't great for riding. You need to get some boots. Some real boots, not those things you had on earlier."
I threw my hands up in the air.
"What is with you all and these shoes? Nikes are athletic shoes—you know, for sporting stuff. Horseback riding is a sporting thing, so they’re perfectly acceptable."
"Sporting stuff, huh? I don't think it works like that, but nice try. Listen, I have to run to town tomorrow; you should come with me. We can stop and get you some boots that would be better for riding."
I stood, mouth slightly agape, trying to process his words. There was a pretty large part of me that was convinced the saddle had fallen on my head and knocked me out. Obviously, I had a head injury.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Jack's mouth moved from a grin to a full smile, obliterating whatever ability I had to form coherent thoughts.
"You should go with me into town tomorrow. Get some boots." His boot-clad foot moved to nudge my Nikes lightly. "If you're not working."
My frazzled brain could only process single words as it frantically tried to understand the sudden change in the man standing a little too close for two people who weren't even friends.
"Boots? Like cowboy boots?"
Jack chuckled, that warm deep noise that rumbled through my entire being. God, that was a noise I could get used to hearing. And then that elusive smile widened as if he knew exactly what kind of effect his laugh was having on me.
"Yeah, I think you earned a pair of cowboy boots."
I felt conflicted, staring up at this man who might be offering me an olive branch in the form of footwear. I remembered all the scowls and the words he had so carelessly tossed my way, but I also remembered the way he was with everyone else. The way he joked with Gabe and Cole, or the ease with which he showered Margot and Letty with affection. How could I not want to experience a little of that side of Jack? It didn't mean I had to forgive him, but I could give him a chance to earn my forgiveness.
"Okay, sure. If Ben doesn't need me to work and you're sure you don't mind, that would be great, actually."
"I wouldn't have asked if I minded."
He sounded so sure, looking at me with those warm brown eyes, that it was almost hard for me to remember how much he would have minded not too long ago. All of a sudden, I couldn’t seem to stop looking at the very same man I had been trying to avoid. And then his hand was moving toward my face, tentatively, like I might bite. I felt his fingertips gently brush against my forehead before disappearing into the hair just above it. I leaned into him just a little and fought the urge to close my eyes and lean into his open palm completely. Just as quickly, his hand was retreating back to his side, a piece of hay pinched between his fingers. I tried to swallow against my dry throat. It was like my whole body forgot how to work properly at the brief contact.
Hank Williams chose that moment to walk into the tack room and headbutt my leg for some attention, blessedly breaking the tension. I breathed a sigh of relief, bending down to greet the little intruder.
"Hey, Hank Williams, what have you been up to?"
Jack cleared his throat before stooping down to give Hank a quick scratch behind the ears.
"I better get back. I'll see you later."
I looked up from Hank, giving Jack a weak smile. I watched him walk through the door, taking the time to admire the back of him, before I pulled Hank into a hug.
"What just happened, Hank? This is a dream, right?"
Hank began to enthusiastically lick the side of my face, managing to slobber in my ear. I laughed. It was a loud, uncontrolled noise that bordered dangerously on the hysterical. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and scrolled to the group chat with my sisters. I needed help translating whatever it was that had just happened.
Me: I need an emergency meeting or something. This is not a drill! I repeat, this is not a drill!
My phone was beeping in my hand before I even made it out of the barn.
Elise: What’s happening? Did you tear your pants again? I swear to God, Evie, if this is another coffee emergency…
Me: Excuse me, tearing your pants in half while bending down to pick up a pen at work is absolutely an emergency. And I ran out of coffee on a holiday! Everything was closed, Elise. I could have died!
Elise: Sometimes I think you missed your true calling, Miss Dramatics. Can you wait 20 minutes? I have one more call to finish.
Corinne: Yes, 20 minutes! Celeste will be taking her nap, God willing.
Me: 20 minutes is perfect. See you both then!
I tucked my phone back into my pocket and hurried to the house. I managed to take a shower in record time. Settling back against the pillows, I set my laptop on the bed and waited for my sisters to call. A few minutes later I was looking at their faces and feeling a ridiculous sense of relief. The afternoon had been such an emotional rollercoaster that I was seriously in danger of crying.
"Okay, Evie, spill it. What’s going on and why do you look like you're about to cry?" Corinne said, her voice like balm to my frayed nerves.
"I just really miss you ladies. It's really good to see your faces." I swiped under my eyes, catching the few tears that had managed to escape.
"Evie, what's wrong? Do I need to fly out to Montana and kick someone's ass? Because I will,” Elise said.
Corinne nodded, adding, "I’ll fly out there and give you a hug. I’m too short to kick anyone's ass, and also I think that’s frowned upon when pregnant. Very Jerry Springer."
I laughed, sniffling a little, and feeling so unbelievably grateful that these two amazing humans were my sisters. All those years of fighting over anything and everything had slowly turned into the best friendship anyone could ask for. It made me regret even more all the moments of their lives I had missed trying to make all those stupid, stupid plans come true.
"I don't know what happened. Jack was nice to me. I mean really nice. He found me in the tack room and offered to take me with him into town tomorrow so I could get boots. And then he got a piece of hay out of my hair."
Silence followed. Elise held up her hand.
"Wait a minute. All this"—she waved her hand up and down in front of the screen—"is because Jack wants to take you to get boots? And he got hay out of your hair?”
"Help me out here, Evie. I feel like we’re missing something,” Corinne added, frowning a little.
"It's just, well—you remember how I told you he doesn't seem to like me at all? Like how he’s always trying to avoid me or scowling, but how he’s so sweet to Margot and Letty?"
I waited for both to nod before continuing.
"It's like all of that changed overnight. I don't know. It feels weird. I feel weird. I don't know what to think."
"Okay, let's start at the beginning. What happened today, in detail? The last thing I remember hearing about Jack is that he called you a cowgirl wannabe that he didn't feel like babysitting or something, and then how weird it was to see him being all sweet to Letty and Margot. Is that right, or did I leave something out?" Corinne prompted, using her concerned mom voice. Normally I wanted to strangle her when she used her mom voice on me, but right now it seemed fair.
"No, that’s everything. Actually, no—a couple days ago, Ben asked me if Rodney was making me feel uncomfortable—"
"Uh, hell yeah he is! It's about time Ben said something,” Elise interrupted.
"It was probably one of the most uncomfortable conversations I’ve ever endured, second only to mom's ‘sex is not a recreational activity’ talk." My shudder was echoed by shudders from both sisters. "Anyw
ay, he apologized and said he would say something to Rodney. Then he admitted Jack had told him to say something to him or he would, because he thought Rodney was manhandling me."
"Whoa, I didn't see that one coming,” Elise said.
Corinne nodded her head in agreement, adding, "That is pretty unexpected."
"I know! And it felt like he hasn’t been trying so hard to avoid me. So, obviously, I’ve been working extra hard to avoid him. I was putting Photo's saddle back in the tack room when he came in and helped me. Then, like we were just two friends who do friend things all the time, he said I should go with him tomorrow so I could get a pair of cowboy boots. Just like that. And he made a joke! A freaking joke! Who does that?"
"He's clearly a monster,” Corinne deadpanned.
"Don't joke with her, Corinne; she's obviously a woman on the edge."
"Thank you, Elise. Like I was saying, after he told a joke, he said I was really coming along in my lessons, or that I was a quick learner or something like that. He was standing really, really close and my brain stopped working. It was definitely a compliment though. I mean, I was speechless. I just looked at him. And he has these really pretty, warm eyes. They just kind of suck you in and you can't think at all. At all!"
I sucked in a deep breath. I couldn't stop the words that were spewing out of my mouth like a tidal wave.
"Then he just reached up like this"—I demonstrated the way his hand had grazed my forehead before it reached the piece of hay in my hair—"and pulled a piece of hay out of my hair."
"Uh-huh," Elise said, looking a little dazed. "What exactly is the problem? Because it sounds to me like Jack is actually trying to be a nice human being, which is a good thing."
"What’s the problem?" I huffed. "I liked it! That's the problem! I should have kicked him in the shin and said 'Thanks but no thanks, you scowly asshat.' I need to go back in time and slap some sense into myself, obviously."
"Okay, time travel is clearly not an option here, so—and don't get mad at me for asking, but—Evie, have you considered the possibility that you might like Jack a little?" Corinne suggested.
