by Jamie Magee
A gasping smile left his lips. “I always keep you safe, Harley. I swear to you, I will give you everything you ever want and more.”
Her eyes moved across his face, she reached to brush her fingertips across his strong jawline. “I only want you…”
They never left that room all day. While listening to the rain, they lost themselves in fits of passion, would drift to sleep, then find a new way to explore each other.
If Wyatt had ever thought to put more than a few snacks here and there in his house, they would have stayed in all night. But when his father called and asked if he was coming to dinner, they dared to venture out.
They walked in his parents’ house hand in hand. He pulled out her chair, sat next to her. Even squeezed her knee a time or two when he noticed that she was flushing, not making eye contact with everyone.
The dinner was lively. Ava and Truman were there; Memphis came by, too. No one said a thing about the pair of them, but Harley could swear she saw the curiosity in everyone’s eyes, the lingering smiles, even caught the hard jokes about how some thought rain meant you didn’t have to show up.
After dinner, Harley didn’t take all of her things to Wyatt’s, but she grabbed a small bag, the clothes she would need for the next day, and walked hand in hand with him through the stables, lingering near Danny Boy, spoiling him with apples and mints.
Wyatt was up with the sun the next day. Harley opened her eyes to see him dressing for work.
“This is going to be the longest day….” she said with almost a playful pout.
He pulled her legs to the edge of the bed, then her up into his arms. “I can handle a day as long as I know when I call, you’ll answer; as long as I know as soon as I’m off, I can see this beautiful face…anything past that…not possible, not anymore.”
***
Harley had just finished wrapping Danny Boy’s legs after his morning hand walk when Camille appeared before his stall.
“You need me to ride?” For the past few weeks, it had been hit or miss with that question. She either needed her to ride or train, but the training was few and far between; most of the time, Harley just helped her with the lessons she already had set up.
“No, I need you to come with me,” Camille said as she walked past the stall.
Harley felt her heart pick up a notch. This thing between her and Wyatt, now that it was out in the open, it was sure to change her and Camille’s relationship in some way. So far, they had been acting like they had in the past, teacher and student, neither acknowledging the obvious.
Camille was close to her son, really close. Harley couldn’t read her, didn’t know if Camille had said the things she said before because she wanted him happy and Harley was just the source, if in truth she could care less about Harley, or if it was the opposite, if Camille saw Harley as more than another rider.
She found Camille in a golf cart just outside. Camille didn’t say a word as they drove off, and Harley had no idea what to think when she started down the path that would lead to Wyatt’s home. Camille turned off, though, down a path that led between the paddocks.
Harley knew they were heading right toward the broodmare barn and assumed that Camille was just showing her the foals everyone kept talking about at dinner. She stopped the cart, leaned back in her seat, never said a word.
They hadn’t made it all the way to that broodmare barn, but the one next to it, that had the yearlings, those that Wyatt and Truman, along with others, rode to break, teaching them everything from handling a saddle on them to whatever role they had in their horse world. The horses in that barn were ones that would become jumpers.
All at once, Harley heard the gallop of powerful hoofs, looked to see a golden gelding charging across the largest paddock on this side of the farm. Harley had seen him at a distance before, when she was either making her way to Wyatt’s or from it. It was the only horse near his home; the others were kept closer in.
He was massive for a young horse; you could just see the power vibrating off him.
The only marks on him were his white face, and that color, it was almost topaz. The sun seemed to bring forth a glow.
“He’s gorgeous,” Harley breathed.
There was rarely a horse she had not found majestic, even the ones that were rescues that this farm brought back to life. In her mind, a horse was royalty, so much power, heart, something that could never really be tamed but called you to want to live your life with the same grace.
The only other horse that had taken her breath away like this was Danny Boy, when she was just a girl and the trainer at her school showed her a clip of him. That trainer told Harley that if she worked hard, if she really wanted to commit to this sport and challenge herself, that was the horse she needed to strive to build to.
Before that point, Harley had mastered the basics, mastered the horses that did their job so well that the rider was almost a decoration. That trainer never let anyone settle. Harley always thought that she was the one that told her father about Willowhaven Farms, suggested them, because when she told that trainer where she was going, that she had the mount she always wanted, all that trainer did was smile and say, “This is about to get real for you. Don’t go there unless you’re prepared for your entire life to change. You will never be the same.”
She was beyond right about that, for more than one reason.
Camille was still staring at the gelding, not bothering to agree or not. Just like with her riders, she rarely showed clear favoritism.
“Was he bred here?”
One nod.
“He’s young. Has he been broken?”
“In the process.”
“Which mare?” Willowhaven had stallions, but breeding was the smallest part of their business, and if Harley had been paying attention at the dinner-slash-business meetings, she knew that they had not used a stallion of theirs on the property until recently, too recently for this gelding to have been bred.
Camille glanced to her side, keeping her body in its character-rigid position. “Stolen Heart.”
A slow smile came to Harley. She loved that mare, she really did. This farm had rescued her mother, and Stolen Heart was dropped a few months later. That was the first birth Harley had witnessed, just days after she arrived at Willowhaven for the first time. They thought they were going to lose the filly a few times, her mother had little to no milk, but Harley, Ava, others all took shifts in feeding her goat’s milk. Stolen Heart grew strong fast.
She was hard to break. Wyatt had gotten her to where she could be ridden, but it seemed her job all in all would be to become a buddy for the rescue barn; she seemed to calm the other horses that were recovering, taught them to trust again by showing them how.
The gelding had stopped his gallop and was slowly walking to the water trough. When he got there, he drank his fill, then lifted his lip, showing his teeth, then glided his head back and forth over the water. Harley’s shocked gaze moved to Camille.
“Same sire,” Camille said.
“Danny Boy’s?”
Camille nodded slowly, even laughed as the gelding scared itself with the water and darted away, only to buck through the field.
“Wyatt was a natural the day he went pro. His first win, he paid the stud fee.” Camille kept her stare on the field. “He told me he was sorry I lost Danny Boy, that this was all he could do.” Camille moved her head from side to side. “I told him it wasn’t…told him it wasn’t the same.”
She rolled her shoulders against the seat. “I always say what I mean, but what I mean is not always heard. My son thought this horse would replace Danny Boy, maybe the memories of my first horse. He was telling me he was sorry for all the hell he put me through…what he didn’t hear, what I tried to tell him, was that he could cover up his past any way he wanted. He might find some joy in it, but it would not be the same.
“In this world, some say it’s all about breeding, that the power is in the blood…if this world has taught me anything, it is that
there are no absolutes…no real endings or beginnings, just a cycle of life.”
Camille looked to her side at Harley. “Harley, my father was a lot like yours, hard to understand. In the way that you are sure that his words had an insane depth that your humbled youth could not possibly fathom…my dad and me had a falling out here and there…always about breeding. And after our biggest fight, he told me that all I ever had to do was tell him what I wanted, needed.”
Harley looked away, hearing the similarities, and also knowing that she had gone so far down this road with Collin that there was no way to get out of it without telling her father she had lied to him for years. He’d never understand that she lied to keep the peace, that she lied because she found someone that could and would deal with her mother for her, that after all his silent lessons she was still a coward when it came to her mother. She never wanted her father to feel that disappointment, which was why Collin’s plan, this fake separation deal, seemed so inviting. It also felt wrong, though; it really did.
“Life is a cycle, Harley. You can’t be terrified to say what you feel… you need to say it while you can…say it before you can only wish you took the chance.” Camille leaned forward and grabbed an envelope that was on the dash of the golf cart.
“It’s not all about breeding; a lot of it is about heart. Blood can give you every talent you could ever need…but heart gives you the notion to use that talent.” Camille handed the envelope to Harley. “I could have bred any mare on this farm with the stud fee Wyatt obtained, but I chose this one, and I made sure this horse was the first thing Wyatt saw every day when he came home. I wanted him to think, that may or may not have helped him find the nerve to say what he never had the chance to…”
Harley looked down at the paperwork, the name of the horse. “Avowed.” She glanced up at Camille. The name meant the exact opposite of Clandestine’s.
“He named him…seems more than fitting currently.” Camille nodded to the papers. “He’s yours.”
“You’re giving him to me?”
“No, my son did, long ago. He just didn’t know that he did.”
“Camille.”
She raised her hand. “I didn’t want the horse back, Harley; I wanted you back. I wanted the peace you brought this farm. When you were here, everyone walked a little straighter, tried a little harder. They may have been simply displaying the respect I all but burned into them, I realize that, but I always thought you brought out the best in those you were around.”
“This place brings out the best in me.”
Camille let a small smile emerge before she turned, then drove the golf cart away, saying they had work to do.
Harley had dinner with Wyatt’s parents and grandparents all alone that night; Wyatt was at the fire department. The days he was there seemed to last forever. The business discussion was the same as the ones she’d heard before, they even asked for her input on a few matters.
Willowhaven Farms hosted several schooling shows a year, along with A shows and Grand Prix. The ones hosted at Willowhaven Farms always had a charity event that each sponsor was asked to donate to. It was also included into the entry and stall fees. Harley asked to take on the responsibility of setting up the communications for the shows that were seasons down the road. She knew it was something that would fill her time when she was not riding, something that her background had made her skilled at.
Camille was hesitant about giving Harley the file of past sponsors, even said she had had plenty of event coordinators. It was Beckett that told her it might be a good idea.
Harley didn’t understand the strained gazes they were giving each other and just assumed that Camille still thought that Harley would vanish from the farm at any moment. Having Beckett stand up for her, that made Harley’s heart hum with approval; he was usually the one that would crack wry jokes about her.
Camille not only nodded, agreeing that Harley should work with the coordinator, but she also asked Harley if she wanted to take on a few new students and teach afternoon lessons on the regular. That night, Harley felt like she had been handed a world medal. She could only nod as she thought of Wyatt; she was sure that he had told his mother that was something she wanted to do.
On the days Wyatt was at the fire department, those dinners with his family were part of her routine. It was also the nights she would stay in her room at the main house, have long conversations with her father on the phone, and talk to Collin, something she couldn’t really bring herself to do around Wyatt.
Beyond that one conversation, the one where Wyatt told her that he knew she wasn’t with Collin, his name was never mentioned. It was like the two of them just wanted to forget those years they were apart, and honestly, at times it was hard to imagine they had ever been apart; that was how seamlessly Harley had fallen back into Willowhaven.
When she spoke to Collin, they would go through the play-by-play that was occurring in the world she had left behind.
Harley was due back at her family home soon. The thirty-day stall rest period was almost up, and as far as her mother knew, her slow journey home, where she was staying with friends on her way up from Florida, was due to be over, too.
No one ever mentioned when Harley would or would not be leaving. Every time the topic even looked like it had the chance to develop in a conversation, she would drastically change what was being discussed, if not walk away all together, acting as if she had something she had to get done just then.
Without a doubt, she would have to attend her father’s party, go through that fake separation with Collin, deal with her mother - but that wasn’t until the end of summer, and right then she was in the middle of the best summer of her life.
Being at Willowhaven Farms, not being able to hide how she felt about Wyatt, that was a dream come true. They still never touched, had any major open displays of affection in front of his family or the clients, but when they were both at the barn, neither one of them thought twice about disappearing for a moment or two, stealing a kiss when no one was looking their way.
Harley’s issue now, the reason she and Collin were on the phone for hours on the nights Wyatt worked, was that her mother apparently still thought she was ten. Claire Tatum knew Harley’s schedule, that she was supposed to be at home, so she had set up lunches with girls Harley had always known but hated - and if not lunches, some kind of dinner that she and Collin should or were supposed to go to with other couples. Basically, adult play dates.
All of it was done gracefully; her mother made it seem as if it weren’t plotted by saying she had spoken to someone and they had said they should meet, and her mother only made the plans because she knew Harley was traveling, enjoying the last of her holiday before any ‘major’ events in the fall.
Collin and Harley’s conversations all revolved around their skillfully canceling these dates and somehow figuring out how to make sure that never got back to her mother. The last thing they wanted her mother to pick up on was the fact that they had been apart. They didn’t want her or anyone to know until right before her father’s party; if they knew beforehand, everyone would be involved in trying to reconcile the young couple. Surprise and an audience were what they needed to make this separation final in their world.
Collin was ridiculously clever about cancelling these dates her mother had planned. A few times, he even managed to get the other couples to cancel by saying that another couple would be joining them, and they would cancel because of some rivalry between the couple they were supposed to go out with and the one that Collin pretended to invite out. It was all a game, a sick, cold game, which Harley hated and was grateful that Collin could play like a pro.
Right now, though, only having to deal with these updates, long conversations every third day, was the best it had ever been for Harley. She felt herself slowly disconnecting. She even dared not to answer her mother’s daily emails on a regular basis. Most times, she never opened them unless the subject had something to do with her father. She’d just forw
ard them to Collin.
Harley had stayed on the phone so long with Collin the night before that by the time she called her father, Donald had said he had retired for the night.
That night, of all nights, she really wanted to talk to him. While she was on the phone with Collin, she had opened the file to the sponsors, silent and public ones, that Camille had given her. She’d wanted Collin to help her find even more that she could reach out to; she was determined to show Camille she could be an asset to the family business. When Harley named a few on her screen, Collin laughed. “Harley, four of those you have on that list are your father’s. Two are my dad’s. You already have the world behind you.”
That floored Harley. She never really paid attention to her father’s assets, mainly because money was the last thing ever on Harley’s mind. She rarely spent it. What she did own, her rig, her horses, their equipment, all of that was gifted to her over the years, on birthdays, graduation, or Christmas. The condo she’d stayed in in Florida was owned by Collin’s family. The money Harley used for food or just random needs all came out of the trust that was for her school. At times, she had actually gotten in trouble for not spending money.
To stop that scorning, she withdrew the amounts she was told were reasonable to use and put the money in a different account, one that no one but herself could touch, no fear of being frozen. So far, she could support herself and her horses for almost two years, hopefully long enough to figure out her next move if the worst came to be.
When Collin and Harley went further down the list, they figured out that in some way, some link, each sponsor was associated with her father.
Harley knew without a doubt that years ago her mother’s threats were not empty, that she could have very well not only hindered the Dorans, but the charities they stood behind. She also knew it was her father that must have defended them, must have made sure that none of the sponsorships halted.
The next morning, she was up at dawn, making sure she spoke to her father before the day got away from her.
