by Peak, Renna
As Nick urges the horse forward, though, I have to admit that I feel a bit of a rush. I still grip the saddle horn with both hands, but I no longer feel as if death is imminent. I’m riding—I’m actually riding!
A grin breaks across my face. A couple of days ago, I had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do. Now I’m horseback riding. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel confident enough to take one of the horses out on my own.
In the meantime, I feel better with Nick behind me, keeping me from falling off. It’s a bit cramped on this saddle—one wrong bounce will bring my crotch down at an uncomfortable angle on the pommel—but it’s worth the discomfort. He’s had to reach around me to hold the reins, and even though I can tell he’s trying to give me a little space, his arms offer just the right amount of support. I try to ignore the way his crotch is right against my butt—especially since it reminds me a little too much of one of the positions we tried in my dream last night—and instead focus on the horse.
He leads us away from the barn, toward the nearest field. Yesterday, Nick told me he owns nearly ten thousand acres. I can’t even fathom how big that is. His land stretches in every direction, across fields and forests and sloping meadows.
“Can we go to the river?” I ask him. He told me the river cut across the northwest corner of the property, and though I looked for it from my window, I couldn’t see it through the trees.
“If you like,” he says. He leads Prince toward a patch of trees.
Meanwhile, I’m looking in every direction, trying to take it all in. I still can’t get over how beautiful it is out here. The sky is so blue, and it just goes on forever. You never really grasp, when you live in a big city like New York, how those tall buildings limit your view of the world. I feel like I’m seeing nature for the first time.
There’s a path through the trees—a narrow track where the grass has been worn away. Nick has Prince follow it, taking us beneath the shade of the trees. It’s much cooler here—cool enough that I kind of wish I brought a jacket—but it’s so beautiful and peaceful. Pine needles and fallen leaves crunch beneath Prince’s hooves, and birds twitter in the branches overhead. I never realized before how loud nature can be—back home, you were lucky to hear any birds at all over the honking of car horns.
Nick, as usual, is silent as we ride. I am too. I just want to listen, to take everything in. I can’t believe that, for the next month at least, this is my home.
We ride for quite some time—maybe half an hour. Nick keeps Prince at a walk, probably for my sake, and I’m grateful for it. We cross fields and cut through other patches of trees, each one as magical as the last, until finally I see the glint of sunlight off of water up ahead.
Nick leads Prince around and down a gently sloping bank. The river stretches ahead of us, the water rushing merrily along.
“Are there fish?” I ask him.
“I assume so,” he says behind me. He’s close enough that his breath stirs my hair when he speaks. “I don’t know anything about fishing.”
“Then we’ll have to learn,” I tell him. “It would be a waste otherwise, having this here and never fishing.”
I don’t think he’s very enthusiastic about the idea, but he’ll realize I’m right eventually. Fishing is another one of those things I’ve always been curious to try but never had a chance to.
Nick leads Prince along the bank of the river for a while. Finally, he stops, pointing to a fence along the edge of the field up ahead.
“This is the border of the property on this side,” he tells me. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with this area yet.” He turns Prince toward the field, and I glance around as the gelding marches carefully through the tall grass. Wildflowers speckle the field—white and red and lavender and yellow, creating a rainbow of blossoms. Bees and butterflies and dragonflies buzz about, sometimes landing briefly on a flower or a blade of grass before flitting away again. A breeze slithers through, snaking a path across it all, disturbing petals and the tufts of fuzz sticking up from some of the taller grasses.
“You should just leave it,” I tell him. “It’s beautiful as it is.” I try to twist in the saddle, to look up at him, but I only find myself leaning precariously against his arm. I pretend it’s on purpose. “Isn’t it perfect? Can’t you just see yourself out here with a good book, lying on your back in the middle of all this? With a nice breeze, and the trickle of the river in the background… It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” He looks unconvinced, so I twist back around and face the field again. Come to think of it, I have a hard time imagining this guy reclining in the grass, even here. We’ll have to work him up to it. “We can start with a hammock,” I tell him. “Over there, I think. Between those two trees on the far side.” I point. “You’ll be in the shade, but just barely. And you’ll get to watch all of this. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? We can put a hammock on the list for the next time we go on a shopping run.”
“I’m not sure how much time either of us will have to relax in a hammock,” he says. “There’s work to be done.”
“Everyone needs a break sometimes,” I tell him. “And if you’re already out on this side of the property, what better place to take one? Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”
“You say that a lot.”
“Because it’s true a lot.” I wiggle in the saddle. “Can I get down for a few minutes? I’m going to hate myself if I don’t run through these flowers at least once.”
“If you don’t what?”
“Run through the flowers.” I throw my arm wide, indicating the meadow. “You know, just about every office in America has an inspirational poster with a picture of a field of flowers and some cheesy quote about life printed across it. And everyone who has ever worked in an office has at some point looked at that image and wondered how their life has gone so horribly wrong, that they’re stuck in a crummy office instead of running through a field of flowers or climbing a mountain or just living life. But I’m here now, so I’m going to do it. If you let me down, of course.” I wiggle again, and with a sigh, he climbs down.
Getting down is much easier than getting up. And for the moment, I don’t let myself think about how I’m going to get on again. I just look at the field, and then up at Nick.
“You coming?” I ask him.
“Are you asking if I’m going to run?” He shakes his head. “I think not.”
“Suit yourself.” I don’t try to persuade him. Sooner or later he’ll realize on his own that he’s letting the fun bits of life slip right by him. It took me a long time to realize I was doing it. But now that I’ve taken the leap, I refuse to look back. Of course, a month or a year from now I might realize I’ve made a terrible mistake, but for the moment it’s all still novel and exciting, and I’m going to take full advantage of this feeling while I can.
With a grin, I begin sprinting. The grass is taller than it looked from Prince’s back—nearly up to my thighs in places—but the ground is even and firm beneath my boots. I run as fast as I can, first toward the trees and then back around in a circle. I bend slightly and let my palms graze the top of the grass. And then I slow a little and let myself skip—because I can’t remember the last time I actually skipped. Of course, skipping is easier said than done in new boots, and I end up tripping. I fall laughing onto my hands and knees, then roll over onto my back and stare up at the sky.
Yes, this is perfect.
The grass is poking me in a few places, and I think there’s something crawling on my left arm, but I don’t care. A couple of small white flowers bob in the breeze above my face, and the sky looms above them. There are more clouds now, and the sun isn’t as bright as before, but it’s still so pretty.
A couple of minutes later, I hear Nick’s heavy steps crunching through the grass. Then his head appears above me.
“Are you all right?” he asks. “I saw you fall.”
“I’m perfect,” I tell him. I pat the ground beside me. “Come on down. It’s really comf
ortable.”
But he shakes his head. “We should probably return. It looks like it might rain soon.”
Regretfully, I sit up, glancing around. Sure enough, to the north the sky has grown quite dark, and I can feel the wind picking up.
“That came on fast,” I say, scrambling to my feet. I can’t believe I didn’t notice the clouds sooner.
Nick doesn’t respond, just continues frowning at the darkening sky.
It takes me three tries to get back on Prince—which could have been a lot worse. But by the time Nick swings up behind me, the first fat raindrops begin to fall.
“I think we’re going to get a little wet,” I say. How long did it take us to get all the way out here—thirty minutes? Forty?
Lightning flashes, and Prince jerks his head, startled. I grip the saddle for dear life.
“Hold on,” Nick tells me.
And without giving me any more warning, he kicks Prince into a gallop as thunder booms overhead.
Nicholas
One of my greatest pleasures in life has been riding horses. I learned every detail of the palace grounds in Montovia, and I plan to learn every detail of my own land here at some point.
If I’ve learned one thing about these animals, it’s that they fear thunderstorms more than anything else. My only bad experiences in riding have come at the hands of a frightened animal.
Clara clutches the saddle horn, and I can feel her trembling. I’d slide an arm around her if it wasn’t already so difficult to control the horse with the reins.
Even at a full gallop, we’re at least fifteen minutes from the house. The few drops of rain quickly turn into a deluge, soaking me to the skin in an instant.
Clara says something in front of me, though I can’t hear her over the rain. It matters little, anyway. I’m having enough difficulty trying to control the skittish horse—I’ve no space in my mind to think of anything else, let alone trying to decipher what the woman in front of me is trying to say. If there should be so much as another clap of thunder, we’ll both be thrown—
It seems to happen in an instant. One moment, I’m guiding the animal through the wooded area—giving us all a brief reprieve from the downpour—and the next, Clara and I are flying through the air, the horse having bucked us off after an angry burst of lightning and thunder overhead.
I land with a thud on the ground, and I lie there motionless for a moment. I’ll probably be bruised, but otherwise I seem to be fine.
Clara. I clamber to my feet, looking around for the woman, finding her only a few feet from me. She pulls herself to a sitting position, and I go over to her, kneeling beside her.
“Are you all right?” I reach over to touch her shoulder.
She opens her mouth to speak, but it appears she’s having trouble taking a breath.
I rub her back for a moment. “You’ve had your breath knocked from you. Try to remain calm.”
She looks up at me with wide eyes, and after a moment, her shoulders drop and she begins to relax enough for her lungs to fill again with air.
“I…I…” She takes a long breath before she stands. “Prince!”
I lift a brow, my mouth hanging open for a moment before I realize she’s speaking of the animal, not of me.
“We have to find him!” She begins to run toward the path we were following.
“Clara…” I shake my head, following her. “He’ll return to the stable. It’s his home. It’s where he feels safest.”
“How do you know?” She turns to me. “How can you be sure?”
“I can’t.” I frown at her. “But the animal is quite a bit faster than us. Even if we were to run the rest of the way to the house, it will beat us there by an hour.”
“What are we supposed to do then?” She looks toward the tree line. “Walk?”
“Unless you’ve some vehicle hidden nearby.”
She looks at me with the oddest expression—some mixture of amusement and disgust, and I can’t help but think how attractive she looks, even with her hair plastered about her face. It’s all I can do not to stare at the way her soaked shirt clings to her breasts, sending a rush of energy to my cock.
Stupid. That sort of thinking will do nothing but get me into trouble…
But it isn’t so wrong to appreciate a beautiful woman, I suppose. I just need to remember that all I can do is appreciate. There can be nothing else.
“Should we just wait it out here?” She looks up at the canopy of trees overhead that are protecting us a bit from the rain. “It’s only a little drippy here. Not like out there.” She hitches a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the open pasture ahead.
“We’ll still have to walk. And the likelihood of one of these trees being hit by lightning is fairly high—”
“And if we’re out in the field, the likelihood of one of us being hit by lightning is fairly high. It hits the tallest thing it can find, right?”
“Fair point.” I frown. “Very well. We’ll wait over here.” I motion toward a collection of bushes that will provide a bit of cover, not that we aren’t already soaked to the bone.
“Perfect.” She grins at me, almost skipping over to the spot I’ve indicated. She plops onto the wet ground, patting the spot beside her.
I shake my head as I make my way over to her. I’ve never known anyone who could find joy in this sort of misery, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it.
“This is nice,” she says as another clap of thunder sounds overhead. The sky opens again, and a new hard downpour begins.
“Nice?” I shake my head as I sink to the ground beside her. “I’d hardly say this was anything close to nice.”
“It’s better than lots of things.” She shrugs. “I can think of about twenty places this is better than.”
I look over at her. “Hm. Name one.”
Her cheeks blossom a deep shade of pink. “Well, how about a boardroom?”
“I’ve little experience in boardrooms.”
“Really? Even with your fancy European degree?”
I stare at her for a moment, blinking a few times. “I never said I had a fancy European degree.”
“Huh. I’m pretty sure you did.” She grins. “Where did you say you were from originally?”
“I didn’t.”
She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “I guess we agreed to not share our secrets unless we wanted to.”
“We did.”
“Do you want to? Share your secrets?”
“Not particularly.”
Her smile widens. “Neither do I.”
I’m not sure what to make of this woman. And I’m completely uncertain what her intentions are. And I’m entirely pissed that I’m finding myself more attracted to her with each passing moment.
“Do you want to play a game?” She looks up at me with another grin, her eyes glowing with mischief.
“No—” I barely get the word out before lightning cracks loudly overhead as it hits the tree across from us, setting it instantly on fire.
I grab Clara’s arm, pulling her to her feet as I stand.
She looks up at me with terror in her eyes. “What do we do?”
“Run!”
Clara
We sprint across the field, away from the burning tree. Maybe it would have been safer to stay where we were—don’t they say that lightning never hits the same spot twice?—but I’ll feel safer far away from here.
We’ve nearly reached the other side of the field before I realize I never let go of Nick’s hand after he helped me to my feet. Maybe I should feel embarrassed, but I don’t. I just keep running. The rain keeps pouring down, soaking me to my skin, and my feet slosh around in my new boots. Guess this is as good a way as any to break them in.
When we reach the clump of trees on the far side of the field, we slow down. I went to the gym a few times a week back in New York, but I’m still a lot more out of shape than I thought. When I glance over at Nick, I’m pleased to see I’m not the only one
struggling to catch my breath.
I slip my hand out of his before things get awkward. I’m not sure he even noticed we were still holding them.
“We should continue,” he says after a moment of studying the field behind us. “As long as we’re out here, we’re in danger.”
I want to argue once more that exposing ourselves in the middle of an open field is probably more dangerous, but considering how that worked out for us the first time, I doubt he’ll listen. Even if it is incredibly unlikely we’ll be nearly struck a second time.
And besides, the thought of being back at the house with a blanket around me and a mug of warm cocoa in my hand is sounding better and better by the minute.
“Lead the way,” I tell him. “You do know the way back, don’t you?”
He frowns. “Of course I do. It’s my ranch.”
“That you’ve owned for less than two weeks,” I tease.
He grumbles something under his breath, and I fight a smile. God, he is so easy to rile.
We walk through the patch of trees to the far side, where we come to another field.
“We go southeast from here,” he says, pointing. “To those trees over there. From there, we just have to cross a couple of pastures.”
“We can do that,” I say cheerfully. “Easy peasy.” And then drown ourselves in hot cocoa at the finish line.
“Ready to run again?” he says.
My grin widens. “I’ll race you.”
He looks like he’s about to refuse, but I don’t give him the chance. I bolt out in the field, into the full brunt of the rain once more. A moment later, I hear him sloshing behind me across the grass.
And he’s taking our race seriously. He must have slowed himself down for my sake before, because he catches up to me easily, then passes me.
“Not fair!” I call after him, practically shouting to be heard over the pouring rain. “Your legs are longer than mine!”
He doesn’t respond. Or if he does, the words are swallowed by the next rumble of thunder, which is so loud I give a little shriek of surprise. I push myself harder, trying to catch up to him, but I can already tell this is one race I’m going to lose.
