by Cora Seton
“Bella, listen to me…” He gripped her arm.
“No! It’s your fault! It’s all your fault!” He’d slept with her for heaven’s sake. Slept with her, and pulled out—just so he could win.
“Honey, it’s not like that.” He lifted a hand to touch her face and she stiffened with rage. He was calling her pet names? Now? Her clinic, her shelter, her chance to buy back her father’s land was all slipping through her fingers and he was pretending he still cared?
Rage boiled up within her, choking her throat, burning her lungs, setting her aflame.
She struck him with every ounce of her strength.
The slap of her palm against the flesh of his cheek brought the set to a standstill.
Evan lurched backward, stumbled, caught himself. “Shit.” He held a palm to his cheek.
Bella couldn’t move. Stunned, she went cold, then hot, then began to tremble all over. What had she done?
“You hit me.”
She’d hit him. She, who’d never hit anyone in her life, had slapped the man she loved.
She gazed at Evan, still rubbing his jaw, and knew it was true; she did love him. She’d fallen hard for the man in a record short time and now she’d ruined any chance she’d ever had to be with him.
Closing her eyes she bowed her head, wishing the ground would open and swallow her whole. Shame overwhelmed her. What kind of woman was she?
Her father’s daughter.
Rocked by the realization, she put out a hand to steady herself, found nothing there. She’d lashed out just as he had—out of fury, out of frustration.
Out of fear.
In a flash she saw that day through her father’s eyes. He was out of money, close to losing his business, losing his legacy. The horse’s death was the final straw. Evan was right; the stallion should have been insured. But her father must not have insured him. In an instant it was all gone; the stallion’s leg shattered, the chance to earn back his money vaporized, the chance to save his land lost for good.
Overwhelmed by his anger, he’d hit their pet, and Caramel—never treated like that before—had raced away to her death.
Evan turned back to face her and Bella ducked her head again, unwilling to meet his eye, not wanting to see the blame there.
Just like her father. He never looked her in the eye again after Caramel’s death.
Now she knew why.
Not because he blamed her, but because he knew it was his fault. Everything was his fault.
He’d blamed himself.
Speechless with understanding, she forced herself to raise her head. She didn’t want to look at Evan—didn’t want to see the blame in his eyes—but she had to. This was where her father stumbled. He could have apologized. He could have admitted his guilt and allowed her to forgive him, but he’d been so afraid that she wouldn’t he never even gave her the chance.
She lifted her gaze to meet Evan’s. “I’m sorry.” The words were barely a whisper. “Shit. Evan, I’m sorry.”
Evan made a kind of choking sound and she stiffened, afraid she’d done more damage than she first thought. No wonder her father hadn’t been able to face her like this. Fear clogged her throat and twisted her guts—the fear that he’d never forgive her.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again, her eyes filling with tears for what she could have had with Evan. A relationship. A marriage.
A life together.
Evan’s shoulders heaved and he covered his face with his arm.
Oh my God! He was crying! Bella reached toward him. Stopped. Pulled her hand back.
“Evan? Are you okay?”
His shoulders shook. Around them, the crew shifted uncomfortably. Paul switched his camera off. “I can’t film this, man. This isn’t right.”
“Dude, pull it together,” Chris said.
“Evan…?” Bella touched him uncertainly.
He dropped his arm and Bella flinched back.
He wasn’t crying.
He was laughing.
“You should have seen your face!” he said. “Oh, my God. Did you really think you hurt me?”
“I…I…”
“Bella. Sweetie.” He swiped his arm across his cheeks and pulled her into an embrace. “Honey, I hate to tell you this.” He kissed her hard on the mouth. “You hit like a girl.”
* * * * *
Evan could hardly breathe for fear this moment would end. He sat on one of the catering crew’s ice chests, his arm around Bella who was snuggled up against him. Fifteen minutes after the slap heard round the world, as the film crew had already dubbed the incident, and she was still shaking. He wondered if she’d ever forgive herself for losing control. He’d forgiven her the moment her hand hit his jaw.
He’d deserved it for one thing. He kept treating her as if she was inferior to him. He acted like her worries were nothing to his, and that if she’d just let him take care of everything—and win—he’d sort out her little problems in no time flat.
What an idiot.
The camera crew was getting antsy, but he’d demanded they give Bella a cup of coffee and a donut before they went on with the challenge. He still didn’t understand why she couldn’t ride, but it was obvious she was terrified to try.
He wondered if Madelyn knew that when she planned this challenge.
Probably.
One part of him wanted to pretend he was terrified, too. Maybe they could both just skip it—get zero points like they had at the bridges yesterday—but when he mentioned the idea to Bella, she just shook her head no.
“All right, campers, what’s the holdup?”
Evan winced as Madelyn’s grating voice cut through clearing like a buzz saw.
“Who’s up first?” the director demanded. “What’s with all the cuddling?”
“I’m first,” Evan said quickly. He wanted to give Bella some time to pull herself together. He got to his feet and paced to meet Madelyn, already missing the feel of Bella under his arm. He couldn’t wait until the show was over and they could be together without the constant scrutiny.
“Take your place. We’re well behind schedule. You have twenty minutes to complete the course,” Madelyn said. “Ready. Set. Go.”
Evan strode to the board that showed step by step how to saddle and prepare his horse to ride. He’d thought perhaps the show would have supplied a skittish steed that refused to stand still for the process, but Buttercup, as a crew member told him his mare was named, stood placidly while he yanked and tugged the saddle into place and fiddled with the reins. He relaxed a little. Even Bella shouldn’t feel frightened of this gentle mare.
He felt an inordinate pride when he got everything situated and tightened all the straps. He’d never even attempted to ride a horse before, let alone handle its gear. He placed a foot in one stirrup, reached up for a handhold on the pommel and pulled himself into place, if not gracefully, at least successfully.
A look told him Bella watched him with her full attention. She bit her lower lip, her body completely rigid.
Again he wondered if he should try to lose.
No. The only thing to do was play this fair and square. Despite what Bella was going through, he wanted a year with her and he wanted to retain control of Mortimer Innovations. He’d help save those animals of hers and help set her up with a new clinic in San Jose if she wanted one. He’d spend the next twelve months showing her just how much good a few billion dollars could do in the world. Together they could be a force for change—both for humans and animals. Uplifted by that idea, he urged Buttercup forward into an easy walk.
The horse approached each obstacle as if she’d been trained for weeks on the course, and Evan pushed aside the uncomfortable thought that maybe she had. The mare traversed a small wooden bridge, wove through a maze of waist-high hurdles, stepped delicately through a jumble of broken logs and rocks, navigated into and out of a man-made ditch, and finally executed a small jump with Evan clinging to her back for dear life. He knew he wouldn’t win any prizes
for the elegance of his horsemanship, but he had made it through unscathed.
“Five points!” Madelyn called out. “A perfect score!”
Damn, couldn’t she even pretend she wasn’t playing favorites? Evan felt a blush creep up his neck as the camera crew shot looks at each other. Suddenly his elation at his accomplishment blew away like a morning fog before a noonday sun. Madelyn had made it easy on him. So how did she plan to make things difficult for Bella?
* * * * *
Bella knew that she should be able to saddle and ride a horse like Buttercup with her hands tied behind her back, even if she hadn’t ridden since she was ten. That didn’t stop her stomach from twisting into knots as she stood up to take her turn. Nor did it stop her hands from becoming slick with sweat as she walked toward Madelyn and the tack area.
“Give Buttercup a good rubdown,” Madelyn was saying to a crew member as she approached.
Rubdown? Why? Wasn’t she going to get her turn at the course?
Bella watched as Buttercup was led away and spotted another horse being led forward. A much bigger horse.
A stallion.
Her fingers clenched into clammy fists.
Madelyn knew. Somehow she knew.
The director smiled. “Thunder’s got some spirit to him—just right for an accomplished cowgirl like you, right Bella?
“That’s not fair,” Bella said.
“What’s that? You want to forfeit this contest?” Madelyn said, her grin growing wider. “You want to become Mrs. Mortimer right now? I’m sure I can find someone to perform the ceremony. Ellis? Get me a minister on the line!”
Bella’s eyes widened. “You should want me to win. Your audience loves it when the poor person wins!”
Madelyn just shrugged. “What’s it going to be, cowgirl? You going to ride that horse or throw in the towel right now?”
Bella looked at Thunder, sidestepping and tossing his head as he was led to the start of the course, then back at Madelyn. She felt hollow, scoured and twisted by her fear. She wasn’t sure she could even walk the twenty steps over to the horse, let alone get on him. But she had to, didn’t she? She had to face this fear once and for all.
“I’ll ride,” she said.
Madelyn shook her head at her. “You don’t know when to give in, do you?”
Stung, Bella wheeled away and walked a few paces off, trying to get a hold of her emotions. No, she didn’t know when to give in. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be in the financial mess she was today, she wouldn’t be the self-proclaimed savior of all the pets in Chance Creek, and she wouldn’t be on this stupid television show falling apart before the whole world.
“Bella, you don’t have to do this,” Evan said, approaching her again.
That was the last thing she needed; Evan nearby, all sympathy and open arms. She had to be strong. Had to keep her emotions in check. She searched for a reason to be angry and found it. Evan wanted her to give in. He wanted her to lose. He wanted his fake little wife, and the show was going to hand her to him. Damn it, she couldn’t let that happen.
“Back off, Moneybuns,” she snapped, brushing past him. “I’m ready,” she called out. The crew member soothing Thunder and keeping him in place undid his lead and backed away. The horse stood by the tack area, but snorted uneasily. Madelyn had really picked a winner here, hadn’t she? Bella thought angrily as her hands began to shake again. A real fireball, ready to throw her like she’d always feared.
But as Bella approached, Thunder quieted, and for all his initial jitteriness, she sensed a dignity about him. No doubt Madelyn had made sure to ruffle his feathers, but he wasn’t a flighty horse.
Stepping toward him slowly, inch by agonizing inch, a song crept into her mind—one her mother used to sing to her when she was small and afraid of the dark. She found herself crooning it to Thunder, the way her mother had sung to her, back when her life was good.
Her voice was low and thin at first, just as shaky as her fingers, but she found it calmed her to be doing something—anything—amid this tense situation. She moved forward slowly, slowly, still crooning. Thunder settled even more and she stood still to let him catch her scent. She waited for him to bridge the last gap between them, her whole body quaking with fear, and after a long moment he did take a step. He breathed in her smell and nudged her shoulder with his nose.
His action brought tears to her eyes. The movement was so gentle.
So human.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to move again, bending to pick up the heavy saddle. It wasn’t easy to get it onto his tall back, and her fingers fumbled and slipped as she went through the process of tightening the straps. Once or twice she actually had to consult the directions the show had provided for them to make sure her memory hadn’t failed her utterly.
“Ten minutes left,” Madelyn sang out as she finished getting Thunder ready.
The knots in Bella’s stomach tightened some more as she stepped back and looked the stallion over. So he had consented to let her saddle him. That didn’t mean he’d be easy to ride. She’d overcome her fear enough to stand next to Thunder and work with him, but could she possibly ride him? Nausea rippled through her stomach as she thought of the last time she stood so close to a horse.
The wheeling hoofs.
The crack of shattered bone.
Afraid she really was going to lose the contents of her stomach, Bella turned away from him, a hand to her mouth. She couldn’t do this. She just couldn’t do this.
But when she glanced behind her and caught sight of Evan’s knitted brow and Madelyn’s triumphant smile, her resolve tightened.
She would do this.
Even if it killed her.
* * * * *
Evan watched Bella pull herself into the saddle and brace herself there on top of Thunder, as if the horse meant to pitch her off at any moment. The stallion sidestepped, but then held steady, and after a long minute, Bella’s shoulders eased a fraction, and he let out the breath he’d been holding. She was going to be okay.
His confidence was premature, however. Only a few steps into the course it became clear that Thunder had sensed Bella’s fear and was reacting to it. The horse danced nervously as he approached the first obstacle—an arched wooden bridge that should pose no problem.
Just as Thunder stepped forward onto the wooden rise, however, Bella gasped at his unsteady gait and the horse shied away, turning around back toward the start of the course.
“No points!” Madelyn called out. “Next obstacle.”
“Wait a minute,” Evan said, striding to her side. “She can try it again.”
“Thunder’s hoof touched the bridge; Bella gets one shot at each obstacle, just like you,” Madelyn retorted. “Next obstacle.”
He could see the set of Bella’s jaw, but she didn’t contradict the director. Instead, she urged Thunder back around, past the bridge to the maze of hurdles.
Come on, Bella, just keep calm, Evan found himself thinking at her. He still wanted her to lose, of course, but he wanted her not to lose too badly.
He didn’t want her to feel afraid.
Easing Thunder into the close and twisting trail through the maze, Bella looked like she’d taken control, until Thunder got too close to one of the rails. She jerked on the stallion’s reins and the beast shied away from the next turn. Bella scrambled to guide him in the right direction, but it was too late. He bumped one hurdle, panicked, and crashed right through another one. Bella gave Thunder his head and allowed him to dance around the packed earth ground of the course for a few seconds before reining him in and setting off determinedly for the third obstacle.
Evan closed his eyes. He couldn’t watch anymore.
* * * * *
Her dreams were slipping right out of her fingers. If she couldn’t get herself under control she was going to lose this contest right now. She couldn’t blame Thunder, either; it was all her fault. The poor horse was doing his best, but she kept scaring him when he hadn’t
done anything to deserve it. She was sick with fear, sick at the memories that kept flooding back the longer she rode him.
So many years her family had wasted. So many years she’d felt hurt, alone and guilty.
“Five minutes,” Madelyn called out.
A pain so raw it made her bite her lip welled up inside her as she realized they were all in the same boat. Each and every member of her family still torn apart from that one awful day. Her father had waited for twenty years for her to forgive him; just as long as she’d waited to receive forgiveness from him.
A ragged sigh escaped her lips. No matter whose fault it all was, the time had come to end all of this sorrow and pain. It was time to win this show and buy back the land.
Time to put her family back together again. This was something she could fix, if she could just ride this horse.
Taking a deep breath she began to croon to Thunder again. She had no reason to fear him. The horse had no malice towards her—he was just confused by her fear, and starting to be afraid of what she’d do next. She had to convince him that she had confidence in him and that she wouldn’t upset him again.
“You’re a big, strong horse, aren’t you, Thunder?” she murmured. “And you’re a smart horse, too. You can do this course.”
Thunder shifted beneath her and shook his mane.
“I trust you,” she whispered. “I trust you to do your best, and that’s all any of us can do.”
She’d done her best since the day her family fell apart, hadn’t she? Studying hard, building her practice, opening a shelter that took care of hundreds of unwanted animals… She’d done everything she could. Her father had done his best as well, saving what he could of the ranch. Even her mother had done her best, torn between them.
Some of the tension went out of her shoulders. She really had done everything she could, and if she failed, if she had to give up her practice, she wouldn’t stop trying, either. She’d work to help animals for the rest of her life. Could she help her parents? She didn’t know, but she’d try. She could reconnect with her mother. She could forgive her father. She could speak of the past with her brother. She could find a therapist and get help for herself.
