by Sarah Noffke
“Yeah, he’s my second best horse. Not as pretty, but he’s still a looker.”
The laugh that bursts out of my mouth echoes around us. As though he was born on a ranch and not confined to a suit most of his life, Rogue steps into the saddle and slings his leg over the side. Again the way he moves chills me. His gift of agility is unbelievably mesmerizing. His movements blur with grace. He extends a hand to me and I realize I’m holding my breath. Somehow by just watching him I’ve forgotten to breathe. “My lady?”
Sitting up tall on his horse, the moon casting him in a flawless light, I see Rogue for the first time for who he has truly become. A man. But not just any man, he’s become one who can steal anything he wants, pull it to him with just his sheer desire. And he’s stolen my heart. I’ve always loved Rogue, but not like I do in this moment. I don’t love him like a friend anymore. He doesn’t remind me of the boy who used to knock on my door at the same hour after dinner every night. I love him like my life depends on it. And in this moment I know it does. Our love has freed me.
I grab his hand, and with a strength that tightens my heart he pulls me up and onto the horse, whom I refuse to call by my name. My hands seize onto Rogue’s waist to steady me. “I’ve never ridden a horse before,” I say, looking down at the ground which feels too far away. The horse feels warm under me, and strangely like I’m straddling a tractor.
Rogue turns around and gives me a sideways smile. “It’s just like riding a bike.”
“How’s that?” I ask, looking down at my feet that hang loosely on either side of the horse.
“If you fall off, it hurts like hell.”
I laugh and snuggle my face in his neck, before lifting my chin and planting a single kiss on his cheek.
He turns back around and straightens up. “Hold on tight, babe.”
I snake my arms more snugly around him and press my chest to his back.
“Come on, Em, take us home.”
Rogue digs his heels into the horse, flicks the reins, and we take off in a steady trot down the hill, away from the land where I was born and to a place where I hope to be reborn.
Keep Reading for the Next Installment in the Reverians Series!
Acknowledgements:
I can’t believe I actually get to say this, but my first thank you goes out to my readers. I have readers?!?! You all reached out and supported me so much after my first series was published. I’m not going to lie. I was mortified by the experience. Would the world hate it? Love it? Line dog crates with it? But you all told me how much you enjoyed the Dream Travelers’ world. You asked for more. You encouraged me. Every single comment and review and email has given me confidence to step back in the author ring and put my heart on the line. Thank you for giving me that encouragement. Thank you for your insights and thoughts and sharing with me.
Thank you to my beta readers. Seriously, this would be a way different story without your help. I’m more than grateful for the time you give making my stories better. Without you I would be lost. Thank you to first chair, Colleen. Thank you to some of my biggest supporters Heidi and Mike. Thank you to Kelly for tightening the storyline. And thank you to Dane and Meghan who are eagle eyes. Thank you to Katy and Mathew for their incredible insights.
Thank you to my editor, Christine LePorte. Your work really polishes my story and your encouraging words have been a huge support to me.
Thank you to Andrei Bat. Can you believe I roped you in to do another cover for me? Bhahahaha! You can’t get away from me.
Thank you to my Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter and Instagram family. I have so much fun with you all and you have no idea how much the interaction encourages me. Thank you to the fantastic bloggers out there who have supported the first series and this one. I feel so fortunate to be able to work with you all.
Thank you to my family who is constantly building me up. Specifically a huge thanks to Randy and Edie. Your unconditional love just blows me away. Thank you to my dad, Kathy, Bea and Anne. Love you all.
Thank you to my friends. Seriously, you all amaze me with your support. I love you all so much and just want to make you proud. Thank you to Marie, Susie, Nicole, Nicole, Anna, Melinda, and Heidi for all your help with the books.
Thank you to spirit for granting me so many blessings. I have said before, and firmly believe, I have written very little of my own. I’m a recorder of sorts, writing down the inspiration you give me through some strange cosmic source. To me, there’s no other real explanation.
A colossal thanks to my husband, Luke, for putting up with me. When I write I turn in to a crazy, multiple personality kind of person. I reason that I’m channeling my characters, but to the outsider it would seem that I’m a little bipolar. At least I’m honest about it. Anyway, Luke doesn’t just allow this, he actually admires this to an extent. Luke, you are my first reader and my best critic. And I love you dearly. Thank for putting up with me.
And the last thanks goes to my beautiful daughter, Lydia. I’m always trying to make you proud because you, sweetheart, make me so very proud. I never wrote like I did once you entered my life. You are my inspiration.
One-Twenty-Six Press.
Rebels
Sarah Noffke
Copyright © 2015 by Sarah Noffke
All rights reserved
Copyeditor: Christine LePorte
Cover Design: Andrei Bat
All rights reserved. This was self-published by Sarah Noffke under One-Twenty-Six Press. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. If you are seeking permission send inquiry at http: www.sarahnoffke.com
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Summary: No one is more dangerous than those who were once suppressed and have broken free.
Published in the United States by One-Twenty-Six Press
ISBN: 978-0-9862080-7-2
For Dad, Kathy and Bea.
REBELS
Chapter One
Hard to believe three months ago I’d never even seen a horse, and now I’m crouched down low on one who shares my name. I tried to rename her, but Rogue said it would confuse the horse. Wind races through my hair as we canter across a rare stretch of flat ground. Most of the trek between Rogue’s farm and Austin Valley is dense brush and steep hills. However, Em easily manages the trails, which have been carved into the side of the hills by Rogue’s many commutes to and from the Valley over the years.
“Only a little farther now,” I say to Em, the golden palomino I’m riding.
A stiff ache has formed in my neck from checking my back, hoping he’s not following. The sun is just now coming up over the eastern mountains and hopefully Rogue is still sleeping. He’ll wake up soon and discover I’m gone. Discover I’ve left. And he’s probably going to kill me for what I’m doing, but if I can accomplish what I returned to Austin Valley for, then I’ll endure his anger.
I’ve only been gone for a night from his house and already I miss it. Miss the way it has its own personality, one which is comforting and also intriguing with its many oddities. Rogue’s house was built following the strictest of construction protocols, but he snuck in many of his own ideas, adding secret compartments in walls and drawers in the stairs where we keep our shoes. I know I’ll be returning to him and that house soon, but to be away after these long three months feels wrong, like I’ve left a vital organ behind.
When Rogue told me about his house he said he had a garden. He lied. He had a patch of weeds. Now he has a garden. Good thing he didn’t tell the same lie about his house. Otherwise I would have been living in a shack. It was obvious he’d spent all his time on the house, sustaining himself on cans of beans and freeze-dried fruit during its construction.
&n
bsp; As the terrain in front of us grows denser with brush, I slow Em into a trot, intent on keeping a quick pace. Rogue was right about Em; she’s an incredible horse and her competent navigating allows my mind to wander back to when I first entered this new world full of Rogue, his farm, and his animals.
After our escape from Austin Valley, Rogue and I rode continuously, me holding on to him, trying to absorb the steady bounces of the horse. Rogue made me close my eyes when we finally neared his house. I listened with shut eyes as he dismounted and then pulled me off the horse and set me on my unsteady feet. My back ached from the ride and I never thought my head would stop vibrating from the constant rattling of the hooves on uneven terrain. I heard something approaching but with Rogue’s giddy breath by my ear I didn’t worry.
“Keep them closed, Em,” he said to me.
And then a wet soft sensation nipped at my fingertips.
I gasped, pulled my hand to my chest. “What was that?” I said, jumping back into his arms.
He laughed, one so pure I immediately relaxed. “That’s Athena. Specifically her tongue.”
“What? Gross! Dogs lick you? What did I do wrong?” I said, my eyes still dutifully closed, but the idea of an animal wiping its tongue against me made my mind cramp with strangeness.
“Nothing,” he said with a chuckle. “It means she’s likes you.”
If these strange animals did that if they liked me, I was worried to find out what they did if they didn’t.
With Rogue’s hand guiding me at my back I stepped roughly twenty feet. Then he spun me around to face him.
“Open your eyes,” he said, an eagerness in his voice.
I peeled open my eyes to find the sun setting over Rogue’s broad shoulder. We’d ridden most of the night and day to arrive there before dark. Clear rolling hills the color of spring moss stood in the distance at his back. Forest punctuated the areas to the sides. And to the north I could just spy a small stream snaking between two hills. My eyes finally found Rogue’s, which were overflowing with excitement. His smile widened, a perfectly crooked one. His almost black hair was wilder than usual, having been swept every which way by the wind as we rode.
At his knee I caught movement. I dared to look down. Only in books had I seen dogs. This one had a long black snout, perky ears, and a coat of black and brown fur. I jumped at the sight of her. Which made her ears perk up more and she struck a protective stance.
“Heel, girl,” Rogue commanded, and she sat her hindquarters back on the sandy dirt ground. “She’s never seen one of you.”
“A girl?” I asked, taking another step backward, as the dog tweaked her head to the side at the sound of my voice.
“I was talking to Athena,” Rogue said, with an amused smile. “You’ve never been in the presence of a dog, right?”
I nodded. “Do you always talk to them like they’re people?”
“No,” he said with offense. “I treat animals with way more respect.”
He had his hand down at his side and Athena looked between it and me with a tentative expression in her brown eyes. “She senses your fear, Em. It makes her worried you mean her harm.”
“I know what she’s capable of,” I said, tension laden in my tone. “She has teeth, and aren’t dogs like her police animals outside the borders of Austin Valley?”
“Yes, she’s a German shepherd. And need I remind you, you’re outside those borders now.”
All my life it had been about what happened inside versus outside Austin Valley’s borders. Black and white. Safe and unsafe. Happy and unhappy. I figured the world outside the Valley was full of savages. An unforgiving world where nothing went the way you wanted and no one did as you pleased. A world that was unkind and imperfect. Of course, I’d seen the world outside Austin Valley during brief dream travels but that had always been to an approved location, like a college auditorium or a closed down amphitheater. Before Rogue showed me Amsterdam I’d never seen a place in color. The irony was my life in Austin Valley had been in black and white and now I was seeing everything in high definition.
Athena regarded me with doubt when I reached out a hand to her. “I’m all right,” I said, willing my hand not to shake and my voice to remain steady.
Rogue waved his hand at her and she stood, taking two steps in my direction. Her nose touched my fingertips, a cold slippery feeling. Her long snout grazed my pant leg. And then, as though she’d confirmed I wasn’t a threat, she suddenly made a circle and took the spot next to Rogue’s leg again, his jeans caked in dirt from the long ride.
He looked way too entertained by that exchange. “See, that was easy.”
“I have my hand, so I’d say it wasn’t a complete failure.”
He stepped forward and pointed over my shoulder. “Well then, if you’re ready I have more to show you.”
I turned, and there nestled between an assortment of trees was a house as clean and perfectly built as the ones we have in Austin Valley. Well, not exactly like them. Better. It was a Craftsman style house with a front porch. An A-frame roof. Four columns and four steps leading up to a mostly windowed door. It was small. Four rooms. And it was painted in the ideal shade of mossy green, blending in flawlessly with its surroundings.
What astonished me wasn’t the precision of the lines, or the big windows on the front of the house. It was another dog—this one yellow—bounding in my direction. It was wet and smelled like fish and dirt. I found that out firsthand when Poseidon rammed both his paws on my shoulders, knocking me to the ground and licking my face like I was dinner. As opposed to Athena, there wasn’t a hint of threat in his approach. All unabashed affection. I found my hands were in his hair and my mouth laughing.
“What am I, Poseidon? Chopped liver?” Rogue said with a laugh. The excited dog bounded off me and gave Rogue a similar welcoming but without knocking him over. I stood with Rogue’s assistance, dusting off my pants and immediately realizing I smelled like dog.
“Sorry, even after all my strict training that Lab won’t mind. Makes sense you two became fast friends,” Rogue said, pulling a twig out of my tangled long hair.
“Shush it, Rogue,” I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward his house. His house. Four steps led me to the front door. Everything was perfect. Not a flaw anywhere I could find. And my eyes were busy searching, not for flaws, but rather hungry to absorb every detail. My palm was on the handle to the front door before I caught myself. I turned, giving him a questioning look.
“Go ahead,” he okayed. “It’s not locked.”
I twisted the stainless steel handle and stepped into a room unlike any I’d ever seen. The walls were paneled in polished wood. A soft rug greeted my feet as I moved forward. My neck craned to see the exposed beams overhead on the ceiling, which was at least twenty feet high.
It was dark, but my eyes studied everything I could see around me: the stone fireplace on the far wall, the entryway which spilled into a kitchen and then the arched hallway.
“You did all this?” I asked.
He nodded, a cute coyness on his stubbled face.
“When?” I asked in astonishment.
“Every night while dream traveling. You like it?”
I turned around a full circle, my eyes sweeping over every detail it could capture within that minute. “I absolutely love it. I’ve never seen anything that feels and looks so much like…well, it’s like you captured the true idea of home in this place.”
Rogue laughed. “I knew you’d say something complex.”
“Is that all right? Was that an okay reaction?”
“Anything you said would be fine. It would be perfect.”
In that moment I wasn’t merely in love with the guy who had built that house, I was in awe of him. In awe that he was someone I knew and could reach out and touch and hold against me. I snaked my arms around Rogue’s neck, urging him down closer. He kept a smile on his face and a distance of a few inches between us. His hands pinned against my hips and his eyes held mi
ne. Finally he pulled me in close and kissed me, one so pleasing I didn’t even care that we both smelled like dog. Each time our lips met my chest tightened and my legs grew wobbly. And then as my mouth continued to move against his he said, “Hey, Em?”
“What?” I said, not particularly liking the idea of words at that moment.
“You wanna meet the goats?”
Not especially. Not right now. I sighed, utterly deflated. Rogue would let me close, but not close enough. Always interrupting our intimacy with a distraction. But inside that small house built with his hands, I knew he wasn’t going to be able to avoid me. Which was what I thought he was doing. I was wrong. Rogue wasn’t afraid of being close to me. He was hiding something.
Chapter Two
I leave Em by a cluster of trees at the last clearing before the back hills of Austin Valley. It’s where I’d met her. It’s a safe place for the horse. One she’s familiar with.
I know from my hike out of the Valley three months ago that it will take me hours to get back into town. However, I’m stronger than I was back then, my muscles toned from plowing and building and surviving off the land. It’s a beautiful thing. I realize now how Rogue got lost in it. I know now how he came to terms with his own loneliness. He fell in love with Mother Earth. Fell in love with the labor of living. It has an essence to it that you lose when the essentials are done for you. I never appreciated water until I had to carry it on my back. Never appreciated a home until I learned to build. Never understood what our animals do for us until I milked goats.
As Rogue suspected, the goats were my favorite animal on the farm. I adopted a kid whose mother didn’t survive her birth. Jasmine. Every time I came to feed the goats, she’d hide from me behind objects too small to shield her. When I found her she’d then chase me around the pen. Rogue said I spent a lot of time playing. When I told him I’d stop, he scolded me with a single look and said, “Don’t even think about it.”
