by Stasia Black
Maybe I have. The thing is, I just can’t stop thinking every second—how would Xavier want me to behave around this guy?
Which is disturbing all on its own.
I drop his hand and turn to walk around the house to the pastures. “This way.”
He follows me but like Xavier, his long legs quickly have him at my side. He also seems to know his way around the ranch and doesn’t seem to need my guidance.
“Haven’t seen you around here before.”
I don’t look over at him even though I can feel his curious gaze on me.
“Nope,” I answer without elaboration.
We walk in silence for a few moments, then he’s pressing again. “So, you know Xavier long?”
“A little while. You?” I look over at him. His eyes are very blue. With those eyes, his blond hair, and the whole rugged cowboy thing he’s got going on, I imagine he does well with the ladies out here in the middle of nowhere. Clean him up and put him in a suit and tie and he’s the kind of handsome I would have gone for once upon a time.
But now? I give him the cursory once over like he did me when he first stepped out of the truck. Wide chest, slim hips, lean thighs that are snugly hugged by well-fitting Levis… but nada, I got nothing. Not even an ounce of attraction.
“I’ve known Xavier for maybe five years now. Ever since he retired from active duty.”
Active… like the military? I look up in surprise but don’t know how to get more answers without revealing my ignorance about all things Xavier. Even as I’m dying to pump Tom for info.
But then I remember Holy Hellfire lying out in the pasture in pain. And Xavier, clutching his head. His face knotted in devastation.
God, my brain is such a fucking jumble. I can’t make heads or tails of things. Of what I want.
We pass the stable and I point on ahead. “You can get there faster than me if you hurry. Xavier was really upset. He thought the horse was in a lot of pain.”
Tom nods but doesn’t move. He stares at me hard. “You got a name?”
When I smile this time, it’s genuine but measured because I can’t get my mind off Xavier. “Sure do.” I nod out toward the pasture. “Hurry up.”
Tom tips a non-existent hat toward me. “Ma’am.”
By the time I catch up, Tom is examining the bottom of Holy Hellfire’s back leg. Xavier’s still at his head, all but hugging the horse as he whispers to him and strokes his mane.
“How is he?” My hands knot into fists in fear of the answer.
Seeing Xavier like this, on his knees and so obviously in pain for his horse is almost impossible to stomach. I want to drop to the ground and hold him in my arms, but I don’t know if he would welcome the gesture or brush me off.
Neither of them answers me.
Tom’s evaluation takes about another five minutes. Apparently it’s a fairly open and shut case. When he looks over Xavier’s way, there’s an apologetic sorrow in his face.
No. Oh no.
I glare at the vet, willing him to have another answer for us.
Tom’s eyes flick briefly toward me, then focus back on Xavier. “I’m sorry. You did everything right. He’s just been fighting this too long. With his age, it was bound to—”
“Don’t give me your bullshit spiel.” Xavier interrupts. “Just do it.” His jaw is rigid, and he stares at the ground as he says it.
“Do you want some time to—?”
“Do it,” Xavier says sharply. “I don’t want him suffering any longer than he has to.”
Tom nods solemnly and opens his black bag.
I turn my face away. I can’t watch.
A few minutes later, I hear Tom say, “All right, it should be less than a minute now.”
I force myself to turn back around. Tom’s putting a large syringe back in his bag.
Xavier has laid down beside Hellfire, his long arms wrapped completely around the horse’s neck. Hellfire takes one last breath… and then… he’s still.
Xavier freezes as well.
Then he presses his forehead to Hellfire’s. For a moment, everything’s quiet. Is Xavier praying? Communing with Hellfire’s spirit as it leaves his body? Or just quietly mourning? Xavier’s face is blank, giving nothing away.
And then he lets go of the horse and gets calmly to his feet. He ignores the wet grass stains all over his light-colored work shirt and blue jeans.
“Arrange for the disposal of the carcass, Tom. Charge my account. Call Kimball and cancel him coming out this morning. I’d appreciate it.” Next he looks my direction but not directly at me. Somewhere over the top of my left shoulder. “See to the chores today. No riding, though. That’s an order.”
Any other day, I might have balked at being ordered around like an errant puppy in front of a stranger, but today all I can do is worry about how weird and detached he’s being.
“Xavier,” I try, taking a step toward him with my hand out, but he’s turned on his heel before I can even get close, striding in the direction of the house.
“Don’t take it personally,” Tom says, coming to stand beside me as Xavier stalks off across the field. “Like I said, I’ve known him for five years. I’ve tried inviting him out for beers more times than I can count, but he always turns me down. At first I thought it was because he might not like to go out in public because of, ya know.” He gestures vaguely toward his face. “So I invited him over for a barbeque at my house, just me and him. We sort of bonded when he took in a stray dog a little while ago. He tried keeping him on the property, but the dog just kept going nuts around the horses. Eventually I adopted the little guy. Thought Xavier might want to come over and visit him. But still nothing. I guess he’s just not a people person.”
Well. The mystery of the dog kennel is finally solved. But still, why the hell is this guy telling me all this? Is he really just trying to make me feel better or is this some sad attempt at flirting?
As if he can read my thoughts, he continues quickly. “My wife would love to have you over. She’s always dying for female friends. We met in the city and I dragged her out here to the middle of nowhere because this is where I grew up and always envisioned myself living.” He smiles sheepishly. “Turns out the life of a small-town vet in Wyoming isn’t quite the sensational adventure I might have made it out to be.”
I snort. I can imagine. “I used to live in New York,” I offer.
He brightens. “Now you’ve got to meet her. She’s a Boston girl but she’s constantly complaining that no one around here has any sophistication.”
I offer him a smile even as I look worriedly in the distance at Xavier’s retreating back. “I’d like that,” I say. Not that I know if Xavier would be up for letting me go out for a social call. Which is bullshit. I frown. Some things need to change around here and some hard conversations need to be had. But not today with everything so screwed up.
I offer an awkward wave. “Look, there’s a lot to get done and I’m getting a late start.”
“Sure, sure,” Tom says, shifting his medical bag from one hand to the other. He looks back at Hellfire’s body. Paddyshack is nosing at the still form and my throat gets tight.
Carcass.
How could Xavier speak so coldly of the horse he was cradling in his arms just moments before? Was it a defense mechanism or can he really just turn off his feelings like a flip of the switch?
“How soon will you be able to…”
Tom follows my line of sight.
“I’ll have someone come remove him later today.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“I’ll let Jillian know to expect your call.”
“Oh,” my eyes flash up to him in alarm. “I don’t know. We’re really busy here and I’m not sure when…” My voice drops off. “I’ll talk to Xavier about it. But now’s just not the time.” I look back in the direction Xavier left but he’s gone now. “I’d really like to meet her someday, though,” I finish lamely.
Tom looks at me a little curio
usly but nods. “Okay, then. It’s nice to have met you.”
“Mel,” I say quickly. “My name is Mel.”
He gives me a genuine smile at this, then tempers it slightly when he looks behind me, no doubt at Hellfire’s prone body. “I’m sorry about the circumstances, but it’s a pleasure to have met you, Mel.”
***
The day is hellishly hot and all the horses are uneasy. I’m trying to be as calm around them as possible but it’s like they can all sense that’s something’s off.
And my back aches like a son of a bitch and it’s only midday. It turns out doing all the work of a horse farm on your own is incredibly difficult. Ever tried hauling a fifty-pound bag of feed when you yourself weigh less than three times that? I reminded myself to lift with my legs too late and hence, my back is killing me.
The horses are restless and not keen to have me being the one releasing them to pasture for the day instead of their beloved Xavier.
I finally go armed with carrots to the last three stalls of the horses that I don’t normally groom. Bob gets feisty and kicks the back of his stall, which naturally scares the crap out of me. Makes me appreciate Xavier’s number one rule—never approach a horse from behind or when they’re pissed off. Pretty sure I’ll respect that one for all time after seeing Bob’s powerful hind legs give the wood at the back of his stall a pounding so hard the whole stall rattles.
Finally, finally, all the horses are fed, watered, and out for the day, which means I can at last go in for lunch and to check on Xavier.
I jog in eagerly toward the house.
Only to find it empty. At least the first floor. I don’t know what I expected.
Okay, that’s not true. I expected him to be waiting with lunch, ordering me to the floor like a good little pet.
He must be upstairs in his room. I can’t exactly imagine Xavier taking the day off. The horses are out so there are stalls to be mucked out now.
Besides, what would he do with a day off? Lie in bed all day? That just doesn’t seem to compute. Surf the internet for porn? Ugh, that’s plainly a little offensive when I’m right here. Why go to all the trouble of acquiring me if that’s what he’s into?
Or maybe he left.
He does drive off once every couple weeks on Sundays for several hours to get groceries. But would he really just leave without saying anything?
I jog up the stairs to the third floor. One thing I have to say for all this grueling farm work, it’s getting me in insane shape. I’ve never been so muscular or felt so physically strong in my life.
When I reach the top of the stairs, I see that the door to Xavier’s room is shut. These days, he usually only shuts it when we’re inside. I try the knob. It’s locked.
I knock tentatively.
“Xavier?” I call. “It’s me.”
Duh. Because there are so many other people out here who would be in his house knocking at his bedroom door.
No answer.
I knock harder. “Xavier, open up. Let’s eat lunch.”
I wait for several long seconds.
Still nothing.
I knock again, even harder.
“Leave me alone!”
I step back from the door at his roar.
Okay. I swallow hard. So he’s home. Good to know.
Then I turn around and run back down the stairs.
Chapter 16
Xavier stays locked up in his room for four whole days.
Leaving me to do all the work of keeping up a horse farm on my own. I drop into bed each night exhausted and heartsick. Sleeping in a bed without his big body beside me feels wrong now. Which makes me furious. Come to think of it, pretty much everything makes me furious these days.
Like the motherfucking too-dry tasteless scrambled eggs I shove into my mouth on the morning of the fifth day. I was spacing out while I cooked them, wondering about a certain asshole who’s decided he just gets to check out while I’m left here as his slave doing all the work of two or three people. He’s insane trying to run this place by himself. The horses need exercise and him telling me not to ride them is bullshit.
Well, screw him. If he wants me to obey him, he can goddamned well get his ass out here and tell me himself.
Because I’m out here feeding his goddamned horses all on my own.
Before sunrise, with a flashlight.
I push into the stable and yank on the cord that turns on a couple of lights.
“Good morning. Yep, still just me,” I announce. “Your Dad is still being a piss-ant and leaving everything to Auntie Mel. I know, I know, I’m not nearly as entertaining as Mr. Frowny-pants, but you’ll survive.”
Then I begin the arduous task of feeding and watering everyone.
I approach Lulu’s stall. “Don’t even give me your attitude this morning, Miss Thang. I promise you I will out-bitch you today.”
For once, she just steps back like a good little pony and lets me give her fresh feed and water.
“That’s right, you respect your elders.”
I’m just standing back up and stepping out of her stall when I feel it.
A cramp.
I cringe and grab my abdomen.
Shit.
I close my eyes and hang my head.
And then all my bravado sweeps out in one swift wave. I slump down on the stable floor and start to cry.
If I’m cramping that means I’m getting my period.
And if I’m getting my period that means I’m not pregnant.
The tears turn to sobs.
Above me, Lulu noses at the top of her stall, making a repeated bump, bump noise. I look up through my tear-heavy lashes and smile at her.
She’s picking up on my mood and seems anxious. I pull myself up off the ground. “Thanks, hon. We ladies gotta stick together, huh?” I give her nose an affectionate rub. She leans into me.
She was the last I had to feed, so I decide to head back to the house to rest for a bit before turning them out for the day.
About halfway there, my anger lights back up.
Because screw Xavier.
I do not feel like mucking out the damn stalls today. It’s backbreaking work and my back always aches already when I’m on the rag. I’ve been absolutely exhausted the past four nights. I refuse to do all this work by myself for another day.
Yes, Holy Hellfire dying was sad. Devastating even.
But there are nine horses that are still alive who need him.
Not to mention one measly little human woman.
I never asked to be here. He’s the one who basically kidnapped me. So he’s stuck with me. He wanted to be my goddamned Master? Well, he can’t just bugger off from the role whenever he feels like it.
I stomp up the stairs. Another brief little cramp hits and I grab my abdomen as I go. Ugh, I don’t even want to think about the fact that I’m probably bleeding all over my underwear.
He’s got the damn tampons. Another reason to break his stupid door down if I have to. I don’t exactly know how I’ll accomplish that… but never underestimate the power of a pissed off woman!
I pound on his door repeatedly with a closed fist.
“Open up, goddamn you,” I yell. “I’ve got cramps which means I’m getting my period, and if you don’t open this door, so help me God, I’ll—”
The door swings open before I can complete my threat. A good thing because I don’t know exactly how I was going to finish that sentence.
Xavier looks like shit.
Pale, gaunt, and unshaven. His hair is unwashed and wild and is that… whisky? He stinks like some sort of strong alcohol. His eyes are bloodshot with it.
He immediately reaches for me, dragging me inside the room.
“Wait, I—”
He lays me down on the bed and draws down my jeans. Then, to my utter embarrassment, he examines my underwear. It’s one of those situations where I want to cover my face, but I’m curious, so I look down. There are just a couple spots of red on my panties.
His face comes up, strained and alarmed.
“I’m probably just starting,” I explain, feeling my face heat. “It’s light at the beginning.”
He turns away and goes to his desk. He wakes up his laptop and then quickly types in his password. I pull my underwear back up and then sit on the bed, looking over his shoulder. He’s pulled up a calendar. From the bed, I can see the title of the large calendar reads, Melanie’s Cycle.
My mouth drops open. Holy crap, he’s charting my… That’s just—
“Your period should have started three days ago.” He turns back to look at me. “You’ve always been very regular. Your records said so.”
Oh my God, there’s just so much to unpack there. He’s said from the start that he had access to my records, but I guess it was never confirmed before now that he actually somehow hacked or got access to my freaking medical records. How the hell did he—
And then there’s the part about how my period was supposed to have started several days ago. Because he’s right. I’m one of those rare women who’s like clockwork. Every 28 days. You can set your calendar by it.
If I’m late, then that means…
I blink, looking down at my abdomen.
Xavier’s light-years ahead of me, because he’s already on the phone, barking out orders. “Drop everything and get out here as soon as possible. No, I don’t want to hear excuses. I pay so I can be your first priority. I expect you here within 45 minutes. Take the goddamned chopper if you have to!” He slams the phone down.
Then he’s rushing back over to me. “I’m so sorry. Lie down. God, lie down.”
He urges me onto my back on the bed, then he lifts shaking hands toward my belly. He stops just before making contact, though.
“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath and runs his hand through his hair instead. For a brief second, tortured eyes come up to meet mine, full of regret and self-recrimination. Then he gets up and turns away. He stalks off toward the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t slam it at least. Moments later, I hear the spray of the shower.
I drop my head back to the bed, my mind swirling a hundred miles an hour.
Could I really be pregnant?
