No Better Man

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No Better Man Page 9

by Sara Richardson


  “So what do you say, dear?” Elsie asked with a hopeful smile. “Will you take breakfast out to Bryce?”

  “Of course,” she answered quickly to ward off any suspicions the woman had about what had happened between them.

  Yeah, right. His mom’s knowing glance proved it was too late for that.

  “Wonderful,” the woman purred. “Out you go now.” She carefully placed the basket in Avery’s hands and shooed her to the back door. “You tell him I said those horses need to get out today, you hear? If he tries to argue, send him in here to me.”

  Despite the apprehension building in her stomach, Avery laughed. “I’ll tell him.” Not that it would do any good. Once he saw her, he might take off before she could say a word.

  On the back concrete stoop, Elsie gently patted her shoulder. “Have fun, dear. The stables are just down that path.” She pointed to a strip of dirt that had been worn into the tall grasses behind the lodge. “Good luck!”

  Yeah. Luck. Her legs wobbled as she made her way down the steps. Something told her she’d need more than luck to get through to Bryce.

  *

  The stables sat in a clearing next to a narrow brook that gushed in a shallow crevasse of the land. With her feet scuffing the dirt, Avery ambled toward the log-sided building about twenty yards ahead. It resembled the lodge, constructed with the same log beams, that were now cracked and peeling. Three wide stalls opened in the front, and a horse whinnied from somewhere inside.

  All around her, the outside world was still waking up. Pinkish streaks looped and whirled across an opalescent sky. Stillness smothered everything underneath an awestruck blanket. Not even a bird chirped. She breathed in the slight honeyed scent of wet grass, hoping it would calm her.

  It didn’t.

  Anticipation closed in on her, making her breaths shallow and her heart pound harder. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the way Bryce had touched her in the truck, about the way his lips had catapulted her into a new realm of awareness she’d never before experienced. If he hadn’t pulled away and left her sitting there, she was pretty sure she would have gone anywhere with him…

  No, no. She couldn’t think that way. Not right now. Not when she was about to spend the morning with him. She had to handle him just like she’d handled Tommy Atchison when he’d threatened to pull out of the London project, just like she’d handled Larrisa Payne when she’d waffled on the merger. He was a business associate, nothing more. A potential partner. At least that was how she looked at anyone who sat on the other side of the negotiation table.

  Approaching the stables, her feet tread carefully. Just outside the doors, she stopped and peered into the dimness.

  Bryce had his back to her. He stood next to a glossy brown horse, hands working to secure a bridle around its muzzle. His movements were calm and gentle, not like they’d been with her in the truck: desperate and commanding and powerful.

  She gathered a breath, then let it out slowly, taking the opportunity to study him. In the dim light his profile looked softer. His dark hair curled down over his ears, carefree but somehow right. She watched him smooth his worn hands down the horse’s neck. They were careful and precise.

  “Ahem.” She cleared her throat to announce her presence because standing there watching him would not help her maintain a strict level of professionalism. Already, her heart had started that slow melt in her chest.

  Bryce glanced over and instantly pulled his features into that hardened mask he’d worn the first time she met him. “What’re you doing here?” He turned back to the horse like he was afraid to look at her.

  She was afraid, too. There. She admitted it. She feared him. Feared what he had made her feel with one kiss. Feared what he made her want.

  But she refused to hide from him the way he’d hidden from her. He obviously didn’t want to discuss the kiss. That was fine. They didn’t have to. She didn’t plan to mention it. Only one topic of conversation mattered. So she strode over to him and set the picnic basket on a nearby chair, feigning confidence and authority, praying he wouldn’t see through it. “We’re going on a ride, apparently,” she said with a smirk. “Elsie’s orders.”

  His hand paused on the horse’s wide girth. “Excuse me?”

  “Your mom said the horses need to get out. And I’ve been dying to see the view she keeps talking about.” Her heart quaked. “She said you’d take me riding.”

  “She did, huh?” The words were strained, as if he had a hard time relaxing his jaw. He turned to face her, took his time looking her up and down. “Have you ridden much?” he asked with a glimmer of amusement in those dark green eyes.

  She tipped up her chin. “Sure. I’ve ridden.” Once. Probably not a good idea to tell him that the one horse she’d ridden in her life had bucked her off. She’d landed smack dab in the middle of a mud puddle and cracked her tailbone. Guess who’d had to walk around with an inflated donut for the rest of summer camp? Her gaze darted toward the horses. They were huge. Bulky. Unpredictable. A sudden case of heartburn nearly gagged her. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “I guess they could use a ride. Just a quick one. Up the ridge and back.” Bryce swiped his hands down the sides of his worn jeans, and she couldn’t help but notice how perfectly they fit his sturdy form.

  Look up, she commanded herself, before he catches you checking out his body. By the time her eyes found his, she knew it was too late.

  The beginnings of a smile softened his jaw. “You can ride Buttercup.” He strode to the other horse, a grayish Appaloosa mottled with brown spots. Stray whiskers sprouted around the mare’s mouth like an old man’s beard. She seemed content to stand statue-still and stare outside. Her tail swooshed and scattered a colony of flies.

  “She’s still young, but she’ll do okay.” He swept his hand down her mane and patted her withers.

  Buttercup snorted and nuzzled his shoulder, as if begging for another gentle touch.

  The smile that altered Bryce’s face tempted her to cozy up next to him, too. He had the best smile—straight white teeth and those curved, skilled lips…

  “What’d she send for breakfast?” Bryce asked, looking over at the picnic basket.

  “An assortment of yummy things.” Grateful for a much needed distraction, she walked over to the basket and picked it up. Elsie’s “to go” breakfast looked more like a five-star buffet spread, but nerves already filled her stomach to the point of slight discomfort. There’d be no room for anything else as long as she was with Bryce.

  “Here.” He tossed her a canvas bag with a long strap. “Pack it all in the saddlebag. We’ll eat at the top.”

  “Sounds good.” She strained her throat to keep her voice even and professional. She was a professional, and this was a business meeting, not a romantic picnic on the top of a mountain. That would be a date.

  And she could not go on a date with Bryce Walker.

  While she packed the food, Bryce readied Buttercup. She caught sight of his strong arms, hoisting and fastening down the saddle, right as he looked over. Great. He was going to think she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.

  “All finished?” He approached and held out his hands.

  “Yep.” She placed the bag in his grasp, taking extra care not to let her skin graze his, then drifted toward Buttercup in order to maintain a healthy distance between them.

  “I’ll lead on Hooligan.” He patted the brown horse’s rump. “Buttercup usually follows him around. Should be an easy ride.”

  Right. Sure. Easy. She examined the worn leather saddle while Bryce hopped onto Hooligan’s back like Evel Knievel mounting a motorcycle.

  Show off.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Ready?”

  Her gaze shifted back to the saddle. How was she supposed to get on that thing? “Sure. Yeah. I’m ready.” She hoisted her foot into the stirrup and gripped the saddle horn, but her hand slipped. “Whoa.” The stirrup trapped her foot. She hopped to maintain her balance, t
ugging on her knee in an attempt to free her boot. It must’ve looked like some crazy Yoga move.

  “Need some help?” Clearly enjoying her predicament, Bryce dismounted.

  “No. I’m fine.” A couple more hops, then she clawed her way up on that saddle before he could touch her. “There. See?” Perspiration stung her forehead. “I’m good.” She pasted on a smile, but a jolt of fear bolted her legs down around Buttercup’s large middle. She was so high, so out of control. Gripping the saddle horn, she tried not to look down. Didn’t they say that horses could sense things? Like danger? And a change in the weather? And extreme terror? She breathed deeply but the mountains didn’t have nearly enough oxygen. Hold it together.

  As if sensing her hesitation, Bryce placed the reins in her hands.

  His touch zinged through her. Perfect. Just what she needed when she was supposed to be concentrating.

  His hand closed around hers and made her spine go limp.

  “Hold ’em loose. She’ll do most of the work.” Still watching her, he backed away.

  “Got it.” Somehow she formed her lips into another convincing smile, but the manufactured confidence didn’t reach deep inside. The whole summer camp incident was apparently still too fresh.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll take it easy.” He jammed his foot into Hooligan’s stirrup and swung his leg over like it was nothing. “All right, Hoolie, let’s go.” He clicked his tongue and glanced back.

  Buttercup didn’t budge. So much for following Hooligan around.

  “Nudge her with your heels.”

  She eased her heels into the horse’s ribs. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go.”

  Nothing.

  “Buttercup. Go.” She punctuated the command with a sharper clip of her heels.

  With an annoyed whinny, Buttercup toddled forward, her hooves clomping the packed dirt in a granny’s rhythm.

  “Are you sure she’s young?” Because she moved like her hips were inflamed.

  “I’m sure. Sometimes she gets stiff. I rescued her from a shady breeder out near Carbondale,” he answered, wielding the reins like a pro.

  Of course he rescued animals. Just when she thought he couldn’t get any more amazing…

  Buttercup ambled after Hooligan out of the stables, through an aspen grove, and up to a narrow, rutted road at the back of the lodge.

  Avery held the reins in both hands, somehow still maintaining a healthy grip on the saddle horn. Her body rocked with Buttercup’s lazy swagger. Okay. I can do this. Like Bryce had said, Buttercup would do most of the work. She just had to focus on not falling off. And on that other thing she was supposed to do. Close the deal.

  “Come on, Buttercup.” She encouraged the horse with another prod to the ribs. Buttercup jerked her head and gave Avery what she swore was a dirty look, but picked up the pace until they’d caught up to Hooligan. Bryce peered over his shoulder. “Everything okay back there?”

  She pasted on a smile. “Yeah. Of course. We’re great, aren’t we, Buttercup?” She reached down and patted her neck. “Best buddies.”

  The horse tossed her head and snorted.

  “Obviously.” He turned back around and prodded Hooligan up the trail.

  Wait a minute. Was he laughing at her?

  He was. He was laughing so hard his shoulders shook. Well, she’d show him. With another nudge of her heels, she attempted to remind Buttercup who was boss. Reluctantly, the horse followed Hooligan up a series of switchbacks.

  They climbed higher, a strong wind biting at Avery’s cheeks. As they crested the rise, three mountains poked up over the distant horizon, their razor-sharp granite peaks dusted with a light powdery snow. Against their dark outline, the sky brightened into a flawless sea of sapphires, the sun glinting and sparkling with a priceless radiance. “Whoa. Whoa, girl,” she whispered, tugging Buttercup to a stop. The view was so perfect it looked like a postcard.

  “It’s even better at the top.” Bryce’s comment startled her.

  At some point, he’d stopped Hooligan to wait for her.

  Their eyes locked and Avery’s heart felt light and free, like it might float away. Say something. She inhaled until her heart settled back into place. “Yeah. Wow.” Lame. That sounded so lame. She fluffed the reins until Buttercup stuttered up to Hooligan’s side and tried again. “It must’ve been amazing to grow up in a place like this.”

  “It was.” He directed his gaze to the horizon and clipped his heels into Hooligan’s sides.

  Buttercup lowered her head and clomped after Bryce’s horse. Avery blew out an exasperated sigh for both of them. Why did he do that? Constantly retreat from her, from a real conversation?

  “Come on, Buttercup,” she muttered through clenched teeth. She wasn’t about to let him off that easy. The horse must’ve realized she meant business because her trusty steed chugged up to Hooligan’s side and fell in stride. She peered over at Bryce. “I can’t imagine that kind of childhood. I grew up in the city.”

  “Huh.”

  The half-hearted grunt only made her more determined. “Have you ever lived anywhere else?”

  Eyes still focused on some unseen horizon, Bryce reached down and patted Hooligan’s neck. “Nah. I’ve traveled a lot. Lived in Boulder while I went to CU. But this has always been home.”

  She took in the view again. With a vista like that, she couldn’t blame him for never leaving. “So what did you study? In school?”

  “Business management.”

  That made sense. Especially if he planned to run his grandparents’ ranch. She wanted to ask more questions, but Buttercup stumbled over a rock, knocking her off balance. She clamped her hands back to the saddle horn. “Whoa, girl.”

  Bryce tugged the reins. “Easy, Hooligan.” Both horses slowed. “It gets steep up here. Hold on tight. She’ll work out her footing.”

  Avery’s gaze lowered to the rocky, uneven ground beneath Buttercup’s hooves. She wanted to steer the horse like Bryce guided Hooligan, but she had no idea how. Not to mention…every time she looked down, a wave of dizziness crashed her focus. The ground seemed awfully far away. All it would take was one swift movement from Buttercup and she’d be back on a donut.

  In front of her, Hooligan crisscrossed a path up the rutted incline.

  Buttercup stumbled again, horseshoes clanging against rock. Avery squeezed tighter. Tried to keep the grimace off her face.

  As soon as the road leveled, she prodded Buttercup back up to Hooligan’s side. “So after school, you came back here?” And got married? She didn’t have the guts to say it.

  “Yeah. By that time, Gramps and Gran were ready to retire.” Maybe it was the vast openness surrounding them, or the fact that he seemed so comfortable on the horse, but something in his demeanor had changed. He looked at her more, and his words were less guarded.

  “They took off to Florida and left it all to me.”

  The horses snorted and chugged, pulling their way up another incline, but Buttercup fell behind again. Lovely. He’d finally started to tell her his story, and she couldn’t keep up with him.

  “Okay, girl.” She rubbed a hand up and down the horse’s neck like she’d seen Bryce do. “Let’s get moving. Work with me here.” She squeezed Buttercup’s ribs with her heels.

  The horse trotted up to Hooligan. They ambled side by side under a canopy of golden aspen leaves backlit by the sun. A breeze trembled through the trees, shimmering the leaves into a dance. Then the wind picked up and set them free. They fluttered down in a gentle rain.

  “Wow,” she whispered, holding out her palm.

  “We should keep going,” Bryce mumbled.

  Avery closed her hand around an aspen leaf and studied him. Something haunted him. She knew because she’d mirrored that same look, hollow and unseeing. It was the look of a survivalist who’d drawn an invisible curtain over a deep pain.

  Warmth webbed across her chest. She held tight to the reins though they were useless in her hands. What she really wanted to do was
touch him, to ease the turmoil that crept into his eyes so often.

  She wanted to set him free.

  Except she knew from years of watching her father that Bryce would have to choose that path himself. It couldn’t be forced on him. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t make him a whole person again.

  She had to do the only thing she could for him: help him start over. Give him the money he needed to make his dreams come true.

  Horse hooves pounded through the quiet. Clomp, clomp clomp. Again, she eased Buttercup to Bryce’s side. “Hey. I know you’re sick of hearing me talk about our offer.”

  He gave her a stern look of confirmation, which she ignored. She had to.

  “But, Bryce, think of what—”

  A siren sounded, loud and piercing.

  Her phone!

  Buttercup jolted to a stop. The horse stood eerily still for a minute, then staggered back, back, back.

  Back?

  The siren ringtone blared in a relentless screech.

  Bryce jerked Hooligan to a stop and turned. “What the hell is that noise?”

  “My phone. It’s in my backpack.” She tried to shimmy out of the straps but almost lost her balance and had to steady herself against the horse’s back.

  After a pause, the siren wailed again.

  Buttercup snorted. Her front hooves pawed the ground.

  Avery jiggled the reins, like she was some small kitchen appliance that had quit working. “What’s up with her?”

  “Shut that thing off!” Bryce eased Hooligan closer and reached out a hand. “Whoa. Whoa, girl.”

  Buttercup continued her agitated dance.

  Her heart plummeted. “What’s wrong with her? What’s going on?” Despite her best attempt to remain calm, her voice shrilled.

  His lips tightened. “Take it easy. She’ll sense your fear.”

  “Take it easy? That’d be a lot easier if she’d stand still!” She jerked back the reins.

 

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