“Did you really ride her all the way out here?” He asks, his tone betraying his surprise.
Like a mute, Flor nods again, her brain unable to process words over the pounding of her heart. What is it about him that makes her this nervous? She rolls back her shoulders and stands. She walks slowly over to his horse, the same one he had been training a couple of weeks before, and pets it, her hand moving over and around his ears. She speaks softly to the horse in Portuguese, the only language that comes to her when she talks to horses.
Without another word, she walks over and gently touches her mare, who turns and follows Flor until they reach Collin and his horse.
“Horses are easy. People less so,” Flor finally says.
Standing out of the path of the sun, she notices his eyes don’t leave hers. She holds his stare. He may be a great trainer, but if it’s one thing she’s confident about, it’s her ability to handle a horse.
“What do you want to learn?”
“Everything you know about training. Maybe dealing with difficult horses.” And taciturn people like you.
Collin looks off toward the horizon, giving this careful consideration.
“Look, it’s not like you have to babysit me,” she reassures him. “If I get in your way, just tell me, and I’ll go back to working the stables. I don’t mind.” That’s mostly true. The grueling work is a great way to forget about her issues and get through the day. But truth be told—at least to herself—she wants to know him, peel away at the enigmatic layers to see if there’s anything underneath. She thinks that perhaps with her luck there won’t be, and she’ll be ready to move on at the end of the summer.
“Meet me in the stable tomorrow morning at 6 sharp.”
Chapter 21
Flor rubs her eyes as she drags herself toward the stables. Two espressos and she’s still barely awake. Going to bed thinking about seeing Collin the following morning wasn’t conducive to perfect sleep. Instead, she laid in bed, playing over their brief encounter in the field. She dissected every word and look. Flor realized, she’s got it bad for him.
Around 2:30 in the morning, she got out of bed and made her way to the library where she had left a copy of Great Expectations on the large, round walnut coffee table. By the time Estella insults the young Pip, who declares he will never again cry for her, Flor fell into a fitful sleep.
Now, a mere couple of hours later, the young woman can only hope the day won’t be as challenging as she’s anticipating. Of course, she’s wrong. Like stable work, training is extremely physical. Unlike working in a stable, it’s also mentally challenging.
“Connecting with your horse is key,” Collin tells her that morning as they pass through the stable. He leads her off to the right where the rescue horses are kept. Only experienced stable hands work this area. Gecimar had kept her with the trained animals.
“Mmmhmm,” Flor acknowledges, not appreciating his telling her something she already knows.
“In the case of a horse that’s been abused, trust is the most important component of your relationship. If you don’t earn it, the horse won’t work with you.”
“How do you do achieve that?” She asks.
“Time, a lot of patience, and . . . .” He stops before the stall.
“And?”
Collin doesn’t answer her.
Flor moves to open the door, but Collin places his hand over hers to stop her. “Not yet,” he says in a low voice.
The young woman suppresses her shock. Little bolts of electricity shoot right through, forcing every little hair on her body to stand up. Though he quickly removes his hand, she can still feel the sensation of his warm touch.
She lightly caresses the hand he touched with her other, as if to calm the feeling, and then peers over the door into the stall. Seemingly out of nowhere, a black stallion, over fifteen hands in height, rears up in the shadows. Flor takes a step back in fear, adrenalin coursing through her veins.
Collin jumps in front of her. “A shelter brought Casper to us malnourished and weak. Some hikers found him locked in an abandoned shed.”
“How long did it take for him to regain his strength?”
“Weeks, but he’s still inconsolable.”
“Why Casper?”
Collin looks away from the horse and at Flor. This is the first time she’s been able to see him up close. His dark eyes appear more amber, with gold flecks.
“He was a ghost of a horse when he was found,” the trainer replies simply.
“Are we going to work with Casper today?”
Collin shakes his head. “We’ll start you off easy. You get a young horse, a new arrival. She’s got a nervous temperament being away from home, so we have to get her ready for her new owner.”
Flor follows his hand, which is gesturing toward another stall. She walks over and peers into it cautiously into it. “She’s absolutely stunning,” Flor remarks. Tall, and dark brown, with a distinguishable white spot on her front right leg, the horse reminds Flor of a horse she’d had when she was a teenager, Jasmine. In the past, she would’ve begged her father to buy the horse. Well, all she would’ve needed to do was ask since her father bought her anything she wanted. It’s that want she feels now. What she’d give to have this horse. She’d name her Dama da Noite after the flowers that grow around her family’s fazenda.
Instead Flor opens the stall door and begins to speak softly to her. The song that rang through her head the day before returns to her, filling her mind and emptying her thoughts of anything else.
She doesn’t notice Collin watching her talk to the horse. She’s in her own world now, transported back to her own farm, surrounded by horses and feeling every bit in her own element. It doesn’t take long before she coaxes the mare out of her stall and into the paddock.
Flor can’t help but feel proud for getting this far, but it doesn’t last. Once outside, the horse becomes a different creature. “What’s the matter?” She asks Collin, who’s sitting up on the wooden fence.
“Some horses get nervous when they’re in an open space and act out in fear. Give her some space but stay where you are.”
The encouragement in his voice reinforces Flor’s resolve. She doesn’t care about impressing him as much as she wants what’s best for the horse. Flor watches as the horse circles the paddock a few times, changing direction mid-stride. She summons the experiences deeply rooted inside her. She spent enough time on her farm with enough horses. Somewhere lies the ability to handle with this.
Flor holds out an arm and without taking her eyes off the horse says to Collin, “Toss me your rope.”
It lands in front of her feet. She waits until the horse stops circling. She doesn’t know how long since time has ceased to exist for her. Flor slowly approaches the horse and lavishes it with her warm words. Her hands follow reassuringly, running over the horse whose head lowers slightly before picking up and moving again.
Flor taps into an immense reservoir of patience she didn’t know she had. With the rope, she continues to guide the horse’s movements until the mare is able to stand still and be touched.
Collin remains on the fence, watching, never moving from his position. As the afternoon light begins to fade and blend into purple, red and orange colors, Flor is as fatigued as the horse.
“You can quit now,” Collin calls out.
Flor shakes her head, her stomach growling, her arms weary. “Get me a saddle.” The beautiful Brazilian is obsessed. She wants to make this horse hers, even for a day.
Collin tosses one toward her. Flor looks back over her shoulder briefly and smirks. All day he’s been like this. Throwing equipment like he throws out his pithy advice. The rest was left up to her.
But it’s paid off, she realizes as she mounts Dama da Noite. She leans down over the horse and rubs her neck and whispers her praise and thank you’s over and over. Flor knows Collin had made it easy, giving her a horse he figured she could handle. But she alone did it.
Hours turned in
to days as they worked with the handful of rescues that week. Dama da Noite did prove to be easy compared to the others. The black stallion was a collective effort, which really meant Flor watched as Collin wrestled with the strong horse. Flor was beginning to miss the rhythm and ease of stable work. Training was the most exhausting yet rewarding work she’d ever undertaken.
At the end of the week, Flor drags herself slowly back to her house, her legs like heavy bricks from standing for hours on end. Collin appears on the path ahead of her. She slows but doesn’t stop, fearing she might not be able to start moving again.
“You left quickly tonight,” he says, falling in step with her.
“It’s been a long week,” Flor replies, untying her ponytail and running a hand through her long hair. “What do you want?” She sighs, realizing how annoyed she must sound, but she doesn’t have it in her to apologize. She’ll let him interpret it however he wants. After working with him for a week, she can at least be honest with herself. Apparently, he’s not interested, and she’s coming to accept it.
“It’s time to send your mare to her new owners.”
The words make Flor stop. She’d grown attached to Dama da Noite, as she called her, and it was obvious to Collin. Flor reaches past Collin and plucks a stem of white freesia from a plant to his right. She brings it to her nose to smell the sweet scent. “When does she leave?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Collin shrugs, his eyes revealing nothing. “We didn’t think she’d be ready this quickly, but you did a lot for her this week.”
Flor begins to take off toward the stable. “Then I should say good-bye.”
Collin puts his hand on her arm, his strong grip drawing her back to him. Whereas before the light touch of his finger had shot currents through her, his firm hand on Flor makes her entire world glow. The warm feeling starts in her chest and radiates throughout her whole body. This time she can’t hide it. Her gasp is audible. The young woman looks down at his hand, and he releases her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you like that.”
I’m not, she wants to say, but instead she folds her arms in front of her and tries to ignore the pulses radiating through her body.
“Do you want to come with me to deliver her? It’s a long drive, but I think you deserve it. If you’d like to, of course.” He clears his throat.
“When do we leave?” She asks.
“Early tomorrow morning. It’s about fifteen hours to East Helena, so we’ll stay overnight. We should be back late Sunday night.”
Flor pretends to consider this, even though she already knows the answer. Hell yes, she wants to scream.
Instead she answers, “Alright. That should be fine.” The evenness in her voice surprises her. Flor glances up at Collin, his expression unchanged. No, she decides, he doesn’t have to like her the way she likes him. Whatever this is—acquaintanceship, friendship, or coworker relationship—is enough.
“What time should I be ready?”
“4 a.m. too early for you?”
“Not at all. See you then.” Flor turns to head back toward the house. The lightness in her step makes her feel like she’s floating.
Chapter 22
“Don’t you ever listen to music?” Flor complains, fighting her exhaustion. The prospect of being in an enclosed space with Collin for a fifteen-hour drive was enough to cause her insomnia the night before. She imagined the conversations they’d have and how she’d finally be able to get to know him. However, the only voice heard during the first two hours into their drive was that of the navigation system.
“Sometimes,” he says, his hand loosely gripping the top part of the steering wheel.
She pulls out her phone and a pocket-sized wireless speaker. Without asking, she starts playing a road trip playlist she had put together. It’s the most random playlist Flor had ever created since she didn’t know what music Collin likes. She didn’t imagine he’d prefer silence.
“You can’t possibly like this,” he complains by the time the second song comes on. “You weren’t even born when it came out.”
“I will have you know I was one when it was popular,” she replies smiling. Flor kicks off her boots, rests her feet on the dashboard, and sings along. “I don’t remember of course, but I had this nanny until I was about seven who loved everything by Madonna. So whenever my parents weren’t around, which was pretty much all the time, we’d sing and dance in my room.”
Flor bites her lip, realizing she may have given away a bit too much information. She glances over at Collin whose eyes remain focused on the empty road, the sun just starting to come up over the horizon.
“In any case,” she says, “you couldn’t have been more than three or four.”
Collin holds up five fingers.
He’s four years older. Now we’re getting somewhere. “When’s your birthday?” Flor asks.
“Why do you want to know?” He asks.
“I don’t know. It’s just one of those things you ask a person when you don’t know much about them.”
Collin remains silent.
Flor scoffs. “Oh, so it’s too personal? Like you don’t want me to know? It’s not like I was going to work out your entire astrological chart or something. It’s just a date on a calendar.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “You won’t let it go will you?”
She shakes her head. “Twelve hours to go on this trip. I’ll get it out of you at some point.”
Collin relents. “It’s June 29th.”
Flor sucks in a breath. “That’s tomorrow.”
He nods. “Yup.”
“Then why are you here? You should be celebrating, not delivering a horse to Montana.”
“It’s tomorrow so I wouldn’t be celebrating until then. Besides, I’m not so into parties.”
Flor shakes her head. “Where I’m from, birthdays are always a big deal. Rich or poor, young or old, you celebrate life. I can never understand why so many people in this country downplay birthdays. I used to celebrate my birthday for a week.”
But that was all in the distant past. At Belle Grove, she had been grateful for Izzy making an effort and taking her out on her birthdays. That was about as much as Flor could’ve hoped for considering her circumstances, without family and any real friends, except perhaps for Izzy herself. At boarding school, she’d always made a big deal about birthdays when it came to her friends. The celebrations brought back the best memories of home for her, the large festas with elaborate decorations, food and entertainment. All of her friends and family would be there and everyone was happy, or at least her parents appeared to be happy.
She picks up her phone and changes the music to something more mellow to go with her now more reflective mood.
“Bon Iver,” he says. “Much better.”
Chapter 23
“I’m happy to drive for a while,” Flor offers as they’re leaving the diner where they had stopped for lunch.
“Can you handle a stick shift?” He asks.
Flor gives him a look as if that was a ridiculous question. Of course she can. In fact, she’s driven more powerful trucks and sports cars than the one parked in front of them. Despite having chauffers, it was important to her father that his children be competent behind the wheel. For him, that meant hiring a well-known racecar driver to teach Flor and Felipe on a closed track in Germany. But that’s not something Flor’s going to share as she gets into the driver’s side.
“Were you planning on getting into Montana tonight?” She asks.
“I don’t think it’s realistic. We’re taking the longer route so we can stop near Idaho Falls.” Collin takes off his hat and runs his hand through his hair. The temperature must have risen at least ten degrees since lunch. Flor sheds her long sleeve shirt and lowers her window.
“There is air conditioning,” he points out.
She shakes her head and smiles. “I’m not a fan.”
> He chuckles. “That’s a terrible pun.”
“But it made you laugh.” And she liked the sound of it.
Dusk covers the small town by the time they pull into the motel parking lot. The look on Collin’s face when he returns from the manager’s office is grim.
“There’s a rodeo in town.”
“And?”
“We’re lucky to get a room.”
“Should we look elsewhere?”
He shakes his head. “I tried. This is the only place with a vacancy where we can board a horse.”
Flor bites down on her lower lip. A part of her would like to think this is more than coincidence—perhaps an invitation to explore some unspoken desire. But if she’s to believe the signs, that desire is unrequited. She sighs. “Alright then.”
Chapter 24
“You love riding her, don’t you?” Collin asks as he watches Flor brush the mare.
“Yeah, I do,” she replies quietly. It doesn’t surprise her how in one week she could become so attached. She’s just never had to let go this quickly. Flor stops brushing and turns to Collin. “Thank you for letting me come along.”
He doesn’t respond. Instead he grabs a saddle from the bed of the truck and places it over the horse. “I think you deserve one last ride, don’t you?”
Flor smiles and throws her leg over. She reaches down for his hand and says, “If you come with me.”
The feel of his strong chest pressing against her back is more contact than she had anticipated. Flor loosens her grip on the reins, realizing that, in his close proximity, she had been nervously holding them tight in order to keep from touching him.
“You’ve done well,” he says. “She’s become quite adaptable.”
Flor smiles but doesn’t reply right away. At last she says, “She loves to run, you know. She’s faster than you think.”
“Alright then. Let’s see what she’s got.” He reaches for the reins, his arms brushing against Flor’s, his breath hot on her skin. The sensation is overwhelming. Flor had tried to push it out of her mind, but the energy flowing between them is too strong to ignore. How could he possibly not feel it? She’s beginning to think her crush was playing tricks on her, and that her feelings are inventing these physical experiences for her alone.
Blossoming Flower (Wildflowers Book 1) Page 7
