Breaking the Reins

by Juliana Haygert

  “There is!” he shouted. “Ronny always talked about adding another top-notch team to the club. He hasn’t found one until now. Ah, if I knew this would happen, I wouldn’t have agreed to this damned exhibition game in the first place.”

  I took the kettle from the stovetop and poured boiling water into a mug. Acting as if we were talking about the weather was better than worrying about the odd way he was behaving. “You don’t know that. Maybe it would have happened one way or another.”

  “I don’t care!” He punched the island and I jumped back, startled. “It’s my club, my games, my career!”

  “Eric, please …”

  “You know what’s worse? If they do well, the contract can be extended.”

  “Maybe they deserve it?”

  “Deserve it? Latin scum do not deserve anything!”

  “I’m sure they aren’t scum. In fact, I heard they’re pretty rich in Brazil.”

  Squinting, Eric walked to me, each step more menacing than the other. “You heard it? Are you interested in their life now?”

  I took a step back. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know how the people at the club gossip. I just heard some men talking about them.” I sat down on a stool, refusing to let his actions affect me. “Here”—I pushed the tea box toward him—“choose one and sit down with me.”

  “I don’t want tea! I want them gone.” With a growl, he swept his arm over the island, throwing the box, the mugs, and the kettle on the floor. I jumped from the stool, my eyes wide and my hands shaking, as cracking and breaking filled the kitchen.

  In complete shock, I stared at him while he repeatedly punched the island. He would break either his hand or the granite counter.

  I eyed the doorway. It wasn’t too far away and I probably could inch my way around him. He seemed focused on his own rage, but I wasn’t sure leaving him alone was a good idea. He’d come here for a reason. To be consoled by me.

  Filling my lungs with air and my mind with courage, I went to him and held his arms. Gently at first, but as he thrashed against me, I tightened my grip and pulled his fists away from the island. I pressed his hands together.

  “Eric, please, calm down.”

  He twisted his arms around mine and caught hold of my wrists. “Are you on their side? Because you wouldn’t ask me to calm down if you weren’t. If you were on my side, you would understand.”

  “I do understand,” I chocked, fighting the panic rising in my chest. I tried pulling away, but his grip tightened.

  He leaned over me, his teeth bared. “No, you don’t,” he hissed.

  He pushed me back, and I stumbled into the counter once more, then he spun around, punched the picture on the wall. The glass broke into a million pieces, and the frame jiggled on its hook before falling to the floor and breaking too.

  However, Eric didn’t see that. He marched out of the house as I knelt beside the picture. With shaking hands, I swept the broken glass aside and picked up the photo. It was ripped, right between grandma and Hercules and me, separating me from them both.

  I held it to my chest and cried.

  ***

  When Jimmy rushed into the house, telling me Officer Michael was in the stable, I almost dropped my coffee mug. What was he doing here so early? I mean, it had been a couple of weeks since he brought Argus, but it took more than that to help a mistreated horse.

  Between Eric’s freak out last evening, crying, and barely sleeping during the night, my nerves were on high alert, especially with the obscene amount of coffee I had been drinking all day long to keep me going.

  I had plans on taking a nap after lunch, but Officer Michael had just spoiled that.

  With Jimmy by my side, I entered the stable and found the man standing in front of Argus’s stall.

  “Officer Michael, good afternoon,” I greeted him.

  He spared me a quick glance. “Good afternoon, Miss Taylor.”

  With his gaze on Argus, he took a step toward the stall. That simple act alarmed the horse, and Argus bumped into the door with his body, neighing, his hooves stomping the ground, his eyes enraged. Officer Michael jumped back.

  I came to stand between them, knowing all too well that this horse could break down the door and advance on us if he wanted to. “Calm down, boy,” I whispered, my hands raised, palms turned to him.

  Behind me, Officer Michael sighed. “He doesn’t seem much better.”

  I retreated a step and stood beside him. “It has been only two weeks or so. With his history, he’ll need much more than that.”

  He nodded. “I know, but there are rules, Miss Taylor. If we don’t see progress within the month, even if small, we’ll have to put him down.”

  What? Only a month?

  I stared at Argus. He paced from side to side inside his stall, snorting and shaking his head.

  “A month won’t be enough,” I said.

  “I know. But any progress is progress. Show me he doesn’t jump at visitors or lets you pet him or eats better. Anything. That will be enough to buy him more time.”

  For whatever reason, Officer Michael approached the stall once more. I wanted to say no and pull him back, but he was the officer here. Argus halted, his head down. He snorted and spied through his mane. He was waiting. Waiting for the man to come closer to do only God knew what.

  “I’m thinking he still associates me with the place I found him. I took him away from there, but in his mind I was there anyway.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Perhaps? Could be? Then why don’t you just leave? Those didn’t seem like appropriate responses.

  Jimmy saved us from the awkward moment. “Don’t worry, officer. We’ll make sure he progresses.”

  Officer Michael snapped out of it and turned to us with a tight smile. “Good. Because I really don’t like putting animals down.” He walked past us. “I should stop by again in about a month or so. If anything happens before then, give me a call.”

  “Yes, sure,” I said. “Thanks, officer.”

  “Have a good day,” he said before exiting the stable.

  I sagged against the wall across from Argus’s stall, feeling as if someone had dropped a huge rock on my chest.

  Jimmy put his hand on my shoulder. “You can do this, Miss Taylor. I know you can.”

  “I’m not so sure,” I said, watching Argus. He was now standing in a corner inside the stall, his back to us, his head down.

  “You know I’ll help you. Tell me what to do.”

  The sad, frustrated feeling left in me from last night grew and pressured me. I felt as if the walls were closing in on me.

  I sighed. “I don’t know.”

  Chapter Seven

  The next afternoon, I tried to get out of going to the club with my mother. She’d made arrangements with her friends to bring their daughters, have tea, and a nice chat. Have a pleasant afternoon, as she’d said it.

  Yeah, right.

  I squirmed in my seat each time Megan mentioned the dresses she had bought for the upcoming parties and ball. I lost count at her twelfth. Meanwhile, her mother complained about the club’s employees.

  “The quality hasn’t been the same,” she said.

  Of course, my mother agreed, and promptly they came up with a plan to write to the club’s president about how he should better the service before they canceled their membership.

  One hour of this and I stood up. “Excuse me,” I said, retreating from the table. I weaved my way to the restroom, but once in the hallway, I turned in the opposite direction, passed an empty dining room, and exited to the porch.

  I leaned against a pillar and let out a long sigh, feeling bad for not enjoying their company the way they wanted me to, and for not being interested in the same things they were. I was the only woman here interested in horses and my family’s farm. The others were just interested in the money the farms provided, which was exactly what Eric wanted from me.

  Ugh, Eric. I was still mad at him. Frustrated. Disappointed.

 
Last night, I’d stared at my phone for hours, thinking he would call and apologize any minute. But he didn’t, and that made me even more upset.

  All right, time out was over. I had to go back before they came looking for me.

  I stepped toward the big French doors when I heard a shout and stopped. I looked around, trying to find the source, but didn’t see anyone. Letting my curiosity win, I descended the porch steps and followed the short stone path around a tall wall. Perhaps I shouldn’t spy, but I was concerned it could be someone who’d been riding and fell or something.

  What I didn’t expect was to find Leo arguing with his father. In Portuguese.

  I should have left. I should have retreated, pretended I never saw anything, and went back inside the main house and back to my mother and her friends.

  But I caught a few words and sentences whispered in fast, harsh tones. Disappointment. Make me proud. Grow up. Work hard and stop playing.

  My curiosity piqued, making me stay glued to my spot in the corner.

  “Me deixa em paz, tche!” Leo shouted, turning his back to his father and stalking away.

  I stepped back and hid behind the wall, hoping for all that was holy that he hadn’t seen me. My hopes went down the drain when he stepped around the corner three seconds later, his hard eyes on mine.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to.”

  His jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms over his blue T-shirt. The color emphasized his bright eyes, and the fabric clung to him, especially over his stomach, where a dark blotch of sweat showed off his hard abs. His goddamn white practice pants and the sweat-damp hair didn’t help either.

  “How much did you hear?” he asked.

  I swallowed, forcing my mind to push back images of his god-like body. “Not much. But I only understood a couple of words here and there.” I shifted my weight, uncomfortable under his gaze, and not only because I’d seen and heard something I wasn’t supposed to. Keep your mouth shut, Hannah. Keep your damned mouth sh… “Want to talk about it?”

  The shine in his eyes changed, and the tension in his neck seemed to lessen. He shook his head. “Don’t worry. It’s just the usual banter.”

  Usual? I didn’t like the sound of that. His family seemed so perfect, so warm, so close, so happy. His sister had said he rarely smiled, which seemed odd since I had seen him smiling before. I was dying to know why he and his father usually argued.

  Instead, I started a new subject. “I heard you’re staying.”

  He nodded. “It was the plan all along.”

  “Really?”

  “Sim. Polo in Brazil isn’t that strong. Here, though, is another story.”

  “I see.” I looked from side to side. “Do you and your brothers plan on staying for … long?” I pressed my lips together, chiding myself for almost saying forever.

  “We don’t know. Perhaps, if all goes well.” He took a step closer, his eyes still on mine, making me slightly breathless. His body loomed closer, the difference in our heights and widths almost hilarious, if it wasn’t for the fact it turned me on. Crap. “I hope we do.” A shiver rolled down my spine. “How is Argus doing?” he asked.

  The change in subject surprised me. “The same,” I muttered. “Barely eating. Jumping with each click and crack around him. Neighing and bothering the other horses. Shooing me from his stall.”

  His lip turned into a lopsided grin. “Maybe I should stop by again. To check on him.”

  “That’s not neces—” I pressed my lips tight. An idea brought hope and I felt instantly excited. “You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

  His eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Yes. In fact, I may need more than just a quick check on him.” It pained me to admit it, but I had to. “The officer who rescued him thinks I’m not doing a good job … and I agree with him. But I don’t know what to do. However, you seem to be able to reach him.”

  A frown appeared between his brows. “And …?”

  I took a deep breath. “You need to help me. I mean, I need your help. I know you’re probably busy with practice, but if you could stop by every now and then and—”

  “Yes,” he said.

  I gaped. “Yes?”

  “Yeah, I’ll help you.”

  A big smile exploded on my lips. “That’s … great. Thanks!”

  He nodded. “Sure. When should I come by? Tonight?”

  “No,” I said quickly. I didn’t know what was going on in Eric’s mind or when he would show up, but I was sure it wouldn’t be tomorrow night when he had a business dinner with some men. Stuff for his family’s business. “Tomorrow evening.”

  His eyes sunk into mine and my breath caught. “I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered again. “I’ve gotta go now.”

  I marched away without giving him time to respond or saying bye, and guilt settled low in my stomach. Guilt for listening to his argument with his father. Guilt for asking for his help and knowing I wouldn’t tell Eric about it. Guilt for having feelings for him I couldn’t seem to control.

  I sped up the steps and, upon opening the French doors leading inside the main house, practically ran into Beatriz.

  “Eita!” She grabbed my shoulders to steady me. “Where’s the fire?”

  I winced. God, if only she knew about the real fire that took everything I loved the most away from me, she wouldn’t make jokes like that.

  “I should get back to—”

  “There you are.” My mother’s voice carried her permanently flat tone. She stood on the other side of the room, looking as unaffected as always. “You were taking so long I thought you had fainted in the restroom.”

  I glanced from her to Beatriz and back. “Well, I ran into Beatriz here and I thought she could join us. She’s a member of this club, after all.”

  My mother’s perfect brows rose up, but she smiled. “Of course. We would love if she joined us.”

  Beatriz glared at me, but I ignored the warning in it and held her arm, tugging her into walking with me. “Come on,” I said loud enough so my mother would hear. “I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

  Thankfully, Beatriz let me take her to our table. I introduced her to everyone while the waiters arranged a place for her beside me. The ladies around the large table looked at her with mild interest. Crap, I was bringing her into the snake nest and she had no clue.

  Too late to regret it.

  We sat down and Megan didn’t waste time. “So, how is it to live with four hot guys?”

  “Ew,” Beatriz said and made a face. I pressed my lips tight, holding back my laughter.

  Oh, God, this should be fun. She turned those blue-green eyes to me again, something like anger shining from them. “Eu vou te matar,” she whispered, before flashing a fake smile to Megan and engaging in her conversation like a pro.

  Off the hook for a while, I sighed and relaxed a little.

  ***

  The afternoon hadn’t been all bad after all. As I drove home, I smiled, remembering how much better I’d felt around the club’s ladies after Beatriz had joined us. I even laughed, and at some point, she stopped glaring at me, though she said that if I tried putting her through that again, she would punch me in the face. And I believed her.

  I entered the ranch’s private road, and my smile died when I saw Eric’s car in my driveway.

  I parked my car beside his and counted to ten. I hadn’t heard from or seen him in almost forty-eight hours, and it worried me. He never went more than five hours without calling me to tell me he loved or that he missed me. I seriously hoped he wasn’t here to argue more, because I wasn’t in the mood.

  I found the house’s front door open, and when I stepped in, a spicy aroma hit my nose. I inhaled deeply and sighed.

  “Hello?” I called, taking off my sandals and leaving them beside the stairs. I followed the scent into the kitchen and found Eric in front of the stove, wearing an apron that read Polo players do it better. He wore a cooking m
itten on one of his hands. “What are you doing?” Even I could hear the wariness in my voice.

  “Surprise.” He smiled, showing me to the table. It had my grandma’s best tablecloth on it, a white crocheted one passed on to her by her grandmother, porcelain plates, crystal goblets, and an expensive red wine.

  I crossed my arms and frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

  His smile faltered for a quick second. He turned off one of the stove’s burners and pointed to something behind me.

  Still feeling guarded, I turned and gasped. The photo was back on the wall, with a new frame, and even though I could see where it had been ripped, I couldn’t help but feel relieved it was in its place once more.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, right behind me.

  I didn’t turn. “You lost it. You broke my mugs and my picture. You freaked me out.”

  His hands rested on my upper arms. I jerked them, but his grip tightened. “I’m so sorry, baby. I know I lost it, and that it scared you. I scared myself too. It’s just ……” He took a long breath. “I’m very competitive and I let it get the best of me. I overreacted and I’m so sorry I frightened you.”

  “We’ve been together for two years. I know you’re competitive. But why have I never seen this side of you before?”

  “I didn’t think that you ever would. I guess my temper acts up sometimes, and I thought I could control it enough around you.” He turned me around to face him. “I still think I can. You know I would never, ever hurt you.”

  But it did hurt. He scared the hell out of me, and apparently, he didn’t trust me enough to tell me about his problems. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before? About your temper?”

  “I didn’t want you to worry about it. Besides, I swear I’m okay now.”

  Was he really? Because he’d seemed perfectly fine before the freak out too.

  He brushed his fingers over my cheek, and his gaze fell on my lips. “Tell me you forgive me. Please.”

  “I want to say that I forgive you, but the truth is you really scared me.”

  His arms wound around me, pulling me tight against him. “I know, baby, I know. I’m so sorry.” He kissed my forehead. “I love you so much. I can’t bear the way you’re looking at me right now.”