All the King's Horses

by Lauren Gallagher

Dustin was sitting at the desk in his office when I came back from the weekly run into town for everything the farm needed.

  “More receipts.” I handed him the stack. “I wouldn’t look at them all at once unless you’ve had a few drinks first.”

  “Eh, what else is new?” He scowled as he took them and slipped them into a folder. “I might as well just make Jim Beam the farm’s accountant from here on out.”

  “Well, a bottle of Beam is cheaper than the accountant, so…”

  He laughed. “Good point.”

  “I’ll leave you to your pencil pushing.” I gestured over my shoulder. “I’ll go unload the truck.”

  As I started to go, he called after me, “Need help with anything?”

  “Nope, I’ve got it.” I glanced back, giving him a playful grin. “Nothing that needs a big strong man to take care of for me.”

  Dustin smirked and then went back to his paperwork. Laughing to myself, I continued on my way.

  As soon as I stepped out of the office, movement from the corner of my eye turned my head, and I stopped dead in my tracks. My humor dried up in an instant, and my heart jumped into my throat as I just barely managed to choke out the single word: “Curt?”

  My brother’s eyes narrowed. “What in God’s name are you doing here?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.” I approached him warily. “How did you—”

  “It’s the age of the Internet,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Only so many guys named Dustin running ranches in the Pacific Northwest. Question is, what the hell are you doing here?” He looked me up and down, then sneered. “I mean, seriously. Why is Amy Dover working as—”

  “I needed some time away,” I snapped.

  “And you’ve had enough time.” He folded his arms and gave me the head-tilt glare he’d inherited from our father. “Mom and Dad are worried sick, and Mariah’s barely keeping her head above water.”

  “She told me she had everything under control.”

  “Of course she did.” He rolled his eyes. “You really think she’d tell you if she didn’t? Which, by the way, she doesn’t.”

  I looked away, trying and failing to ignore the guilt in my chest.

  “Amy, no one’s asking you to be happy about what happened to Sam,” he said, his voice quieter but still taut with frustration. “But you still have a life back there. You have a home and a job. You have a family who’s been picking up the slack since you left.”

  I lowered my gaze, cringing as guilt burned hotter with every word he spoke.

  “You have a life you can’t just run away from,” he went on. “I mean, how long were you planning on staying out here? And why the hell did you come here of all places, anyway?” He gestured at the barn around us, sneering just like Sam would have done if he’d ever seen this place.

  Avoiding his eyes, partly out of shame and partly because he’d pissed me off by turning up his nose at Dustin’s ranch, I said, “I just needed to…find something, I guess.”

  “Have you found what you’re looking for?”

  I glanced at the door that separated us from where Dustin paid bills and went over paperwork. More to myself than Curt, I said, “I might have.”

  “You might have?” He huffed sharply. “What exactly does that mean?”

  I glared at him. “It means you don’t have a damned clue what I’ve had to deal with.”

  He folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head, scowling impatiently. “Enlighten me, then.”

  “I don’t need to explain myself to you,” I growled.

  “Oh really? And what about the clients you left behind? What about your sister and niece who have been picking up all the goddamned slack? And what about Mom and—”

  “I’m sorry, okay?” I threw up my hands. “I was already at a breaking point before Sam died, and when he did, I just… I lost it, all right?”

  “Fine. You lost it.” He stepped closer, glaring down at me. “But you’ve had time to get it back together, and—”

  “I don’t think it’s your decision if I’ve had enough time.”

  “How much time do you need?” he asked, raising his voice just enough to make me draw back. “You’ve been here for almost three goddamned months. The competition season is damn near over.”

  “And maybe I needed—”

  “Whatever the fuck you need, you can sort it out at home,” he growled. “You’ve got responsibilities. Grow the fuck up and come home, for God’s sake.” He swung his hand in a frustrated gesture, opening his mouth to speak again, but I instinctively recoiled, and he froze. “Amy…”

  Setting my jaw, I folded my arms across my chest to keep from shaking and put a half-step’s worth of space between us. “You’ve made your point.” I cringed at the sudden unsteadiness in my voice. “You can go.”

  He reached for my shoulder, but I jerked away. His voice soft now, he said, “Amy, I only want—”

  The door opened, and we both turned our heads.

  Dustin looked at Curt, then me. “Is everything all right out here?”

  “Yeah.” I gestured at Curt. “This is my brother, Curt. Curt, this is Dustin.” I hesitated, then added. “My boss.”

  Though confusion still furrowed his brow, Dustin extended his hand.

  Curt looked at it like he’d just been offered a pitchfork of horseshit. “Your boss?” he said to me.

  Dustin withdrew his hand. “Is that a problem?”

  I exhaled hard. “Really, Curt?”

  He scowled at me. “How long exactly are you going to do whatever it is you’re doing over here?” Gesturing sharply at Dustin, he added, “Were you planning on working for him forever?” Before I could answer, he said to Dustin, “You do know she’s just moonlighting here, right?”

  I glanced at Dustin. His eyes were wide, eyebrows up, but I couldn’t decide if he was just confused by the situation or also a bit curious about the answer to my brother’s question.

  Quietly, as if he was speaking to a skittish horse, Dustin said, “I’m well aware of her situation, yes.”

  Curt’s lips thinned into a straight line. “I hope you weren’t planning on keeping her into the winter, then.”

  “She’s welcome to stay as long as she needs to.” Dustin’s voice was low and even. “And if she needs or wants to leave, I won’t make her stay.”

  Curt looked at me, Dustin, me again. Then he squared his shoulders. “I have a long drive ahead of me. I need to go.”

  I said nothing.

  He stabbed a finger at me. “Don’t stay away too much longer. Mariah’s keeping your clients happy for the moment, but they signed up for you, not her.”

  I just nodded, silently cursing him for making me feel like a scolded child.

  “And you have a family to think about. Don’t keep putting them through this.” Curt’s voice softened. “We’re worried about you, Amy. All of us.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said without looking at him.

  My brother hugged me. Halfheartedly, I returned it.

  As he let me go, he said, “I’ll see you soon.” The upward flick of his eyebrow and the downward tilt of his chin said that wasn’t a question. With that, he stormed out of Dustin’s barn.

  He was right. Of course he was. And how bad had things gotten for him to drive all the way out here to tell me to my face that it was well past time for me to come back? God, Mariah must have been losing her mind, and my parents must have been out of theirs.

  But in trying to get my head together, I’d accidentally made a life out here. As much as anyone could in a little under three months, I supposed, but some roots had taken hold since I got here, and pulling those up and leaving wasn’t as simple as it should have been.

  “Amy?” Dustin’s voice reminded me he was still here, standing in his office doorway and watching me, his eyebrows up and concern written all over his face. “You all right?”

  “No. I’m not.” I closed my eyes and sighed.

&nb
sp; He put his arm around my shoulders. Without any conscious thought or effort on my part, I leaned against him, closing my eyes and exhaling under the comfortable weight of his arm.

  Still holding on to him, I whispered, “I…don’t know if I should stay here.”

  His arm tensed just a little, and his voice was soft as he said, “You need to go back?”

  “Yes. Maybe. I… God, I don’t know.” I looked up at him. “I really don’t know.” I glanced at my watch because I couldn’t keep holding his gaze, and when I realized the time, I took it as an excuse to move away from him, because if I didn’t, I knew I never would. “I should… I’ve got horses to bring in.”

  “Do you need any help?”

  “No, I’ve got it.” I chewed my lip and widened the space between us by another step. “And I’ll…let you know about where I’m going from here.”

  He nodded. “All right,” he said quietly. “Whatever you need to do.”

  I didn’t say anything more. I just turned and hurried out of the barn, desperate to get back into what had become a familiar, comfortable routine, but I found out in no time that that wasn’t going to help. Not this time. Going through the motions of the tasks that had become that comfortable routine, I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that my days here, possibly my hours, were numbered. Much sooner than later, this place and every horse I’d come to know in the last few weeks would be behind me. In the past.

  I caught myself wishing for the numbness that had driven me here in the first place. It was easy to wish I could feel something when that something wasn’t this ache that had burrowed itself deep in my chest.

  By the time I was done for the day, my skin was flush and damp from sweat, but even with the heat of the afternoon sticking to me, I was cold. Cold enough that a hot shower didn’t do me a damned bit of good, and by the time I’d showered and dressed again, I was seriously considering a few shots of vodka just to warm up. Well, to warm up and just check out of the present for a little while.

  And as much as I wanted to be pissed at Curt for showing up and reading me the riot act, I had no one to blame for any of this but myself.

  God, what have I done to my life?

  The glass was on the counter and the bottle in my hand when someone knocked at my door. I debated not answering. What if Curt had come back? Or sent in Mariah, or my parents, or my in-laws, or some other member of the cavalry I wasn’t ready to face?

  Oh, hell, why not? I can’t keep ignoring every unpleasant thing that comes my way.

  I left the bottle on the counter beside the glass and went to the door.

  It wasn’t one of my family members.

  “Hey,” Dustin said. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

  No. Nowhere near okay.

  I exhaled. “I’m just trying to figure out what I should do.” I stood aside and gestured for him to come in. He took off his hat and left it beside the door. In silence, we walked into the living room and sank onto the couch. I left the booze on the counter—Dustin didn’t need to see me like that. Not again.

  “So, what are you going to do?” he asked after a while.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know yet. I know I should, but I’m…” Not sure I’m ready? Not sure I’ll ever be? Not sure of anything?

  “Amy.” He stroked my hair. “This was never supposed to be a permanent arrangement for you, and you have a life over there.” Trailing his fingers down my cheek, he whispered, “If you need to go back, then…”

  Could I deny that I needed to? Of course not.

  Dustin reached for my hand, and as he clasped my fingers in his, he said, “Is this really where you want to be? You have a family. A home.”

  I sniffed. “I know, but—” But what? I don’t want to leave this place? Too bad. I made this bed. I pulled in a ragged breath. “I should give you two weeks’ notice. So you can—”

  “Don’t worry about that.” He brought my hand up and kissed the backs of my fingers. “I can handle it until we find someone else, but I don’t want you to keep hurting like this any longer than you have to.”

  I wiped my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dustin.”

  “You have no reason to apologize.” He brushed a tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “We both knew this would come eventually.”

  “I know.” I just didn’t think it would hurt this much.

  He tucked my hair behind my ear. “When do you think you’ll want to leave?”

  I might have been put off—or maybe relieved?—by him so quickly accepting that I was leaving, except for the way he didn’t look me in the eyes when he spoke. Or the resignation in his quiet voice.

  “Probably soon.” Closing my eyes, I exhaled. “Like…tomorrow, soon.”

  Dustin touched my face again, and his hand was a little unsteady. “If that’s what you need to do…” He sounded winded.

  I looked up at him. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I told you,” he whispered, “you have no reason to apologize. I only want you to do what you need to do to be happy.”

  “Thank you,” I said and leaned in to kiss him lightly.

  The kiss lingered for a long moment. It didn’t deepen, didn’t intensify, just went on like time wasn’t getting way too short way too fast.

  Dustin drew back, and our eyes met.

  My heart thundered now, and even though everything here was about to be over, I wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. Holding his gaze, I whispered, “Would you be opposed to…” I swallowed hard. “Spending tonight together?”

  Dustin looked in my eyes, and for a few long seconds, I had no idea what he’d finally say. When he answered my question, though, he didn’t say a word. He just reached for my face and drew me into another soft, sweet kiss.

  Somehow, we found the presence of mind to move into the bedroom, and as we fell into bed together, we were somewhere between in a hurry and taking our sweet, sweet time. Dustin’s shirt came off with so much force, I was sure a seam had ripped. Then we were back to slow, sensual kissing and running hungry, shaking hands all over each other. Eventually, my shirt joined Dustin’s on the floor, and my bra followed. A dozen long, frantic kisses later, we stripped off the last of the clothes that divided us.

  Dustin put on a condom, and I was on top of him, and we sank to the bed in a breathless, skin-to-skin embrace as we pulled air from each other’s lungs and tried to get close, closer, too close but not close enough, God, Dustin, don’t make me let you go…

  And that was when the penny dropped in my mind: I needed his touch. I needed his reassurance. Like never before, I needed him.

  I needed his body to tell me everything he couldn’t say. Or everything he said, but I couldn’t hear.

  Tell me this is real.

  Tell me this is right.

  Tell me everything about this is right.

  I pushed myself up on my arms and looked down at him as I moved my hips, and a whispered “Oh God” slipped off his lips. I rode him slowly, because any faster would be too much, too fast, too intense. Even this was too much, but I couldn’t stop. Not when I was this close to Dustin, when he was this deep inside me, when he was lying beneath me and whispering the slurred curses of a man unraveling as quickly as I was.

  We were moving faster now. When I’d picked up speed, I couldn’t say, but somehow slow and easy had become faster and harder, rattling the bed frame and making my muscles burn with exertion.

  All at once, Dustin threw his arms around me, and in a second, he was in control. The world shifted, spun, and when it righted itself, my back was on the bed and Dustin was inside me again, thrusting deeper, thrusting harder. I held on to him and let myself get lost in him, and the more we moved together, the longer we were in this perfect, feverish synch, the more I was overwhelmed, on the edge, coming apart at the seams.

  He suddenly broke the kiss with a gasp, his head falling beside mine for a second. “Oh God,” he groaned, raising his head. “Oh my God, baby, you feel—” He shudde
red.

  I gripped his shoulders, rocking my hips in time with his thrusts and pulling him deeper as the first pulses of another orgasm rippled through me. Still moving together, we locked eyes, and it wasn’t his deep, powerful thrusts that forced the air out of my lungs.

  This is real. He moved faster, his body trembling against mine. This is right. I was so close, but held on, not yet ready to let this moment pass. Everything about this is right. He kissed me. I love you.

  His lips barely leaving mine, he whispered my name, his voice somewhere between a moan and a sob. Then he moaned into my kiss and, in the same instant, we both let go.

  When he collapsed against me, I held him, running my fingers through his sweaty hair as we trembled and panted in silence.

  After a moment, I exhaled, and it was the most relaxed, unhindered breath I’d released in entirely too long. There were still questions and uncertainties and unpleasantness to be faced, but this was right. The only thing that mattered was now. This. Us.

  This, I knew, was right.

  I wanted to believe that. I wanted so, so badly to believe that, just like I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I bit my tongue. Why salt the wound any more than I would already have to? Because even as we lay there in the afterglow of the kind of sex I’d only ever had with him, the truth wouldn’t stay away. No amount of listening to his heartbeat or running my fingertips along his still, warm arm, or feeling his breath on my neck, could change what I knew and he probably knew too: I couldn’t stay here.

  And when I awoke with the sunrise the next morning, Dustin was already gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dustin

  Nothing in town would be open yet, especially not on a Sunday, but the forty-five minutes it would take me to get there would give the store owners enough time to light up the Open signs. Even if everything was still closed when I got there, I’d just drive around and kill some time until they opened. As long as there was a muddy stretch of road between me and the ranch for a little while, I was happy.

  Gripping the steering wheel, I tried not to relive last night. Or the night we’d steamed up my truck’s windows on the side of the road right there, between the end of Grange Ranch’s fence and the bridge over Horton’s Creek. Not that I could forget; every ache and twinge reminded me of everything we’d done. Every time I moved, even to steer the truck or push down on the accelerator, my mind went right back to her bed, and there was no denying it: spending one last night together was a huge mistake. I’d never felt closer to her than I did last night, and if I could’ve left well enough alone, maybe I wouldn’t have felt so goddamned alone this morning.