by Toni Mari
A blaring horn shrilled in front of me. I jumped in my seat, wrenching the wheel to the right, swerving the car back over to my side of the yellow line. Opening my mouth, I sucked in deep breaths. Taillights of the car I had nearly hit glinted in the rearview mirror. My heart still pounded as I reached to turn down the radio. Wow! I needed to keep my eyes on the road and my mind on what I was doing.
I turned into the farm driveway and cruised slowly past the pastures, bumping gently over ruts until I got to the dirt area by the barn. After I shoved the gearshift to park, my phone started buzzing and ringing so I unclipped my seat belt. I dove headfirst toward the furthest corner of the floor where the phone was wedged under the dash, my rear end up in the air as I scrabbled to grab the vibrating thing before it stopped ringing.
So this was the first view Cory got of me in three days. He grabbed my hips and pulled me out of the car and against his chest. “Darling.”
Dropping the phone with a screech, I twisted in his arms and kissed him, smacking my forehead into his hat. All the butterflies, all the electric sizzles, and all the buzzing in my brain calmed under his touch. I sank into his warmth, feeling like I was in the right place for the first time in nearly a week.
After a moment, he pulled back and kissed my forehead. “I couldn’t think of anything else but you all morning.”
I squeezed his waist. “Me neither.”
His gaze roamed over my face and body and then locked onto my eyes. Mischief danced across his lips as he lifted my hand and laid it on his chest. He whispered, “You still do this to my heart.”
The strong, rapid beat pulsed against my palm, and I hated college all over again.
“Let’s take lunch up on the hill in our favorite spot,” I suggested, needing him all to myself.
“You bet.” Just as he released me, my phone started buzzing and jumping all over again. I grabbed it and swiped, ready to tell Carly to get her own love life. “Hey, girl.”
“It’s me, Shawn. Hi, Jane.”
I darted a look at Cory and turned my back to him. “Hi?”
“Where are you? I’ve been trying to get you all day.”
I bristled at his impatient tone. What was he, my father? “None of your business. Why?”
“Mark and Mandy are meeting me for dinner and you need to come, too.”
I put a hand on the car roof and pressed my lips together. Part of me wanted to see Mandy, but a bigger part of me wanted to avoid the whole difficult thing. I blew out a noisy sigh. “I’m at home. It would be a two-hour drive.”
“It’s not until six o’clock. You can make it.”
“I just got here.” I could hear the whine in my voice, and, glancing at Cory, I shook my head at his concerned look.
“Jane, I need you to come. I’m not sure I can handle it by myself. Please.” He said the word softly, but it squeezed my chest. He sounded so different from when we stayed with Erica. Where was the guy who didn’t take anything too seriously? That guy would have demanded with cocky confidence that I drive to him, joking away my protests.
I swallowed, closing my eyes as I said, “Okay. I’ll come.”
“Just you, Jane. I can’t deal with you and Cory tonight.”
“Okay.” I hung up after he gave me the details.
“Where do you have to go?” Cory stood, arms crossed, face tight.
I couldn’t meet his eyes, so I busied myself taking the fast-food bag out of the passenger seat. “That was Shawn. Mark has invited Shawn and I to dinner. I have to go. I need to see Mandy,” I quickly added as his eyes narrowed.
“Fine. I’ll drive. What time?”
I couldn’t help tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and biting a fingernail. “Just me. Mark said.”
Cory lifted his hat, combed his fingers through his hair, and placed the hat back on. His eyes were angry, but he didn’t say anything.
“I still have time for a quick lunch.” I slid my arms around him again.
“Lucky me,” he mumbled and took the bag of food, pulling out of my arms. “Let’s eat.”
As I drove to the restaurant, I considered calling Cory and asking him to come despite Shawn’s specific request to not invite him. This was not going to be a great time, and I wanted Cory’s naturally charming personality to make things go smoothly. But then I thought about the last time Shawn, Cory, and I were together and ditched the idea as stupid. With all of our emotions so close to the surface right now, I could just imagine Cory and Shawn having a fist fight and getting us all thrown out of the restaurant.
Mental head slap. The only way to escape this situation would be to turn around and head right back home. But I couldn’t do that to Shawn. I had already treated him badly enough by choosing Cory over him. I couldn’t turn down his request for help without a major case of the guilts. I had plenty to feel guilty about, so I resolved to make it through one not-so-great dinner. And maybe Mandy would feel better after seeing Shawn and me. The three of us had had such a good time hanging out together before the Junior Rider Championships at the beginning of the summer.
Blowing out a huge breath, I braced myself, smoothing my hair with one hand and clearing my mind of gloomy thoughts. I would be positive and chipper and keep everyone talking of the good times. Then it would be over, I’d give everyone a tight squeeze, and zoom right back to Cory’s arms.
I should have gotten credit for good intentions. I slid into the chair Shawn held for me. Across the table, Mark’s crisp button-down and tailored business suit were in sharp contrast to his unkempt hair and pale, haggard complexion. His grief reached out like a hand, pressing down on my shoulders. Keeping a smile—or at least the corners of my lips tipped up—I unfolded the cloth napkin on my lap.
Shawn shook Mark’s hand and then sat down next to me. “Hey, Mandy,” he said softly, never quite looking at her. I looked. Her golden blond hair was dull and hung limply around her round face. Her gaze was riveted on the menu, and she didn’t respond to anyone, not even the waitress who asked for her drink order.
“She’ll have a lemonade,” Mark said automatically.
After the bustle of ordering drinks and choosing dinners, I tried to draw Mandy out. “So, Mandy, is the city exciting compared to living on a horse farm?”
Her head lifted slowly and hazel eyes laced with wrath pierced mine.
I was so unprepared for the pure anger that radiated from her that I lapsed into stunned silence, staring at her face with my mouth hanging open. Where was the vivacious little girl that scolded her pony for dumping her and then proceeded to mount back up and win the class? Where was the coy flirt who had an adorable crush on Shawn?
With a noisy swallow, I glanced at Shawn, but he was pretending to read the drink specials card and refused to return my look. The waitress set my freshly squeezed lemonade in front of me, and I took a fortifying gulp, coughing and sputtering as the icy fluid tickled my throat and dripped into my lungs.
Shawn seemed relieved to have something to do and pounded my back for all he was worth. I held up a hand to get him to stop and sucked air through my mouth until my throat warmed up and my air passage cleared. I had to stop using cold substances to cover my anxiety.
“Excuse me.” The waitress stood behind me, a plate of salad in each hand. “Are you ready for this?”
I almost said no, I wasn’t ready to handle this tension, but then I realized she meant the salad. I nodded.
Once we settled into eating, no one spoke, no one looked at each other, and no one tried to ease the situation with words. The silence built like cars piling into a traffic jam at rush hour. I squirmed in my seat, anxious to accelerate the conversation.
“My horse Windsong is doing really well this fall show season. Mandy, how are you doing with your riding?” I cautiously asked, stupidly forgetting that horses don’t live in New York City.
“I don’t ride anymore,” she bit out.
I winced at her curt tone. I couldn’t tell whether she meant by choice or by cir
cumstance. Not wanting to push the issue, I turned to Shawn. “How’s Donner?”
Shawn darted a guilty look at Mark. “I haven’t been riding, either.”
I pushed back, my fork clattering against the ceramic plate. “Why not? Regionals are coming up, and you have to prepare.”
His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “I haven’t felt like training,” he said stiffly without moving his lips, rolling his eyes toward Mark.
I glanced at Mark, who was intently moving lettuce around on his plate. It didn’t look like he was listening, but I didn’t pursue that subject.
The silence was broken next by the sound of the ketchup bottle as Mandy drowned her fries. The tension was thick enough to cut with the knife I was using to cut up my meat. I wished someone would just say something, anything. I scrabbled for another subject to fill the void, and I thought of the letter from EMA. Mark was a board member for the charity, and it occurred to me that he may have suggested or agreed to the idea of me as representative.
“Mark, I received the letter from EMA asking me to be the new spokesperson for the rescue. Thanks for thinking of me.”
Mark set his fork down. His brow wrinkled as he made an effort to return his thoughts from wherever his mind had been to the table. “EMA? What letter?”
“They asked me to represent them in their advertising campaigns. Me and Windsong. Posters, appearances, interviews.”
Mark rubbed his forehead. “I haven’t been paying attention to much with the rescue lately. Erica usually was the one who did the posters and appearances.”
Mandy’s glare burned a hole in my forehead. “They can just use the posters with my mother and Lucky. Everyone knows those posters.” Mandy turned to her dad. “She,” she said with a condescending tilt of her head toward me, “shouldn’t be on the posters. It should be Mom, right? It was Mom’s rescue.”
Erica had named the rescue organization EMA, which stood for Erica, Mark, Amanda, her family. She had built it up from a local nonprofit to a renowned, national one.
“Erica really loved that rescue.” Mark’s voice broke. He reached for his mug of beer and took a big swallow.
“That’s why they should use the posters with Mom. Right, Dad?” Mandy was clearly voting no for my taking the position.
Mark shrugged. “I don’t know.”
As Mark struggled to regain his composure, Shawn stared down at his plate.
Apparently, no subject was safe. I tried to put the question to rest. “My father doesn’t want me to say yes, either. He says it would be too difficult since I’m starting college. Don’t worry, I’ll refuse the position. How’s your chicken, Mandy?”
More glaring and no answering. I concentrated on my plate and didn’t open my mouth until the waitress asked if we wanted dessert. Violently shaking my head, I rose. “I have a long drive. It was good to see you all,” I lied.
As I walked to my car, my shoulders sagged. That dinner didn’t do any one of us any good. The hurt was too raw, and we all just reminded each other of who was missing. I dug through my purse for my elusive keys and then shook it in frustration. They always disappeared into the murky depths of the darn thing. I threw it on the ground. My keys spilled out, along with sunglasses, lip balm, and loose change. I stooped to scoop it all back in and jumped at Shawn’s voice.
“I had a lovely time in there. We should do it again soon. Not!”
I grabbed the keys and twisted up to my feet. “I miss you all so much, but we can’t even manage to be together for one dinner. What happened to how close we were? We should be able to comfort each other. But I couldn’t manage to say one thing right tonight.”
Shawn took my keys and unlocked the car door for me. He rubbed my shoulders. “It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. Things are just different now. We can’t go back.”
“No.” I sank into the driver’s seat and started the car. “But forward isn’t looking that great either.”
“I hear you.” He kissed my cheek and closed the door.
Chapter 5
Lifting my cheeks to the sun, I closed my eyes and savored that sweaty horse smell. I leaned forward and ran my hand through Windsong’s silky, short mane, digging my fingers into the firm muscles of his arched, elegant neck. He cocked his delicately chiseled head back, enjoying the caress. His jet black ears flicked back and forth between me and the scary world. A horse can enjoy being rubbed and still keep an eye out for danger.
I sniffed at my shirt, wondering if Windsong thought the smell of sweaty human was pleasant. He liked the taste of my salty skin because he licked it all the time, so maybe he did.
Windsong’s ribs lifted my legs gently, and I admitted to myself that touching him was all the therapy I needed after the stress of that awful dinner. I rubbed his velvety coat, the damp warmth welcome on my palm. This was what it was all about. A good, honest workout on my horse, focusing on the figures and making my muscles quiver with effort. After a deep, cleansing breath, I sat up, ready to pick up the reins and end our walk break.
My brow creased. Windsong’s ribs were still pushing against my legs and his head drooped at the end of his long neck. I tugged the rein and tilted his face to the side so I could see his nostril. Yep, it was still flaring widely. Was he tired already? I had only been riding a few minutes. Granted, they were a glorious few minutes.
I pulled the phone out of my pocket and clicked it on. Twenty-two minutes had passed since we had entered the arena. This was our second walk break. Was it possible that I had been working him too hard? Panic skittered through my veins. How could I know what was too much? I pressed my lips together.
Windsong’s head flew up. Loud snorts erupted from his nose. Next thing I knew, we were dashing sideways and I was fighting to stop his flight. As I gained control, I stared into the distance, trying to find what Windsong had thought threatened his safety. Nothing, nothing that my naked eye could see. But Windsong continued to prance and yank at the bridle, bouncing up and down with his head almost higher than mine.
“Was I boring you, worrying about your health? Are you too macho to admit you might be tired, lunatic?” I crooned affectionately as I pushed him into a trot. Asking for some circles and figure eights, I firmly made him behave. As soon as he was listening, I jumped off. Although I didn’t want to quit after a silly spook, I also didn’t want to push him too hard. The cardiac veterinarian had said we could continue to train, but no one knew how much Windsong’s damaged heart valve could take.
As I was about to lead Windsong to the hose, Cory’s long, lean silhouette appeared at the other end of the barn aisle. When he caught up to us, his blue eyes twinkled as Windsong nuzzled his flat stomach.
“Looks like you had quite the workout, big guy,” Cory drawled. He took the lead rope from my hand to hold Windsong still while I sprayed the water over his sweaty body. Windsong lifted his skinny legs, dancing away from the tickly drips, not looking tired or droopy at all. Maybe I hadn’t given him enough of a workout after all.
Sighing, I turned off the spigot. “Cory, I’m constantly worrying about overworking Windsong. Sometimes it overshadows everything I do with him.”
“You can’t make yourself crazy.”
“But he’s so goofy. What if I can’t tell when too much is too much?”
“You will know. Give your paranoia a rest.”
Was I being overly paranoid? My phone buzzed, so I dried my hands on my pants and answered it. The voice on the other end made me stop moving.
“Jane? It’s Michelle. Did you get the letter I sent you from EMA?” Michelle had been Erica’s groom. She had gone with us to the Junior Rider Championships to help Shawn and me with our horses.
“Are you the one that sent it?”
“Yeah, it was me. I am the director here now that Erica is,” she hesitated, and then finished lamely, “not.”
“With college starting, I haven’t had much time to think about the offer,” I lied.
“I’m in your area
tomorrow. Let me take you to lunch so we can talk about it. The board is anxious for a response, and I told them I would meet with you.”
“Michelle, I’m sorry, but I can’t do it. My father is against it. I talked to Mark about it. Mandy and he hated the idea. I have to say no. I am honored that you asked me, though. Thank—”
She cut me off. “We really think you would be great for us. Please, let me take you to lunch and explain.”
My instinct was to help, like I did when Erica had asked me to do things. But really, my face on posters, speaking on commercials, and being adored by the public—I couldn’t see the reality of it. Maybe after I graduated and had a few professional dressage titles under my belt, but right now, I was still a nobody. My father might be right about not having time for it. And I didn’t want to see that look of horror on Mandy’s face ever again. The right thing to do was to say no.
“Michelle, I don’t want to waste your time. I have to focus on school, and I just don’t feel that it is the right thing for me at this time.”
“Nothing I can say will change your mind?” Her tone matched that of the letter, cajoling and hopeful.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “No, I’m sorry. But you can call me to help out on a rescue any time.”
A loud whistling breath hissed through the phone’s speaker, and I held it away from my ear. “Fine. I was so excited about the idea, but I guess college is important, too. Okay, I’ll talk to you soon.”
I pressed end and stared at the screen. Cory came back from turning Windsong out. “Bad news?”
“Not for me. I just told Michelle I wouldn’t take the spokesperson position. She was really disappointed.”
“She’ll get over it. Let’s head to your house. Remember, your mom told us to be there for dinner by five.”
Michelle would get over it and find another representative because that was her job. Me, on the other hand, I had just closed the door on my dream job. I was making a mature decision, for my future, right? Then why was I dreading going back to school, and why did I want to call Michelle right back and say yes?
