by Elsa Nickle
“It’s so cute!” Audrey scooped the cat up and cuddled the fluff ball to her chest.
“We best go take it out to the barn.” Ethan smiled.
“Give the kitten back to your uncle. You can play with it later,” Jax said. Reluctantly, and with the saddest puppy dog eyes Ethan had ever seen, Audrey held the kitten up for Ethan to take.
“Thanks, sweetheart. Follow me, Laurel.” Ethan tucked the kitten in one arm and led Laurel out the back door and down the steps. There was no use taking the truck since he wouldn’t be loading any hay and the barn was only a few minutes’ walk.
“So what, exactly, am I your date to?” Laurel asked, reaching out for the kitten.
And now it was time for a confession. It wasn’t the fact that he’d announced she was his date that made him feel bad—Laurel and he had agreed to that part—it was that she would actually have to go to the wedding. When she used him as an excuse, he never really had to be there.
“Well.” Ethan ran his free hand through his hair, trying to figure out the best way to tell her. Coming up empty, he figured he might as well just blurt it out. “Landon’s wedding.”
She stopped in her tracks.
“Listen, you don’t need to go. I can find another date, or who says I even need one?” Other than every single person in the house and Granny. But Laurel didn’t need to know that.
She started walking again.
“Which reminds me,” he said, daring a glance at her. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome?” She said the phrase as a question.
“They were all getting ready for family lunch. You’re my excuse to get out of there. So I guess, as far as the whole dating tally goes, we’re even,” he teased.
“Even? Not even close. A wedding and family lunch are worth way more than a trip to the coffee shop. Actually, this would make two family luncheons now. I think it’s safe to say that you owe me,” she said with a laugh. It was such a beautiful sound, one that seemed to lift the dark cloud from his mood.
“Well, now, that’s a debt I don’t mind paying.” He smiled and she gave him a playful bump with her shoulder. “So I’m guessing your mom said no to the cat, then?”
She sighed and looked down at the fluff ball. “Yep. She came home right after you left and freaked out. It’s okay that I brought her over, isn’t it? Your brothers didn’t seem too thrilled.”
“Trust me. It’s fine. I reckon she’ll make a good mouser.”
“Reckon?”
He felt the corners of his mouth quirk up. “It all comes back after a while, I suppose. The words, the clothes, the memories.”
“Well, that’s a good thing. As long as they’re good memories.” She snuggled the kitten who had moved to cuddle under her chin. “Are they?”
He paused, chewing on his lower lip as memories of the Wyle Away passed through his mind. The first time his dad showed him how to use a lasso. Jumping over sage brush with his brothers as if they were riding horses, pretending he was the sheriff while they were his posse. The sound of his mother’s voice as she sang his baby brothers to sleep. “I suppose. Most of them, anyway.”
“Do you miss it?”
“The ranch?”
She nodded. “Must be nice to have grown up out here, what with this view.”
His eyes skimmed the countryside. The bright blue sky against the red and pink rock. The fragile cactus blossoms now in full bloom. “Maybe a little bit. But home is more than just the view.” It was family. At least, it was supposed to be. He lost that after his parents died, when everything unraveled.
The worst part was, he didn’t even know how everything got so tangled up. One day, he was in college, working and studying hard, the next, his world collapsed. Not only did he lose his parents, but his brothers had all been angry that he hadn’t dropped out of school and come back to help them run the ranch. They hadn’t understood everything that entailed for him. It wasn’t like he could just take a break from one of the most difficult vet schools to get into. He would have lost everything he had worked so hard for if he had come back.
In less time than it took to blink, Ethan’s life had been flipped upside down. Everything he thought mattered was ripped from him. So he did what he always did, focused on his goal. After he lost his parents and things had gotten difficult with his brothers, nothing mattered to him more than becoming a vet and starting his own clinic.
Ethan and Laurel came to the barn, and Laurel set the cat down on the floor. It didn’t move. The animal only licked a dainty paw like a princess.
Ethan chuckled, combing a hand through his hair. “Well, looks like she might not be as feral as I’d hoped. It’s all right, though. She’ll learn.” He turned to see Laurel standing beside him, mouth open in awe as she stared up at the horse standing in the stall beside them.
“Is that yours?” She stared at the gray and white spotted percheron. He was tall and strong, a good horse for around the ranch.
“Well, sort of—”
“Oh, of course. I forgot for a second that you don’t live here anymore. It’s just that I’ve always loved horses! Ever since I was little. Once, when I was about five, we went to visit my aunt who lived in a trailer out in the middle of nowhere. It was a single wide with these giant Bible verses painted on the side.” She laughed, shaking her head. “I guess my aunt bought it from religious hippies? Anyway, I remember sitting in the kitchen while my mom made lunch and looking out the bay window to see a herd of wild horses running not even a hundred feet from the house.” She gave a wistful sigh. “They seemed so free, I’ve loved them ever since.”
“Is that what you paint, then? Horses?”
“Oh, no. I can’t paint living things.”
She suddenly seemed sad, and he wondered if maybe he had said something wrong. But then she looked up at him with those big brown eyes, and all he wanted to do was make her feel better. “Do you want to take him for a short ride?”
Laurel’s eyes went wide in disbelief. “But don’t you have to get back for your lunch?”
Ethan shrugged. “We’ll be quick. You can get on. I’ll just walk him.”
She gave a small, excited squeal. “Believe it or not, I’ve never actually been on a horse!”
Ethan couldn’t help but smile as he made quick work of saddling up the horse, Malt. When he finished, he led Laurel over to him.
“I’m going to help you up now. Is that okay?”
She gave a nod, and he put his hands on her waist, lifting her up easily.
“Got it?” he asked before fully letting go. “Just hold on to the horn real tight.” He took the lead and started walking out of the barn but he only got two steps before Laurel made a sort of worried noise.
Ethan glanced up over his shoulder to make sure she was okay. Laurel was clinging to the horn, her face white, her eyebrows pinched together in fear. So, apparently, not okay.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Um, well …” She licked her lips. “It would seem horses are a bit taller than I imagined.” She gave a nervous laugh. This particular breed was even bigger than most, and Ethan felt like an idiot for not even thinking about that. “How often do people fall off horses and get injured? I mean, I think it has to be a substantial amount or we wouldn’t have that saying about having to get back on a horse after you’ve fallen off.”
Ethan stopped the horse and went back to her. “You don’t have to ride him. Here, I’ll help you down.” He held his hand out to her. She didn’t take it. There was a smile on her face, but her puppy dog eyes told her disappointment.
“Or …” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. “I could ride with you, if that would make you feel more secure.”
She brightened. “Would you? Is that even possible?”
Ethan paused for half a minute. It wasn’t ideal, but the giant work horse could carry their weight easily enough and was as laid back as they came. The thought of Laurel pressed up against him … he gave a small cough. “Uh, yea
h. It’s possible.” Not smart, but possible.
Her hands grasped the saddle while he put his foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over the horse, settling in behind her. It was a tight squeeze, but not unpleasant. She smelled of strawberry shampoo and vanilla, and he suddenly found himself filled with a different kind of hunger. He slid his arms around her waist, leaning in to grab the reins. He cleared his throat again.
“You okay?”
“Mmhm.”
With a little kick to Malt’s sides, they were off riding over gravel and weaving through sage brush. The wind picked up little pieces of her stray, golden curls, tickling his neck and making it incredibly difficult to concentrate on guiding the horse. He gave a little squeeze with his thigh here and there to tell Malt exactly where to go. It had been awhile since he had ridden a horse, but it came back as easily as riding a bike.
After a few minutes, Laurel’s body relaxed, fitting perfectly against his. She let out a contented sigh. “Just look at that pasture. How the light kisses the clouds and dances around in all of the vibrant colors. Makes me almost wish I brought my painting supplies.”
“Almost?”
“Well, as much as I love painting, I wouldn’t be able to ride the horse and paint. And right now? I prefer the horse.”
“Just the horse, huh?” He chuckled and she gave him a playful elbow to the ribs. “I’m afraid we should head on back now. Lunch is waiting for me.” He was fully aware of how he couldn’t hide the dread in his voice. With a pull on the reins, he turned Malt around and they made their way back to the barn.
The ride back was mostly silent with only the clopping of the horse’s hooves and the cooing of desert doves to fill the afternoon air. There was no way of knowing what Laurel was thinking, but he was consumed with the smell of strawberries and sunshine and the feel of her weight against him. It was both comforting and electric, like a faraway storm on a warm summer’s night. Yep. Taking the ride had definitely been a mistake. He couldn’t let himself get too close to her, not when he had so much waiting for him in Santa Barbara. But right then, the feel of her body, the smell of her hair, it was enough to make him lose all of his good sense.
“What are you thinking about, Cowboy?”
“Baseball.”
She laughed. “What?”
“Um, it’s nothing.”
“Then why are you so quiet?” she asked as the horse made its way into the stable. “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess it’s because you’re not too excited about family lunch.” She shifted on the saddle.
“Ah, c’mon now. What’s not to like about forced conversation and awkward silence?” He swung himself off the horse. “Why do you ask?”
“Well.” She paused as he put his hands on her waist, the action somehow more intimate than before. “You could just come out with me.”
“As in, a real date?” He lifted her off the horse and she stumbled just slightly. His hold on her waist tightened to steady her. Her hands grabbed ahold of his arms to regain her balance, and when their eyes met, it was all he could do not to close the gap between them. Before he could do anything, she straightened and let go of him.
“On second thought, I have a lot of painting to do. I suppose you could watch me paint, but that doesn’t seem very interesting.”
“Watching you do anything would be better than my family lunch.” He bit his lip. “That sounded creepy, didn’t it?”
“A little bit, yeah.” She laughed and he joined her as they started walking back to the house.
“Well, I swear I’m not a stalker. No, it’s just I’d rather do about anything other than go back in that house.”
“In that case, you’re welcome to come on over to my studio. It’s the abandoned shop over on Main. Or you can just say you’re going out with me and then go somewhere else.” She shrugged. “I’ve used you a few times now.”
“You can use me anytime.” He shook his head while she laughed. “And I should really stop saying sentences that sound creepy.” He gave a sheepish grin, and her face flushed. Making her blush was quickly becoming his new favorite game. “Nah, I’d better go in to lunch, but one of these days I’d love to see your studio.”
“Well, if you change your mind, let me know,” she said as they reached the backyard.
He nodded, weighing his options. He could go with her and risk the wrath of Granny, or suck it up and get the lunch over with. “I’ll let you know.”
She gave him a little wave before she turned and started for her car that was parked in the front of the house.
Wanting to have a little more time to compose himself, he paused—watching everybody through the window. They were gathered around the table, teasing and laughing. Even his grandma sat there in her white shirt embroidered with bright flowers, a bright smile on her face. It was the picture of the perfect family. And it didn’t include him.
Ethan sighed. He knew that as soon as he walked through the door, an awkward tension would thicken the air and weigh down the room. He bent his head, wishing there was another option. Wishing he’d gone with Laurel. But he hadn’t, and now there was nothing left to do but go on inside and face the music, even if the music sounded like a bunch of off-key violins playing in a horror film.
Ethan took a tentative step toward the house when he heard the very distinct sound of an engine not turning over. He walked around to the front yard and saw Laurel in her car, head resting on her steering wheel, obviously frustrated. She sat up and tried again. Nothing.
She had been through so much, all in one morning—the kitten, the fridge, and now her car wouldn’t start. He hesitated, not wanting to embarrass her.
She looked up and saw him coming toward her. She blinked a few times and even though he could tell she was on the verge of tears, she put on a smile and rolled down her window.
He leaned on the car. “You know, I’ve been craving some of those beignets. Any chance you want to get some with me?”
Her smile turned genuine. “I’d love to. But what do I do with my car?”
“We have a mechanic on the ranch. I’ll have him take a look and drop it off as soon as he can. And don’t worry about the cost. He’s on our payroll, so he’d get paid either way.” That wasn’t technically the truth, but they did have someone who would come out and take a look and then Ethan would just pay the bill.
She shrank down a little. “Thanks.” She sounded both grateful and exhausted.
“Don’t even think twice about it,” he said as he opened her car door for her. They went around to the back where his car was parked and, once again, he opened the door for her. She carefully got in, lifting her feet to avoid the frame, and Ethan couldn’t help but scan those long sun-kissed legs as she did so. He gave a small cough and forced himself to be a gentleman and look away.
Once Laurel was in, he closed the car door and went around to the driver’s side. He climbed in and started the car, and it was then he remembered that he had been listening to the CD in the rental car’s disc changer. Driving home, he had turned up the volume, trying to get his mind off Laurel. He hadn’t cared that it had been Celine Dion belting out “My Heart Will Go On.”
Until now.
He quickly reached out to turn it off.
She turned to him with wide eyes, covering her mouth as she giggled. “Ethan Wyle! Don’t tell me you’re a Celine fan?”
He couldn’t help but laugh right along with her. The tension of her broken car and his broken family snapped like a twig, replaced with their uncontrollable laughter. After that, the ride was comfortable. They talked about everything from the weather in California to her time at ASU. Usually Ethan hated small talk, but with Laurel, nothing was forced, conversation came easily.
They made a quick stop at Bisbee Coffee, ordering lattes and a bag of beignets.
“Thanks again for the ride and, well, everything else. You managed to take a horrible, no good, very bad day and turn it around.”
He smiled. Once again, she had t
urned him into a knight in shining armor when he hadn’t really done all that much. “No problem. I was happy to do it. Besides, not only do I get beignets with a beautiful girl, I got out of the dreaded family lunch.” He held up the bag. “Speaking of, where should we eat these?”
“Well, my studio’s right around the corner, we can go there?”
“Perfect. Then I can see some more of your art.” He smiled but she seemed to freeze for half a second.
“Oh. Um, yes. It’s not, like, the best. Some are still in progress.”
“Miss Laurel, you do not have to explain your studio to me. We can just eat here if you’d rather, but I have to admit, I’d love to see your work.”
She took a deep breath in and smiled. “Well, then, follow me.”
They walked down the path lined with a row of old shops until they came to a building with heavy crown molding, a crumbling brick façade, and an ally right next to it. There was an old sign in the store window that read “available, inquire within” that had fallen and now had a sheen of dirt covering it.
She opened the door and he caught it while she walked in. The walls were covered in dust and various eras of peeling wallpaper. She led him to a wooden staircase that creaked with each step he took. She looked back at him.
“You’re a bit bigger than I am. Please don’t break my staircase.” She smiled.
After a few more steps, she turned to unveil a loft. Light poured in from a wall of windows and enveloped the room in afternoon sunshine. Drop cloths and newspaper covered the wooden floor, trying and failing to catch all the splotches of bright paint. Small pieces of art were strung up everywhere. They hung from clotheslines or were pinned to the wall. After scanning the pictures, his gaze went back to her. The afternoon light clung to her curls, her cheeks, to the curve of her neck.
“So, what do you think?” She held her arms out wide, a few drops of her latte spilling as she did so. The sun lit her from behind. She looked like an angel.
“Beautiful,” he said, not taking his eyes off of her.
She lowered her gaze, her cheeks flushed. “Here, have a seat.” She took his drink and the bag from him, setting both lattes on a table beside a bench she then sat on. She opened the bag and took out a beignet, powdered sugar spilling on her pink T-shirt.
