My Ellie (The Perfectly Paired #1)

Chapter 27

Colton

The boys and I wander into the arena just before Ellie’s practice is scheduled to start. The rain is coming down in buckets and Sweetie makes it known that this kind of weather is far from her favorite as she rushes to get under the arena roof.

I try not to bristle as I spot Peter sitting between the twins in the gallery section. None of them are speaking and, to be honest, they don’t look like three people who just shared a wonderful night together.

Charlotte yawns and angles her body so that she’s perched on the edge of her seat, arms crossed as she watches the arena entrance.

I drag a couple of barrels into our section of the floor, pacing it out before mounting Sweetie and giving the boys a quick demonstration. They’re progressing onto cantering around the barrels instead of trotting, which is super exciting and makes them feel like real cowboys . I remind them not to go too fast and to keep their balance before they set off for their first run-through, trotting the course for the first couple of tries.

“It’s really not that hard, I don’t understand how you’re having any issues with it at all. My routines were far more complex.”

I glance towards the arena entrance to see Ellie atop Remi, her mom walking beside them with her riding whip trailing along the sandy floor.

“The timings are just a little close together, that’s all I’m saying—”

“Well, don’t!” She shrieks, “Don’t just say. If you’re doubting the routine, then you’re doubting me. I pieced these steps together for you, I designed this routine, and you will execute it.”

I watch as Ellie opens her mouth to speak again. I’m silently urging her to do it, to stand up for herself. I’ve never heard her critique her mom, or her routine before, so for her to even mention the timings being a little close together has me feeling insanely proud.

I tense as her mom takes a step towards her, Remi shifts on his feet and I watch as Ellie clutches her reigns tighter. I hold my breath and bite the inside of my mouth as Ellie’s mom raises the riding whip slightly, now gripping it with both hands. Sweetie’s ears prick, her head swinging in their direction.

I want to ride over there, say something stupid and diffuse the tension—maybe ask her mom how much she would charge to teach me how to ride dressage. Maybe then she’d see how amazing her daughter really is, because I’d make a mockery out of any routine she deigned to choreograph for me.

Two sides of me are warring, the side that wants to protect Ellie at all costs, and the side that knows she’s a fully grown woman who’s working towards something that mere mortals, like me, would never dream of achieving.

As awful as Ellie’s mom is, I don’t think Ellie needs a savior. But, hell, I’ll be whatever she wants me to be.

I watch as Ellie closes her mouth, bowing her head before she and Remi ride further into the arena. She’s smart, likely didn’t want to get her mom too riled up before her practice session. I let myself breathe again as she nears our side of the arena. She catches my eye and gives me a little wave, a half-smile on her face. I swear I see her shoulders relax a little when I beam back at her.

She gets to work on practicing her cues, giving Remi lots of encouragement whenever he executes something perfectly. She really loves that horse, it’s obvious in the way she asks him to things with a gentle hand. I’ve caught the end of some of Peter’s training sessions when waiting for Ellie, and found myself flinching at the cues he gives his own mare.

After forty-five minutes of practice, Cold Play begins to blare over the speakers and Ellie sets herself up to start her routine. I watch her mother take a step forward, whip swishing on the ground next to her as Remi breaks out into a collected trot.

Edmund and George are playing around with their lassos, having run their ponies ragged on the barrels.

I follow each of Ellie’s transitions, catch every cue she gives to Remi and hold my breath as they come to the section of the routine that she’s been struggling with. They go straight from the serpentine to the pirouettes and Remi’s timing looks perfect, I even see Ellie smile as they move into a collected canter.

I want to cheer, to let her know that she’s doing so well, but I manage to contain myself. The song comes to an end as Ellie and Remi make their way towards their final letter, ending their routine as silence falls over the arena.

I can hear her breathing, hear Remi panting as her coach claps his hands. “That was brilliant, Eleanor. Truly, great work—”

“The piaffe needs work.” Her mom cuts in, sounding decidedly unimpressed.

I cough out a laugh in disbelief, earning a few sharp looks from the gallery, but Ellie’s mom pays me no attention.

The team coach doesn’t say another word as Ellie dismounts and Edith approaches her.

“There’s room for improvement.” She says curtly before giving Remi a cursory glance. “I know you can do better.”

Is nothing good enough for this woman? I can’t imagine how tiring it must be to be around her all day—how demoralizing it must be to be to be told that you need to be better at every turn.

Ellie just nods her head, “We’ll work on the piaffes.”

Her mom gives her a dismissive grunt before turning back to the coach and discussing something about the team tape analysis meeting.

Ellie flicks her eyes to me before exiting the arena and I’m so relieved to see her smile before she and Remi duck out of the building.

George and Edmund clean their stalls in record time as they tell me about their upcoming trip to Switzerland. They’re just returning with the empty wheelbarrow when I ask, “Hey boys, where’s the nearest spot I could buy some art supplies around here?”

They each set their wheelbarrow handle down and wipe their hands on their trousers.

“There’s a small shop in town, we get some of our school supplies from there sometimes.” George says as he inspects his fingernails.

“You could have had some of ours, but we do most of that kind of thing with our mother. We might have some supplies lying around in the house, I’m sure father could order some for you—”

“Thank you, Ed, but I’m looking to get some stuff as a gift, so I’d like to pick out a few things and make it look kinda nice.”

“Would this gift be for a special friend of yours?” Edmund narrows his eyes at me and rests a hand on the stable wall.

“Oh, shut up Ed.” George dismisses his younger brother with a shake of his head before giving him a gentle push towards the exit. “See you tomorrow, Colton. Hopefully this rain clears up. ”

I can’t help but laugh to myself as they bicker on their way out.

“Ellie’s favorite color is blue!” Edmund calls back to me before he’s yanked out of sight.

I suppose I haven’t been so subtle in the interest I show in Ellie and her endeavors, but these darn kids seem to figure out everything

I pull out my phone and send Rory a quick text.

Colton: I don’t suppose you’ve got time to head into town today?

I don’t expect to see the little text bubble pop up so quickly. He’s been a little distant over the past couple of days, and I’ve been too busy to seek him out.

Rory: I’ve got about an hour before I have to load up a couple of horses, I was going to ask you to help me anyway. Meet me at my car.

I jog out into the rain, finding Rory grinning at me through the windshield of the tiny car. I hop into the drivers’ seat and throw my soaked hat into the back.

“I’m driving, huh?” I pant, looking out into the sheets of rain falling from the sky.

“It’ll be grand practice for you, I’m just after texting my mam so it’s up to you to get us there in one piece.” He glances back down at his phone, holding his keys up with one hand.

“You place more trust in me than you should.” I shake my head with a smile before taking the keys from him.

The drive isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, and the nearby town of Tewkesbury is only about fifteen minutes away from the estate—in a direction I’ve never headed in before. By the time I’m pulling up to park in the market square, the rain has let up and the sun is trying to peak through the heavy clouds.

Most of the buildings are constructed with the same gray stone as the pub, the ones that aren’t are covered in old, exposed beams. The square is relatively quiet, but there are some people milling around on the damp streets. I’ve never seen such a small collection of store fronts. There’s a pharmacy, a coffee shop, and a bank on the other side of the square.

“Do you know where the art store is?” I ask Rory as I take the key out of the ignition.

“Sure,” He doesn’t look up from his phone but lifts a finger to point, “Down that little alleyway, take a left before the dead end. I’ll wait in the car.”

I thank him before hopping out of the car and heading for the alleyway between the bank and the pharmacy. There’s a sign for a tea shop hanging on the other side of the alley, and I’m pleasantly surprised to find a sweet courtyard garden between the gray stone walls.

I take a left before the dead end and find myself in a street that looks like it belongs in a really, really old TV show.

The art shop is small, but easy to find. It sits opposite a tiny bakery with a striped, yellow awning, and there are string lights in the windows. I feel like a cartoon character being led towards it by the sweet smells wafting from its open door.

The sound of my phone buzzing snaps me out of my trance, and I grab it from my back pocket before turning in the direction of the art shop.

“Hey, Meemaw.” I hold the phone close to my own face as I enter the store. The clerk standing behind the desk is a teenage girl, and she doesn’t pay too much attention to me as I wave to her in greeting.

“Oh, my boy, it is good to hear your voice.” She shouts into the phone and I make my way towards the back of the store. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing real good, Meemaw, how are you keeping?” I find myself in front of a selection of colored pencils and kitschy pencil sharpeners.

“Oh, I’m just fine, nothing to complain about.” She trails off before continuing, “I just wanted to call and give you a little update on your brother and Christina.” She lowers her voice, her face pressing closer to the camera—she’s getting better at angling the phone, but she’s holding it so close that the picture is blurry.

“Are you calling me to gossip, Meemaw?”

“Me? No, not at all, just thought you might like to know that Wyatt’s been taking her out once a week.” She pauses, “Ice cream dates, trips to the mall—and having her over to study, up in his room. Now, I make sure he keeps that door open, but you know how young boys are— ”

“I’ll talk to him, Meemaw.” She huffs a sigh of relief, and I can’t help but smile.

“That’s my boy, what are you up to?” She moves the camera away from her face and the corner of her glasses comes into view, “Are you in a store?”

“I am, I’m just buying a gift for my friend Ellie.”

“Oh, that nice girl that helped with Wyatt’s prom. Is it her birthday? I’ll have to send over my Funfetti cake recipe. What are you getting her?”

“No, not her birthday, this is a just because kinda gift. She loves art—drawing and painting—but she ain’t had much time for it lately, she works real hard and I thought this might help her unwind a bit.”

“Oh,” She says softly, “Well, that sounds like a wonderful idea, Colton. Did you let your friends know that they’re welcome to come and visit? Ellie should come down, maybe you should give me her number and I’ll invite her over text.”

“I invited them, I promise. I’ll let Ellie know that you’re real keen to meet her.”

“Alright, well I’ll let you get back to your shopping. Don’t forget to speak to that brother of yours.”

“Okay, Meemaw, I’ll speak to you soon. Love you.” She kisses the phone several times before hanging up.

I turn my attention back to the task at hand and start to fill my hands with pencils before venturing into the next aisle. The art store isn’t large, but there’s a lot of supplies to choose from. The teenage clerk finds me next to the sketch pads and offers me a wire shopping basket.

“Oh, thank you so much.” I fumble to accept the basket and offload everything I’ve collected as she hurries back to the front of the store.

I end up settling on a couple of different sketching pads of various sizes, to make it easier for Ellie to draw or paint whenever and wherever she might be. I was so stoked to find some special watercolor pencils that had come up in some research I’d done last night, so I grabbed a set of those as well as some paints and brushes.

My favorite find has to be the tiny American flag pencil sharpener I managed to find at the very back of one of the shelves—I’m not sure how it got there, but I’m taking it as a sign that I was meant to gift it to her.

By the time I make it to the register to check out, I feel like I have half of the store in my basket. The teenager rings me up quickly, making small talk about the weather before running my card through the register.

“Here,” She turns from the register and plucks a light blue ribbon bow off the wall display behind her. “Don’t give the gift to her in a plastic bag, use this.” She drops the bow into the bag with the kind of unimpressed expression only a sixteen-year-old girl can achieve .

“I appreciate that, you have a nice day.” I nod to her and tip my hat before making a speedy exit. I still have a couple of minutes before Rory and I need to head back to the estate, so I run into the small bakery opposite the art shop.

A plump looking woman is bustling around behind the counter, her navy-colored apron absolutely covered in flour. She pauses as I enter, eyebrows shooting up as if she weren’t expecting any customers.

“Hello, ma’am,” I glance at my phone to make sure I don’t have any hurry up texts from Rory before continuing, “Can I get a box of your best pastries? I don’t mind what they are, or how expensive they might be, I just need ‘em kinda quick.”

Wordlessly, she dives into action, piling baked goods into a box before placing it on top of the counter. I extend my card, smiling as she frantically wipes her flour covered hands on her apron before plucking it from my fingers. She runs it through her machine and hands it back to me with a smile.

“Thank you kindly.” I tip my hat to her before placing the overflowing box of pastries under my arm and heading for the door. “It smells like a little slice of heaven in here!” I call back to her as I exit.

The blue sky is just starting to peek out from behind the heavy, gray clouds as I make it back to Rory’s car. He’s still engrossed in his phone when I drop myself into the driver’s seat.

“I’ve got something for you.” He looks up from the screen, a puzzled look on his face. I hand the large box of baked good over to him and his eyebrows shoot up. “There ain’t usually a problem so big that it can’t be soothed by a little sugar and butter, I don’t know what’s troubling you—but if you need to talk, I’ve got two good ears.” He’s silent as he takes in my words, and the pastries sitting in his lap.

I clap him on the shoulder before taking the keys and starting up the car.

“This is... really nice.” I hear the box open as we pull out of the market square. “Thank you.” He adds quietly. The way he says it makes me feel awful for not checking in sooner, for not telling him he had somewhere to come if he needed to share anything.

The sound of pastry layers cracking distracts me from my thoughts, followed closely by happy humming. “This doesn’t get you out of helping me load those horses, just so you know.” I look over to find him smiling at me, chocolate frosting sticking to the freckled skin around his mouth.

I can’t help but return his smile as we make our way back down the narrow country roads, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”