Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
MACK
G race’s beautiful face is peaceful on the pillow beside mine. Last night was a combination of agony, realizations, and the best fuckin’ sex of my life. Who knew the asshole showing up would drive us together in such a profound way. It’s a blessing and a curse, all rolled into one.
The night turned out to be one I’ll not soon forget. Apparently, all the wolves have come down from the mountains, literally and figuratively. With the actual wolves howling last night between the thunder and lightning strikes, the air was electric. And not in all the best ways.
I flicked Harry a quick text last night. Something about this situation has my hackles up. Small towns have a way of banding together when one of our own is in trouble, and I want the old man and my brothers in the loop, in case shit gets real.
I’ll talk to Huddo more about it this morning. Maybe call Reed. We’re working the green horses at the ass crack of dawn. Typical Hudson. More and more like the old man every damn day. Good for him. There are worse people to turn out like.
I ease from the bed, not wanting to wake Grace. Slipping into the bathroom, I wash up and dress in my work clothes. I lift my hat from the wall by the door as I tiptoe in socked feet from the bedroom. I set the kettle to boil on the stove and grab a mug, wanting to save the good coffee for Gracie.
The hot water steams as I pour it over the instant grounds. Dashing a little milk into it, I take my first sip as Huddo’s truck pulls in near the house. His busted old truck looks worse for wear in the glint from the light dust of snow covering everything outside.
Sweet Jesus, he must have been up before the damn birds. He kills the engine and wanders for the barn. I grab up the coffee mug and find a bagel from the fridge, smothering it with cream cheese. I slide my boots on at the door and head out. I close the front door with a soft click and tear a portion of the bagel off with my teeth.
I’ve finished my breakfast when I reach the barn and chase it down with the last of the coffee, leaving the mug on the rail. The clip-clop of shod hooves along the cement wash-down bay by the barn lets me know where my brother is. I make my way to the stall of the young mare I’m riding today. After last night’s storm and the howling wolves, I’m hoping she’s not too skittish today.
My hopes are dashed the second I lay eyes on her. Her head is up as she weaves at the stall door. Fuckin’ awesome. I lift the halter from the hook by her stall and slip inside. She steps back, shaking her head. “Yeah, I know, girl. The wolves have us all up in our heads.”
She nickers as I wait for her to lower her head. I slide the halter over her head, securing the buckle, and lead her out. She hesitates but follows with a little coaxin’. I saddle her up in the barn; the less stimuli, the better right now. Soft clucking sounds come from outside—Huddo’s already into it. I walk the mare to the round yard, finding my older brother holding the two long lines behind the gelding he’s working with. Line training to increase the horse’s receptiveness to commands.
Hudson always does things the most thorough way. It’s what makes him a brilliant horseman. Which makes for sought-after mounts. All his effort and attention to detail pays off. Pride swells as I watch him talk to the gelding, reining him back to a walk. He drops the lines and walks to the horse’s head, patting his neck as he praises him. With a brief rub between the gelding’s ears, he wanders to the rail and leans on it.
“Mornin’.” He grins at me as he eyes me over, readjusting the Stetson on his head, like there’s something different about me from last night after the family text about the new Joel development. The wind picks up, its icy tendrils slipping beneath my coat. I zip it up and the mare shies away from me.
“Hey,” I grunt. “You sure this one’s ready? Little skittish.”
“Basic gait change commands. A little groundwork. Take her slow. You know how to do that.” He winks.
Fuck off, Huddo.
As if what lies between Grace and I is anything like training a goddamn horse. I swipe up a blade of golden grass poking through the rails. Sliding it between my teeth, I chew it, studying the mare. The snowfall from the early hours dusts the rails. The hard earth under my boots is probably half frozen. Not a place you wanna fall.
I decide it’s now or never—for the both of us. Sometimes you gotta bite the bullet and charge ahead. I gather the reins up and slide a foot into the stirrup. She moves on her feet, and I sway with her, my foot still lodged in the stirrup. Pushing the hat on my head down tighter, I swing up into the saddle. Her head’s up instantly.
Sweet Jesus.
I squeeze her forward with my legs, hoping to move past whatever wound her up. She walks on, and I send her around the circular yard a few times before urging her into a trot. She bursts forward. I take up the slack on the reins as her head pops up again, her gait too choppy.
“Woah up. Mack. She’s not listening,” Huddo calls out.
No shit.
I rein her in, but she rounds her back.
Dammit.
She hops before lowering her head. Ears flat back.
Fuck.
I wrap my legs around her tighter and grip the pommel, knowing what’s coming next. She bucks. I ride her through it. My legs are tensing with the exertion of holding my seat to the saddle. Huddo leans on the rail now, studying me and then the horse. “Calm her down and try again.”
He keeps watching as I walk her out until her head is low and swinging. Until she is relaxed. It takes a full five minutes to rein her attention back to my commands.
“Push her into a lope, keep her head down.” Huddo waves a hand into the yard.
I sink my seat and squeeze her forward. She breaks into a faster gait. I let out a breath when we reach a full go round.
“Great!” Huddo says with a slap to the rail.
The mare shies. I falter and grip the pommel.
Jesus.
This girl is flighty as they come.
“Push her out,” Huddo offers, knowing we need to get her mind back to listening to my signals. I squeeze her back into the steady lope. She does two full rounds before she settles and her head drops. I relax in the saddle.
Huddo is swapping out his long lines for reins. He mounts the gelding and walks him through the large yard. I keep the mare loping around before reining her in and changing direction. From the walk, I send her to a lope as Huddo trots past on the gelding. The mare tosses her head.
She sinks her head and bucks.
“Ah!” I grunt out.
I fumble for the pommel. Gripping the reins, it’s like I’m grabbing for thin air. She spins. My aching legs give way. I fly from the saddle and slam into the rails with my side. Shoulder hitting the cold ground, I groan when my back slams into the post behind me with a crack. Air is sucked from my lungs. I lay gasping. Burning fills my lungs. I roll over.
Something snaps in my back. Stabbing pain seizes my muscles. “Fu—swee—moth—a—Jesus...” I grip the rail, panting through the blinding pain.
“Hell! Mack.”
Huddo’s off his horse and climbing through the rail at my feet. His Stetson falls from his head and hits the dirt as he sinks by my side. “You okay, buddy?” Hudson’s placating words grind my gears. I try to push to sit up.
I can’t.
What the ? —
“Help me up, will ya?” I grunt.
He slaps a hand into mine and pulls me up. Pain screams through my side. I pull in a breath, and it burns like a motherfucker. I growl out a moan.
“I’ll get Grace,” Huddo breathes.
“No!”
I don’t want her worrying about this, too. I push to sit up again. This time, I manage to make it halfway to upright before the pain blinds me again. I groan with the next breath. Dammit, must have busted a rib.
“For fuck’s sake,” I growl.
Now, of all times, I can’t afford to be injured. With that asshole hovering around. A predator biding his time to close in on his damn prey. Grace needs me.
I slam a fist onto the icy ground.
“You wanna talk about it?” Huddo breathes.
“How the hell am I supposed to keep her safe if I’m fuckin’ laid up?”
His brows lower. His bright blue eyes flood with concern. “You think she’ll need protectin’?”
“I don’t know. But I’m not leavin’ it to chance.” I clench my jaw and roll onto all fours. Hudson stands and gives me some room. I stand on wobbly feet. Huddo eyes me over, and I take a step.
Instantly faltering as my foot meets the ground, and my legs buckle. “I do?—”
Huddo catches me before I hit the ground. My vision turns spotty, and the ringing in my ears all but drowns out his words when his tightened eyes find mine and he says, “ Now . I’m gettin’ Grace.”
Grace stands over me. Fuzziness traps me like a bundle of heavy blankets. A heady buzz fills my chest. My body is mostly numb. My head is hollow and like a rock at the same time. I tilt it and the room spins.
The hospital bed is too hard and there is no way in hell I’m stayin’ here. She shoulders her bag, running a hand through her messy bun. What I wouldn’t give to let that gorgeous hair down and pull her onto my lap. Who cares if there’s other people in the emergency department.
Maybe I’ve had too much green whistle . . .
Soft lips brush over my forehead before planting there. Lifting my head, I look up with moony eyes. The grin on my face is too wide and absolutely automatic. I breathe her in.
She stands back up, a smile warring on her face with something sadder until she schools it back and the smile wins out. “You’re high, Mackinlay.” She releases a strangled, small chuckle, and her smile slips again. “Better than in pain, though.” The last few words are no more than a whisper.
Why is she whispering?
“Why’re you?—”
The curtain explodes.
No, it shifts sideways. A white glowing figure floats toward the bed. I shake my head. The white glowing figure sharpens to a doctor in a lab coat. I clear my throat. That could’ve been awkward. I huff a laugh. He cocks a brow before flipping the paper in the chart. “I see the pain meds have kicked in. Good.”
“What did the X-ray say?” Grace’s voice sounds funny.
Not ha-ha funny either.
Just wobbly or something.
“It’s not the best news. However, it could have been worse.” He sounds mean.
Grace sits on the side of the bed. I feel like I’m going to slide right into her any second now. Like down a slippery slide. I wonder if they have one?
“How so?” she asks, softly.
“The old damage from the incident on tour has been agitated. Nothing major. I predict it will take a month or so before he regains full mobility. The lower back is, unfortunately, unforgiving when it comes to repeated injury. He will need a cane, for lateral support. A brace to help with the two hairline fractures in the lumbar area. Something like his previous recovery process will see him right.”
“Who are you talkin’ about, doc?” I say with a slow drawl.
Grace smiles at me sadly.
No, please don’t be sad, my gorgeous Gracie girl. She drags her gaze from me, back up to the doctor.
Look at him! Lookin’ at my girl. I push up off the pillow. I think I can take him...
“Mackinlay, it’s okay. We will get through this. You did it once, with way worse odds. Baby, you can do it again. I won’t let you fall, I promise.” Her face is so close.
I love her so much.
“I love you, Gracie,” I mumble.
She dots a kiss on my cheek. “I know you do.”
The buzzing fades a little. I scrunch my face up. Something stabs my side. “Ugh, ouch.” My hands curl to fists. But I can’t feel the skin over my knuckles. That’s odd.
I try to shift away from it.
“Try not to move until we have your brace on, Mackinlay,” the white man says and disappears through the wavy green thing.
Arms wind around my head, the bed dips. Her vanilla and peaches surround me. I slam my eyes shut.
Her breathing gets faster, and something wet hits my shoulder as she starts to shake. I don’t want to move. I want to keep her wrapped around me forever.
The fuzziness swallows me whole.