Chapter 16
TRENT
Itook her down the long dirt path behind the house, past the hay barn and around the old oak that had been split by lightning when I was sixteen. Around the bend, pastures opened up in front of us, wide swatches of land dotted with shapes lazily flicking their tails in the sunshine.
According to Colby, most of these were overpriced lawn ornaments, but between Sadie and me, we’d bought up or rescued a lot of retired racehorses.
Personally, I’d told myself I was doing it for the bloodlines.
Sadie hadn’t bothered lying to herself or anyone else about it.
She’d simply brought home the horses no one else had snapped up.
Charlotte sucked in a breath beside me when she saw them, leaning forward and shading her eyes with her hand. “There are so many.”
I sighed, shutting down the engine and dropping my hat back on my head. “Yep. Too many if you ask me and not all of them really earn their keep.”
“But hey, they’re pretty.” She grinned at me and climbed out before I could even think about opening the door for her.
By the time my feet hit the ground, she was already halfway to the fence, much faster now that she wasn’t wearing those ridiculous heels. Dirt crunched under my boots. It was already getting too dang hot to be alive out here, but Charlotte didn’t even seem to notice.
She was too busy watching a gelding trot up to the fence, and she lit up, like actually lit up, with a smile so bright it damn near knocked me backward. Slowly extending her hand toward him, she turned to look at me over her shoulder, those blue eyes bright when they met mine.
“Can I touch him?” she asked excitedly, her cheeks glowing as much because of the sun as the exhilaration. “I know he’s not a pet, but—”
“Go ahead.” I slid my fingers into my pockets to the first knuckles, leaning against the fence and watching.
She carefully offered him a sniff of the back of her hand.
The gelding tossed his head and came closer, nudging her hand and leaning into her palm.
She stroked him and bent her head toward his, murmuring to him with soft, gentle words I couldn’t hear.
It kind of sounded like she was telling the horse about all the adventures they would go on together, but I couldn’t be sure.
Meanwhile, I was feeling pretty jealous of my mom for some reason, and now, I wasn’t even sure I liked Charlotte paying this much attention to a horse. My insides churned, making me question my own sanity in more ways than one.
The realization that I was jealous of my mom and a horse hit so hard that I tripped over it internally, coughed, and stared at the ground like I no longer knew which way was up or down.
“Sorry,” I muttered, clearing my throat when I realized I’d missed something. “What did you say?”
She glanced at me, a smirk tugging her lips like she knew she’d caught me drifting. “I asked what their names are.”
“Oh.” I gestured toward the gelding nosing her shoulder through the rails. “That’s Chili Pepper.”
She cocked her head and frowned a little. “Chili Pepper.”
“Yep.”
“What about the one beside him?” She tipped her head at the curious palomino who’d wandered closer and was eyeing Charlotte like she was trying to decide whether to come in for some petting as well. “What’s his name?”
“Her name is Firecracker.”
“Firecracker,” she repeated, fighting a snort as she glanced back at the horse.
I lifted my hand toward a chestnut a little ways into the field. “That one over there is—”
“Let me guess,” she cut in. “Thunder McBoomBoom?”
I narrowed my eyes. “No.”
She raised a dark eyebrow at me, amusement sparkling in those clear blue eyes. “Are you sure?”
“It’s Hurricane Hustle,” I admitted.
She burst out laughing, pressing hand to her stomach like she couldn’t breathe. “Oh my God. Those are all terrible names. What were you thinking?”
“They’re racing names,” I protested. “They came with the horses.”
“But you kept them?”
I shrugged, but there was a grin trying to break free on my lips. She was the first person ever to have called me out on the names I’d always thought were pretty dumb myself. “They answer to them.”
“Hurricane Hustle?” She gave the chestnut a pitying look. “Sweetheart, no.”
I leaned my forearms on the top rail of the fence, shaking my head. “You’re real funny for someone wearing shoes that cost more than this entire barn.”
She stuck her tongue out at me. Actually stuck her tongue out. I glanced at it, then wondered why my jeans were suddenly a little tighter. Lord, help me.
“Are you ever going to stop complaining about my footwear?” She lifted one foot, pointedly sticking it out toward me. “These are ordinary running shoes. Look.”
My gaze didn’t have to drop away from hers to know what she was wearing. I’d already memorized every inch of her outfit without even trying. Skin tight, too short black shorts, a purple top that looked like it had been painted onto her body.
“Ordinary running shoes if you’re a professional athlete maybe,” I said. “Those are specialty store grade. Custom order?”
“Fine, but they’re also really comfortable.” She turned back to the fence again and Chili Pepper stretched his neck out, bumping her palm.
She stroked his nose without hesitation this time, her touch gentle and confident. Watching it did something weird to my chest, but then she was looking at me again and I stared back at her, noticing without wanting to that her irises were the exact same color as the summer sky.
“Did you buy the horses because you wanted to be a cowboy so bad?” she teased.
I pushed off the fence and planted a shoulder against one of the posts, letting my arm hang loose and my voice drop lower.
“I am a cowboy, Charlotte.” She didn’t look away from the horse, but I saw the shiver that ran through her lean frame.
Knowing that I had her attention, I tipped my hat back and smirked.
“Bred, born, and raised. This isn’t a Halloween costume. ”
She finally glanced up at me, and for one suspended second, the air thickened between us, and not just because of the humidity. Something seemed to zap and charge, and her lips parted, but before she could say anything, Hurricane Hustle snorted loudly, completely shattering the moment.
Charlotte jumped a little, glancing back at the horse. “Rude.”
I chuckled. “He’s got opinions. In this case, I think it’s safe to say he’s on my side.”
She stroked the gelding again, her shoulders relaxing and eyes gentle. I hadn’t been expecting her to go soft like that around the horses, but it seemed she’d moved on from calling me a wannabe cowboy and was burying herself up to her forearms in Chili Pepper’s mane.
I leaned on the post, trying not to watch her too closely. Trying not to think about how she’d looked at my mom earlier, all bright-eyed and laughing like she’d been dropped directly into a dream come true.
I didn’t care about my mom’s attention. She could have it. I just wanted her to look that happy with me.
After a few more minutes of loving on every horse that came her way, she finally glanced at me again. “I like your mom.”
A startled laugh burst out of me. “Really? She’s a lot for some folks.”
“Sure,” she admitted, smiling as the horse nudged her shoulder again. “But she’s also warm, and honest, and maybe a little bit obsessed with you.”
Great. Just what I needed, Mom imprinting on Charlotte like she’d found her next project. Still, hearing Charlotte say she liked her warmed me in a place I hadn’t known needed warming.
“All of which is just another way of saying that she’s bossy and overbearing,” I said. “She follows what she thinks of as tradition so strictly that there’s no wiggle room with her and she’s completely set in her ways.”
“So am I,” she shot back, lifting an eyebrow at me. “Before you try to deny it, remember that you willingly agreed to bring me here with you without knowing very much about me. That’s on you, Cowboy.”
I snorted. “Yeah. I guess it is.”
Nodding slowly, she moved on to Firecracker, and for a few moments, all I heard was the horse’s shifting and breathing, Charlotte’s soft little hum as she rubbed the palomino’s cheek.
But since we’d ventured into mother territory, the thing that had been chewing at me since last night finally pushed itself out.
“What’d you mean in the truck?” I asked quietly. “About wanting to know how it felt for your mom?”
Instantly, she went still. Not cold. Just frozen, her hand dropping from the horse’s muzzle and her fingers curling slightly. When she looked at me again, there was a soft kind of sincerity in her eyes. That same brief flash of vulnerability I’d seen before but it had never lasted this long.
“She died when I was eleven,” Charlotte said quietly, her voice steady but thin around the edges. “You must’ve known that.”
“Yeah, but Jameson and I were headed for college. If I remember correctly, Alex was already there.” I shook my head. “It was something sad that happened to my friends. I guess I just didn’t think much about what it was like for you.”
Her arms folded across her chest. It didn’t look defensive, though. More like she needed a hug and was giving it to herself. Part of me wanted to pull her into my arms instead. A big part. But I doubted we were quite there in our non-relationship.
“I didn’t have her around for anything,” she murmured. “All the regular teenage girl stuff. I’m sure you know what I mean, but it’s not even just that she missed all that. She also never got to see who I became. Who I’m still becoming.”
“I’m sorry, Charlotte,” I said, my heart aching over a pain so old and yet, so fresh in her voice.
She inhaled a deep breath, straightening a little and giving her head a tiny shake. “Anyway, all I meant was that I wanted to know how she felt, being needed. Being that important to someone. Being loved in a way that doesn’t go away.”
The rawness of her words made my chest feel like it was bleeding. Like someone had stuck a feral cat between my ribs and it was tearing my insides to shreds. “I thought you were a spoiled rich girl.”
It popped out before I could filter the thought, and her head snapped toward me, her eyes wide and shiny with incredulity. “Wow. That’s fantastic. I share something like that with you—”
“No, wait.” I held up a hand. “I mean, sure, you kind of are.”
“Trent.”
I groaned. “Shit, this is all coming out wrong, but the point is that you’re also a lot more than just that and I didn’t realize it before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you’re not just the spoiled little princess people seem to think you are, but I don’t think you want anyone to know that. Not really.”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “They know.”
“Do they? Do they really know how much you do for so many kids who need someone exactly like you? You volunteer like it’s your job, Charlotte.
It’s not just a pastime for you or something you do when you’re bored.
I’m guessing it’s because you didn’t have your mom around.
Like maybe you’re trying to be that person now for someone else who needs it. ”
She looked at me differently, like she was seeing past the denim, the boots, and the ranch grit, and looking straight into places people didn’t normally aim for. Finally, she nodded. “You really get it now, don’t you?”
And damn, if that didn’t make me feel ten feet tall, but I cleared my throat again, trying to knock the warmth off my face. “Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late.” She nudged my shoulder with hers, smiling.
She ducked her head and moved along to Hurricane Hustle, who’d finally also come over. A warm, easy quiet settled between us. It was weirdly natural. Nice.
She moved along the fence line, letting each horse lean into her hand and murmuring things I couldn’t hear. It lasted for a few peaceful minutes, which naturally meant that something had to ruin it.
That something was her. “Why are you still single? I mean, why did you build a mansion just to rattle around in it by yourself?”
I groaned. “Really?”
She shrugged, all innocent curiosity when she glanced up at me. “What? I’m just trying to understand the man behind the hat.”
“The man behind…” I dragged a hand down my face. “Fine. I thought I’d be married with kids by now. Is that what you wanted to hear? Because that was the plan, but life had other ideas.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Instead, I’ve been to twelve weddings this year,” I admitted on a rough sigh. “Part of the wedding party in eight of them.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “And you didn’t find someone? Even there?”
I shook my head. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t try very hard.”
I hadn’t tried at all, actually. Hell, at one of the weddings, Alex had literally hidden me when a rather persistent bridesmaid had refused to take no for an answer. But Charlotte didn’t need to know that.
She was staring up at me like I’d suddenly become a gigantic puzzle she was intent on solving. “Why not?”
I stared at her. She stared right back, unblinking and relentless.
“You ask too many questions,” I said, more baffled than annoyed. Self-reflection wasn’t my strong suit.
“And you avoid too many answers.” She lifted her chin, taking a small step closer to me, those eyes still fixed on mine. “Look, I just want to understand why you let Alex talk you into this. Into us. This whole scheme. You don’t even like me. Isn’t it a huge waste of your time?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Standing there with sunlight hitting her hair, sweat glinting on her neck, and her hand gentle on the horse’s cheek, she didn’t look like a waste of anything.
She looked like something I should’ve reached for sooner.
Why the hell didn’t I try? Why didn’t I kiss her at that party? She’d been right there, looking like trouble wrapped in a stunning, designer dress, and instead of doing what I’d wanted, I’d let this whole thing turn into a negotiation.
I swallowed hard. “I’m not sure how to answer that.”
Charlotte blew out a sharp breath and nodded, then turned back to the horses.
Once again, I just watched. But seeing her move between them, giving each one a moment of her attention and care, was suddenly making me really wonder why the hell I hadn’t just kissed her the second I’d seen her under that mistletoe.
And more disturbingly, it made me wonder whether if I had, the story I’d spun to Rob and Mabel might’ve ended up being true. If maybe, if I hadn’t run, she really could’ve been mine by now.