Chapter 10
TEN
KARL
I pat Daisy’s neck as the judge affixes the red ribbon to her halter. Matt stands next in line, waiting for the blue ribbon, and I can’t hold back my smirk when he looks over at me.
“Shut up,” he mouths, turning his attention to the judge waiting to shake his hand.
My stomach sinks when I don’t see Nancy in the stands. The row she was in is empty, and I keep my head on a swivel as we do our lap around the ring.
After a full circle, it’s obvious she’s not here. Maybe this cow thing is too weird for the horse girl.
“She take off?” Matt asks, coming up next to me as we head from the show ring back into the barn.
“Yeah, looks like it. It’s fine.” I shrug.
He makes a skeptical sound that I choose to ignore.
We’ve got to get ready for another class this afternoon anyway, so I’ll focus on that.
But I’d be lying to myself if I wasn’t slightly heartbroken.
I had a feeling about Nancy. It was like she was supposed to step in cow shit right in front of me, which seems ridiculous when I allow myself to actually think about it.
During that first encounter she may have been cold, but my whole body went, “Oh hey there,” like it knew there was nothing random about it.
I scoff at myself for thinking about fate or some shit.
“Congrats, Hore brothers!” Donny Smith hollers from down the aisle as we pass.
“Thanks, Donny,” Matt calls back, wary eyes glued to me.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I grumble.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re pitying me.”
“I am pitying you, though. I’ve never seen you like this. It’s—.”
“Well, stop it,” I snap. “I’m fine.” I am. It was a few hours of fun with a woman. A woman I felt a genuine connection with, and I’m sure that’ll happen again one day.
I stop dead when we turn into our aisle.
Nancy is sitting on a bale of straw, her back against the wall of one of the temporary stalls.
Her chin is resting on top of her knees, and her eyes are closed.
Something is wrong. That feeling is back, paired now with the protectiveness I experienced earlier.
And instead of stopping to evaluate, I hold the lead rope out to Matt and make a beeline to my girl.
My girl.
She doesn’t move when I’m right in front of her or when I drop to my knees and gently trail my hands down her upper arms.
“Hey,” I whisper, watching a tear slowly trickle down her cheek. When she opens her eyes, heartbreak and a touch of fear greet me.
She doesn’t say a thing, just drops her legs and wraps her arms around me.
I don’t know what to do other than hug her back.
When I rise, her legs wrap around my waist, and she buries her face in my neck.
I don’t think. I simply begin walking with her wrapped tightly around me. My entire body humming with relief.
Heads turn toward us as I make my way to the back lot where the trailer is. I expect her to unwrap herself when we get inside, but her hold only tightens when I sit on the unmade bed.
I can feel her tears sliding down my neck, soaking my collar as she cries silently against me. It’s the only tell that she’s sad. There are no noisy sobs or gasps of breath. No sniffles or moans of sadness. Just silent tears, anointing me.
I have no idea why she’s sad. No clue why she’s crying or why she chose me to witness her heartbreak. But it does something to my insides that she chose me to be here for her. It fans a little flame of hope that maybe she feels this inexplicable pull too.
Eventually, she pulls back, keeping her eyes low instead of looking at me. “What’s wrong, dearest?” I ask quietly, silently begging her to raise her eyes to me.
She swallows audibly, and the lines on her forehead deepen as she tries to find the words.
“It’s so stupid,” she whispers. “All of this is so dumb.”
“What is?”
“My life.”
“And why do you say that?”
She finally looks up, her eyes searching mine. Blue pools clouded by sadness that I desperately want to clear.
“I don’t even know you,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re a stranger, and yet I think I walked out on my family to be here.”
I swallow as her words sink in. Walked out on her family to be here. To be here with me.
“What do you mean?” I ask, needing her to elaborate.
“I left during your event,” she says with a hint of embarrassment.
I offer a soft smile, trying to convey that it’s okay. “I noticed.”
“I’m sorry,” she sniffles.
I shake my head as I run a hand up and down her back, hoping she finds it soothing. “Don’t be sorry. You’re clearly going through something.”
She slides off my lap and sits beside me, back hunched, looking utterly defeated.
“I’ve always been a cog in my mother’s dream machine, which sounds whimsical, but it’s not.
It produces stress and an unattainable idea of perfection, and it took stepping in shit yesterday for me to see it.
” She looks up at me, and all I want to do is kiss her, but I let her continue.
“Two years ago”—she looks up at the ceiling and takes a deep breath—“I had everything going for me. I was climbing up the national rankings. I had an incredible horse and sponsors calling weekly. Then in the blink of an eye, it all changed. We were on a clear round, and right before the final fence, my horse, Fred, stumbled a tiny bit.” She smiles sadly at me.
“But he has the bravest heart of any horse I’ve ever ridden and still tried to jump the fence.
I guess I should be happy he launched me twelve feet so I wasn’t crushed.
I’ve never been able to get back in the saddle.
Fred’s never let anyone put another one on him.
I was supposed to carry on her legacy of greatness, and I failed her, and I failed that horse. ”
“I’m sure that’s no—” I start to say, but she cuts me off.
“No, I did, in her eyes anyway. After my accident, I didn’t push through, didn’t overcome the fear that moved into my body, and didn’t get back on the horse, literally.
I showed too much weakness.” She takes a deep, shaky breath.
“She rules the family. My father enjoys all the little things that her success and family money afford him, and that means he was never there to shield me from her wrath. My sister thrives in that atmosphere, and I thought I did too, but I’m not the same.
Yesterday was the first time I went off script. I didn’t put on a mask and pretend.”
“How did it feel?”
A small smile appears. “Great. It felt amazing to do what I wanted to do and not what I was expected to do.”
“And what do you want to do now?”
“Sit here, with you.”
“Okay, then let's sit here.”
And that’s what we do. We sit there.
After a while, her body relaxes against me as her hand reaches for mine.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, twining our fingers together.
“For what?”
“Letting me be me.”
I take her chin and gently turn her so she’s looking at me, a pleasing warmth spreading throughout my entire body when the corner of her mouth tips up. “I happen to really like you, so I’m more than happy to let you be you.”
“I had a feeling you might.”
“Really like you?” She nods. “Was it the constant proposals that gave me away? I’m usually more subtle than this.”
She laughs, and the sound lights up every part of me like a Christmas tree.
“I’d marry you tomorrow if you said yes,” I admit, sliding my hand to the back of her head and holding her steady as I lean in.
She laughs again, a puff of breath touching my lips as they meet hers in a soft kiss. She thinks I’m joking, which I suppose is the normal way to think when a guy you’ve only known for a day proposes.
“Fine, yes.” She pulls back and cups my face, a huge smile on her own. “Marry me tomorrow, Karl Hore.”