Chapter 9
NINE
INDY
Ican’t believe River threw me under the bus last night. Now I’m stuck heading to Summer’s cabin to show her around the ranch, as if she doesn’t fry all of my nerve endings. Leaving the buggy idling, I walk up the steps and knock on the door.
There’s no sound around, other than nature waking up, and I huff. I have a master key, but I’m not about to invade someone’s personal space for no real reason other than telling her to be ready—which she isn’t.
Just another thing to add to her frustrating-ness.
Knocking harder, I call her name and wait. When nothing happens, I stomp off the porch and climb into the buggy. Pulling my cell from the cup holder near the gear shift, I quickly fire off a text to Jare, and let him know that she was a no show and not to saddle a horse for her.
Frustration flares in my gut, and I slam the buggy into gear.
“That seems aggressive.”
The voice makes me jump clear outta my seat, the seatbelt catches across my chest and my head snaps in her direction.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what the hell?! I knocked and you didn’t answer, where were you?”
She’s standing there in cargo pants, and a tank top that’s obviously been cut. Her shirt’s a deep olive that makes her red hair stand out, and the smirk on her face tells me she thinks I’m amusing.
“I was around back,” she says, as if that’s totally normal. But there’s nothing behind her cabin other than an open field that the horses run in.
“Why would you–you know what? Nevermind, just get in,” I mumble, looking ahead. At least today she’s supposed to be following me around, and I’m prepared for it.
Showing her around the camp first, I point out all the places she’ll need to know, and where the campers will be staying.
The trails she’ll need to know can only be accessed on horseback, so we head to the barn after I’ve finished showing her everywhere we can get with the buggy.
I use my most take-no-shit voice, and offer nothing except direct information necessary to her living here for the next eight weeks.
“You don’t like me, do you?” She says once I’ve parked in front of the stables.
Her question throws me off, and I make the mistake of looking at her, “I don’t know you.”
“You could get to know me,” she offers with a smirk.
Before I can reply, Jare walks out of the barn with our horses for the day.
Using his presence as an excuse, I get out and walk over to where he offers me the reins to Burst, the calmest cream quarter horse we own.
Giving Summer the reins to Beam, Burst’s russet female companion, Jare nods and walks back into the barn.
I’ve already swung my body up and onto the horse when Summer clears her throat.
“What?” I ask, looking down at my seat to make sure I didn’t split my pants or anything equally as embarrassing.
“You know we have all day for this, right?” She walks the horse closer to mine and mounts, so she’s rubbing her leg against mine. “What’s the rush?”
Nudging Burst away, I shake off the little shock that ran through me at her touch, just like last night. “You may have all day, but I don’t.”
“Well, consider me your shadow for the day then,” she smirks, holding eye contact for a second too long.
I ignore the comment I’m sure was meant to rattle me.
I don’t know if I can take another day with her in my orbit.
It was all I could do yesterday not to stare, and the only reason I’ve been so frosty today is because I gave myself a pep talk in the mirror to not be a bumbling fool.
Using my heel, I press Burst's side, letting him know I’m ready to move. He starts slow, and Beam follows. They’re a good working pair, two of the most even-keeled horses we’ve got on the ranch. Which is why I asked Jare for them.
These are the horses we use most for the campers. They’re gentle enough to learn on, and they’ve been around so many kids they don’t get spooked easily. Making our way to the trails we let the campers use, Burst maneuvers expertly.
“This is the only trail our campers are allowed to use, and only when a counselor is with them,” I start knowing she probably hasn’t gotten the spiel yet.
“The horses are used mostly for adult excursions, other than this pair, Burst and Beam. You’ll get an assigned horse while you’re here, once you go through the safety training with Jare or Mr. Harris. ”
Twisting my body so I can see her, she’s looking down at the ground, as if she’s worried she might fall.
“Don’t worry, she won’t let ya fall.” I chuckle.
She snaps her head up, pupils blown wide, but she doesn’t say anything.
Odd reaction…
We ride like that for a while, neither of us saying anything. The foliage is thick, with bright green leaves tangled above us and sticks crunching under the horses hooves.
The end of the trail is coming up, it’s a loop that brings you right back to the barn. Burst and Beam know it by heart, and don’t need any prompting.
“We’re about to be back at the barn,” I say over my shoulder. “We’ll pick up the buggy, and then head back to your cabin so you can spend some time with the other counselors and get better acquainted.”
Her face is pale when we return, and her movements are stiff, almost mechanical. She still hasn’t said anything, and I’m starting to wonder if maybe she’s afraid of horses or something.
“Summer are–”
“Nice day for a trail ride,” Mr. Harris says, unintentionally cutting off my question as he takes the horses and leads them to a post with water waiting on them.
“Beautiful weather,” I agree, my eyes still focused on my riding companion.
“You alright there, Summer?” He asks, looking back at me. I meet his eyes and shrug, lost for whatever’s got her acting so weird.
She gives him a nod, not lifting her gaze from the dirt, and walks over to the buggy.
“Might wanna keep an eye on that one, make sure she’s alright,” he whispers, staring after her.
I really just want to drop her off at her cabin and get on with my chores. I’ve got a lot to do with the bees today, or else I’ll be working overtime when the campers get here. Plus, I told Lucy I’d have dinner with her tonight.
“I will,” I assure him with a sigh, knowing it’s the truth. I can’t risk something bad happening when we’ve finally got everything on the up and up.
Climbing into the buggy, I glance her way. She’s got her head back, eyes closed, breathing in a steady rhythm, as if she’s doing it intentionally.
“Looks like you’re stayin’ with me today,” I say, turning over the engine and heading toward the honey hut.
Mr. Harris wasn’t wrong, today’s turned out beautiful, if a little on the warm side, but the humidity’s come down a lot. The sky’s so bright there’s not a cloud in sight. Parking the buggy by the front door of Mama and Papa’s house, I climb out and stop when Summer doesn’t follow.
“Uhm,” I clear my throat, “you comin’ or what?”
She opens her eyes, as if she’s been asleep, and scrunches her brows. “This isn’t my cabin.”
Maybe she’s missing a few brain cells, because I distinctly remember telling her she was coming with me. “Correct.”
“Why are we here?” She asks, stepping one of her long legs out of the buggy.
“I told you, I have stuff to do.” Turning around, I keep walking and only hope she follows as I shout over my shoulder, “you’re gonna help, so move your butt.”
Once at the hut, I pull on my suit, and tie the arms around my waist until I’m ready to go out and collect the combs.
Summer appears in the doorway not long after and looks around.
I’m used to people gawking, and judging all the things packed into the small space, but her eyes soften, and absorb her surroundings.
I don’t know how I can tell, especially since she’s given me strange vibes since she got here, but she seems… curious.
“So, what all do you do in here?” She asks, eyes still bouncing around from one thing to the next.
“Mostly process and store honey until market days,” I shrug, pulling all of the tools I’ll need for today’s harvest from the shelves, and placing them in my belt.
She runs a finger over the jars by the door and picks one up, inspecting the label. “Homegrown in Tennessee.” She reads aloud.
Getting my smoker ready, I ignore the way seeing her in my space makes me feel, and head out. “Don’t touch anything that’s not labeled, and please leave my work bench the way it is.”
I don’t wait for a response, instead continuing to the hives and working as if she’s not watching me, though, I can feel her eyes on my back from time to time. I don’t know why, but even though our first impression was less than ideal, there’s something about her that’s pulling me in.
Like an itch I can’t scratch.
The smart, logical part of me knows she’s only here for the summer, and this pull–or whatever it is–between us won’t have a happy ending. I’m not willing to get caught up in feelings only to end up with a lonely heart. I want something more, something concrete.
Something tells me Summer is more like a whisper in the wind.