18. Ariella
I’m as excited to go riding as Alex is. I’ve never been a person who enjoys being confined to a small area, always having had free roam of a place. I love the fresh air, earthy smells, and the sense of freedom. It took me time to get used to the idea of closed curtains and remaining indoors, but Patrick made a valid point. It wouldn’t matter much if we weren’t around to enjoy it.
Patrick and his father each led out a beautiful Appaloosa—one gray and one brown; both with white spotted rumps. I had seen several types of horses grazing in the pastures, including American Quarter horses and a few Thoroughbreds. I had been expecting to ride either of those breeds due to their speed. A fast horse is essential to getting away quickly.
“They’re gorgeous. What are their names?” I ask as Alex holds out his hand for the horse to sniff. Don instructs his grandson to hold his hand flat, placing a slice of apple in it so that Alex can give the horse a treat. The horse’s soft lips tickle, and Alex can’t help but laugh.
“This fine specimen is John Wick,” Patrick informs me as he solidly pats the brown horse’s neck.
“He’s fast, doesn’t flinch in the face of danger, and is relentless in his pursuit of solace. He’ll stop at nothing until he’s back home and most comfortable. The pretty little lady that Alex is spoiling with apples is Belle. Belle is the beauty, and John Wick is the beast. They’ve been raised together since they were foals.”
“I thought you would have us ride the faster horses in case we encounter trouble,” I admit.
“Which ones were you thinking?”
I point to the Quarter horses. “Them. They’re the fastest ones, aren’t they?”
He bobs his head. “They sure are, but only for short distances. They’re great sprinters but not great for a longer run. Our Thoroughbreds have better endurance.”
“Okay. Then why did you choose the Appaloosas?”
Patrick rubs his hand up and down John Wick’s shoulders, getting a small neigh of appreciation. “Our Thoroughbreds, Rhett and Scarlett, are temperamental and have a fiery spirit. They are more likely to throw you from their back and leave you behind rather than behave. John Wick and Belle have both endurance and speed, as well as sweet dispositions.”
“There are only two horses. I assume Alex is riding with either you or me.” Alex is more than capable of riding a horse and has been doing it for years, but none of the horses he’s ridden have been near this big.
“I want to ride with Daddy!” Alex shouts, having heard us from more than a dozen yards away.
“There’s nothing wrong with his hearing, that’s for sure,” I say. “It looks like he’s riding with you. Are you good with that?” I hug John Wick, feeling his soft mane between my fingers.
“More than good with it. Are you ready to ride?” He gestures toward Belle, who will be my legs for the day. Don gives me a small piece of carrot to entice her with. She gobbles it up greedily, and we become instant friends.
When I place my foot in the stirrup, my knee bending to the left, I get my body flush with the side of the horse. Instead of using the horn of the saddle to pull myself up, I grip the base of Belle’s mane and bounce up for momentum. After two quick hops, I’m securely on her back.
Pat and Don both clap their hands while Alex looks confused by the praise. He’s too short and still has to use a mounting block, but he’s been taught from an early age that using the saddle to pull himself up is a big no-no. It can hurt the horse.
“Impressive. Although I had every intention of helping you up so I could use it as an excuse to touch you,” Patrick winks. He lifts Alex onto the buddy seat—a saddle attachment that allows two riders to safely ride the horse in comfort—before mounting the horse himself.
Don and Savannah come tearing around the barn in his brand-new camouflaged Polaris RZR XP, a side-by-side multi-terrain vehicle. Don had said that by the time he finished getting all the gadgets and gizmos put on it, it cost him more than a new car.
“Now that’s a nice ride! How fast can it go?” I ask.
“If I hadn’t installed bulletproof windows, it would have been able to reach a top speed of 85 miles per hour on flat surfaces. But with the extra weight, it can only reach about 70. There’s not much of a difference between hilly and rocky terrain, only getting to 45.” They take off, and so do we.
I squeeze Belle with my legs, which gets her moving and heading in Pat and Alex’s direction. When I’ve caught up, he does the same, and we continue to walk the horses through the pasture. It’s a nice, leisurely pace that gets us to the orchard in half an hour.
When I hop down, I look for a good tree to tie Belle to. Pat’s deep voice startles me. “You don’t need to worry about tying her up. Belle and John Wick both know how to stay put and enjoy grazing. They even have special grazing bits that will allow them to do it. All we need to do is secure the reins to prevent them from getting tangled up.”
We work together, and soon, the horses are enjoying the few sprigs of grass that have started to poke through the thinning layer of snow. Alex joins his grandpa for a ride in the RZR. If it weren’t for the bulletproof glass, I’d be panicked about letting him out of my sight.
Patrick mumbles something, but I can’t hear him.
“What did you say?”
He points to his ear, and it takes me a few seconds to register he’s speaking to someone through his communication device. He mouths a few more words and then focuses his attention on me.
“That was Jerry giving us a status update. He said there is a brown bear at the northernmost part of the property—about half a mile away from here—and a wolf pack to the east of us.”
I shiver. “I don’t know which to be more afraid of. The bear or the wolves?”
Patrick wraps me in his arms and rests his chin atop my head. “You don’t need to worry about either. The bear isn’t likely to head in our direction, especially with the loud sound of the RZR as it’s being driven around. But if he decides to be brave, we can always group together and make ourselves appear larger to scare him away. If that doesn’t work, don’t forget that three of us have weapons strapped to our bodies.
“As for wolves, it is a misconception that wolves will hunt humans. In fact, they will try to avoid us at all costs. Most of the recorded attacks were because the wolves were sick with brain tumors or had rabies,” he explains.
“That’s good to know. At least your dad and Savannah can get Alex to safety if something does happen. But here I am, wasting time worrying about the animals when our biggest threat is the royal guard in the area.”
“Woohoo!” Alex shouts in delight while he and his grandfather use the orchard as an obstacle course. Savannah is patrolling the area, carrying Don’s shotgun.
“Your dad is having so much fun driving around in that thing. Boys and their toys, right? Your dad has his vehicles, and you have your tech. I bet you were upset that Jerry had all the fun setting up the surveillance for this much property. I don’t know how he managed to do it all in such a short time.”
Patrick holds my hand as we walk around, enjoying the crisp air. “It’s not as difficult as you might imagine. Only about a tenth of the property has thermal cameras, and those are all within a one-mile radius of the house. There are hundreds of additional wireless and weatherproof cameras set up further away. When we established this place as a safe house, we spent weeks getting this place set up so that we didn’t have to reinvent the wheel every time we used it. The 27 cameras Jerry installed on the ranch buildings are the only portable ones that go with us from job to job.”
“That makes sense. What about…”
“Ari, do you really want to use this time to talk about security cameras and wild animals? Or do you want to talk about us?”
I want to discuss us and our relationship, but I’m scared I won’t like the outcome. It’s no secret that Pat and I still love each other, but our decisions no longer affect just us. “Can’t everyone hear our conversation?” I point to his earpiece so he understands why I asked the question.
“No, not unless I establish an open channel. For now, all communication is one-way—from Jerry to us. If you’re not ready to talk, then I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as you need me to, Ari,” he says sincerely.
Fidgeting my fingers, I tell him the truth. “I don’t know where to begin. It’s not as easy as just saying that I want to stay married to you and make this work.”
He takes my hand in his, “You’re right about that. But it is a good place to start. Just to clarify, do you want to stay married to me and make this work?” he asks, one side of his lip quirked up in amusement.
He kisses the tip of each finger—his eyes never leaving mine as he does—patiently waiting for my answer.
“Yes, Patrick. I absolutely want to stay married to you. I want to go on our honeymoon. I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know you and maybe have a little Alexandra chasing after her older brother.”
I think I’ve overstepped and said too much when Patrick’s face pales. But then he launches himself at me, and I laugh lightly, thinking we’re going to have a repeat of this morning. Except this time, he doesn’t cage me in with his arms and stare at me adoringly. No. This time, his body covers mine to the point I can barely breathe, and I hear faint traces of static coming from his earpiece.
The last thing I hear is him telling me, “Stay down!” followed by a loud boom!