Hannah
“Hey, thank you again!” Elliot, Matty’s friend who runs the clinic I just worked walks up beside me as I rub down Queen. His weathered, tan fingers unwrap a mint and he lays his palm flat out for her to take it.
“It was my pleasure. You’ve got a great thing going down here, and this land is breathtaking.
” I look out over the endless flat expanse of Elliot’s five hundred acre ranch.
Cattle graze in the distance, wandering aimlessly over the dusty landscape.
I can’t help but miss the green hills of Green Haven, my heart beating a little quicker at the thought of getting on the road and heading back to Dean.
I spent the day talking with a group of about fifty young girls who have been attending workshops all summer here learning how to ride and train horses.
They hung on every word and watched with wide eyes as I walked them through little tips I’ve learned over the years on how to really connect with your horse; listening to their signals and the way their body reacts in certain situations, being patient with the time it takes to build a lasting dependable relationship, and never letting your guard down when you're riding.
You protect each other . I told them. My mind flicked to Dean when I said this to the group.
I’d been alone for so long, taking care of myself and running from feeling anything.
Then he came along and showed me that it’s okay to depend on someone.
That letting someone take care of you doesn’t mean that I’m losing my ability to care for myself, but that I’m allowing someone to share burdens with, someone to share hopes and dreams with.
Having that person by your side to cherish a future with.
My arms circled my stomach protectively at that thought.
And I haven’t quite been able to get that dark cowboy out of my mind since.
“It hasn’t always been an easy ride to keep this place running.
” Elliot’s tender voice breaks me from my head.
“But I’ll tell you one thing.” He turns those sparkling eyes to me.
“Any good thing is worth working hard for.” I give him a smile, not sure what to say, so I nod instead.
He gives Queen's nose a gentle stroke then looks back to me. “If you don’t mind, some of the girls hung around. They are hoping they can get some pictures with you?”
“Absolutely!” I call over my shoulder, walking Queen up into the trailer.
Once I’ve got her loaded, I run a hand through my hair, tangled from the wind.
Then tug my hat down, smiling at the memory of Dean’s face when I first placed it on my head.
I keep that smile on my face the whole walk towards the big barn across from the training arena.
Giggles and muffled voices ring out from the open double doors, and I peek inside and watch a group of about ten girls in their late teens huddled together.
I didn’t realize how much I needed friends until this summer.
Being around Mallory and the other riders reminded me how important it is to have a circle who lift you up and never make you feel like nothing but the fucking best even when you’re at your worst.
Making a mental note to try harder to build those relationships, I step into the barn, the smell of hay and freshly mucked stalls surrounding me.
“Hi, girls!” I call as I walk towards them.
The group stops talking and each of them turn my way, big smiles on their faces.
In a rush, they surround me, asking questions and shoving hats and pictures into my hands for me to sign.
I do my best to answer them all and take my time learning their names before I scratch a pen across worn hats and photos of me flying around barrels.
“Ask her.”
“You ask her!” two girls whisper not so quietly to one another off to my left. I cap the pen in my hand and turn to them.
“Yeah, ask me!” I smile back at them, unsure what to expect. The girls eye each other for a moment before one rolls her eyes and asks, “So are you and Dean Wilder like official?” My eyes pop out of my head and I have to bite my lips between my teeth so my mouth stays shut.
“What? Why would you think that?” I shake my head, trying to think back over the times we’ve been together. Rule number three: no one can know.
“Haven’t you seen the picture?” Another girl leans into the conversation.
My heart drops and I suddenly feel light headed.
There is a picture? All the things he did to me make both my heart race and my blood heat at the memory of his scruff rubbing against my inner thighs, his face between my legs in the arena and in the front seat of my truck. God, did someone see us?
“Here.” With shaky hands, I grab the phone one of the girls holds out to me.
A picture of me smiles back at me. The sun casting the sky in vibrant shades of orange and red, my hair flying out around me as I rode Queen bare back in a field of boundless wildflowers.
I didn’t even notice Dean had his phone out, but I’m frozen in time.
Caught in one of my most vulnerable and natural places.
On top of Queen, in a field, my curls blowing around me.
But what really makes my breath catch is the smile on my face.
I don’t remember ever smiling as much as I have with Dean since before my parents died.
I wipe a rogue tear away just as one of the girls asks me, “So are you two like boyfriend and girlfriend?”
I hesitate, not sure how to answer. “I think that term is a little loose for what we are, isn’t it darlin’?
” My lungs cease to work at the deep rumble of his voice.
The girls look over my shoulder, but I can’t move.
It isn’t until I hear his boots start to cross the cement floor that I turn to face him.
Even in jeans and a simple black tee, his presence is imposing.
He isn’t wearing his hat, so his hair hangs down around his ears, small pieces falling over his eyes as he stalks closer to where I’m glued to the floor.
“Hi, darlin’,” he rasps softly, the toes of his boots brushing against mine.
My mouth is too dry, my hands beginning to sweat at my sides.
I thought I’d have a whole six hour car ride to rehearse what I want to say to him.
Since my brain has decided to stop working, I lift my hand in a lame wave.
Dean dips his head, a deep chuckle filling what little room stands between us.
The room comes back into focus and I look at the girls standing around us, each of them looking between the two of us.
Clearing his throat, Dean takes a step back, his hands clenched tightly at his sides like he doesn’t want to wait another minute to touch me.
Then he motions to the girls. “Here ladies, let me take some pictures for you.” I swear each one of them sighs at his gesture, filing in one by one to stand beside me and to get a picture together.
Dean stands off to the side patiently waiting while I answer each of their questions and take my time to give them genuine answers.
All the while my eyes keep sliding over to him.
After what feels like a lifetime, the girls say their goodbyes and filter outside.
Pushing off the wood beam with one shoulder, Dean slowly saunters over to me, stopping just before me. If I took a deep breath, my chest would brush up against his.
“Kiss her!” a girl shouts from the doorway before a hand darts out and covers her mouth, dragging her away. A laugh bubbles out of me and I lean into him just as his arms circle my waist.
“Wouldn’t want to disappoint the fans,” he whispers, his long fingers reaching up and skimming along the curve of my jaw.
My eyes flutter at the contact. And when I open my eyes his are clear, free from the storm clouds that shadowed them at the beginning of the summer.
The blue is so bright I get lost in them, eyes that are blazing with need.
Fuck it, I say to myself and finally give in to the pull that has always drawn us together since that very first night he picked me up out of the dirt and made me feel whole again.
Our lips touch and sparks zing from the tips of my fingers to my toes.
Dean growls deep in his chest, and I moan into his mouth.
I trail my hands up over his stomach, feeling his muscles flex under my touch, over his pecs and around his neck, intertwining my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
Tugging gently, I pull him back from me, both of us panting.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask quietly, resting my forehead against his.
“Darlin’,” he says with authority. “I always know where you are.” Smiling, I can't even muster the energy to pretend to care, nor do I really. Whatever his method is, I’m so happy he’s here.
Then his mouth is back on mine, pulling me deeper into his embrace.
It isn’t until we’re both dizzy from lack of oxygen that we pull apart again.
“Dean, there is something I need to tell you.” I’ve accepted my feelings for him, that I know for certain, but I’m suddenly nervous about telling him that I’m pregnant.
“I’m…” I open my mouth, but the words won’t come out.
Instead I reach behind me and pull the scan of our baby out of the pocket of my jeans where I’ve kept it with me every single day.
He slides his hands over my arms and tucks the trembling picture in his rough palms, holding them firmly and with so much care.