Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
Christine
I gave up caring about my appearance around half a mile back.
What was the point?
My hair is drenched, my dress soaked, and water has slid into my boots, but Tagger Grange kissed me in the rain and told me he’s falling for me. I have not one complaint. And I practically floated into the barn, providing shelter from the storm.
We gravitate like the universe just yanked us together. His lips find mine while my hands graze over his back and grip his shoulders. He lifts me from behind, my skirt pushed up high on my thighs as I cross my ankles behind his back.
I could have never guessed that Tagger would become my haven. But now, I can’t imagine it otherwise. I’m protected by his strong arms, adored when I look into his eyes, and victorious when I coax a smile from him.
Our tongues twist together as my body craves more—more of this and so much more of him. Breathless as I am, he asks, “Where can we go?”
No beating around the bush. I approve.
But it’s at that moment I realize it’s quiet, too quiet for a busy barn during a storm. The rain pummels the tin roof, and it’s still thundering in the vicinity, but otherwise, a few chickens cluck, and I hear shuffling in one of the stalls.
I look right to see Nightfall safe inside, Bluebelly to the right of him, and her colt, Skyward, is tucked in his, but the stall to the left of Nightfall is empty. I lower my legs, but with Tagger holding me so tight, I can’t reach the ground. “Set me down,” I say, trying to sound calm, but I don’t feel it inside.
“What is it?”
“Sunrise is missing.”
He looks at the horses. “What do you mean missing?”
“She’s skittish during storms. Most animals are, but she’s been known to break out and run for cover elsewhere.” I start for the utility truck, but he catches my arm.
“You can’t go out in this. There’s still lightning in the area.”
I pull away. “I’m not leaving her out there. She got close to a cliff once. I’m not taking that chance again.”
“She could be anywhere, Pris. It’s not smart to go chasing her when you have no clue where she’s gone.”
“I guess we see things differently.” I dash for the truck, tucking into the seat, and start the engine.
He comes after me, standing beside my seat as if he’s going to block me. “The storm will pass, and I’ll help you find her. We just need to wait.”
“You can wait. Check on the other animals.”
I shift into reverse, spewing mud from under the wheel, and turn the wheel before punching it.
“Pris? Wait,” he calls. “I’ll go—” His words are swallowed in the storm.
I hear the “fuck” before I look in the side mirror to see him boiling over in rage. Even through the thick rain pounding around us, the red of his face and fisted hands at his side are as clear as day.
The last time she ran, she headed to the lower pasture just inside the woods and brush closer to the river. I skid when I leave the gravel and cut through mud that splats over my boots and the bottom of my dress.
We spend most of the year in different stages of drought, so when the storms hit, we welcome them. But I probably should have looked at the forecast before deciding to wear white today.
It’s bumpy, and the wet fabric under me slides against the vinyl seat. I hold the wheel tighter as I cover the rest of the acres. I shift into park and jump out. “Sunrise?” I call over and over as I weave between the trees. It’s darker under the canopy of aspens, oaks, loblolly pines, and cedars. I stop, my intuition warning me not to go any farther. “Sunrise?”
I look back toward the UTV, not realizing I had gone so deep into the woods. After calling for her a few more times, I jog back with my senses on high alert.
Ducking beside the truck when lightning cracks too close for comfort, I hop in and drive the perimeter, hoping to avoid drawing attention from the angry sky. But I don’t see her, and she doesn’t tend to wander far if she’s thinking clearly. But who knows with the storm rushing her veins.
The property is too vast to cover in a timely way. I’m drenched to the bone and cold from driving against the rain and winds. I’ll have to trust she makes her way back because I’ll be devastated if she doesn’t.
I cut back in front of the equipment barn and keep on the gravel road, but I catch a flash of something out of the corner of my eye. Looking right, Sunrise is running through the cabbage patch and toward the taller cornfields. She must be turned around and lost. “Sunrise?” I call at the top of my lungs, but she’s running too fast away from me.
I’ll reach the cornfield faster by cutting through the other patches than going around. The truck doesn’t go very fast anyway, not when I need it to, so I park and start on foot.
She moves too fast to keep up with, so there’s no use in calling. I save my voice and just keep running. When I reach the edges of the tall field, I stop one row inside and look to my right and then left. Evening has fallen, and it makes it harder to see any distance. The rain makes it worse, so I pause to listen instead.
Closing my eyes, I listen for any change from the rustling of leaves to the sound of her hooves hitting the mud between the rows. I can’t hear anything other than water pummeling the earth.
I push through some rows, weave down some aisles, and finally come out on the other side. The field is too big to search, and it’s almost too dark to be out here. I drop my head, exhausted as frustration in my failure clouds my head.
This is pointless. I need to get back. Tagger was right. We need to just wait it out. Or hope she returns before then.
When I open my eyes, my breath chokes in my throat as tears swarm the corners of my eyes. There, on the edge of the field, under the wide canopy of an oak tree, Sunrise stands near the trunk.
“Sunrise.” I walk toward her with my hand out, being careful not to frighten her into running again. She stays, not seeming to want to run. I stroke her from the forehead to her muzzle, then lean my head against her. “Good girl.”
I don’t have a phone, so there’s no way to contact Tagger. The leaves block a lot of the harsher raindrops, but they still trickle down. I stand beside her for a long while before eventually sitting at the base of the tree trunk. When Sunrise shifts closer, a little less rain reaches me. The bond we built over the years has only grown stronger. I searched for her because I was worried. Look at her now, protecting me.
The dress is ruined, but I’ve already given up on it surviving this harsh weather. No light reaches where we are except when lightning rips across the sky, and the clouds hide the moon and stars. I’m exhausted, so it’s tempting to close my eyes. Maybe just for a minute. It’s not like I can sleep in the middle of a storm when I’m wet and cold and covered in mud.
Wrapping my arms around my chest to keep warm, I rest my head against the rough bark and close my eyes. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it for long. I shift to get as comfortable as a tree trunk can be, and stare into the distance to the east side of the field.
A flicker of light grabs my eyes, though it goes away just as quick. It’s probably aliens coming down to abduct me and Sunrise. “It’s okay, girl, I won’t let them get you. Wait.” I look up at her. “Did you hear that? Would aliens know my name? A nickname at that?”
I’m sure it’s the winds taunting me, but I swear I heard my name . . . well, Pris, which means . . . I sit up and look ahead, finding the light through the rain again. Focused on the light, I listen. “There. Did you hear it?”
“Pris? Sunrise?”
Sunrise stomps her front legs, splashing more mud on me. I wipe my face and then attempt to stand, but the mud is so thick that I get stuck. I sit back down and wobble over a large root to clear the suction between my skirt and the ground. “Over here,” I call as loud as I can while trying to keep from freaking the horse out.
Sunrise doesn’t have a lead or reins, so if she takes off, there’s no stopping her.
I continue to struggle to stand when the heel of my boot slips. “Tagger?”
“Pris?” The light grows, spreading wide over the area as it approaches and then blinds me when it’s shined in my eyes. “Babe, are you okay?” He tucks the flashlight into his back pocket and reaches for me. “Oh fuck, you’re covered in mud.”
“I’m fine. I’m fine. But glad for the announcement.” I can’t help but laugh anymore. I’m too tired to try to be funny, so I’m forced to go with an old standby. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known.”
He takes my hand in his, and my upper arm in his other. “Let’s get you out of here.”
I’m pulled to my feet, then rest a hand on the horse to make sure she feels safe. “It’s okay, girl.”
“I brought a rope to lead her back.”
I’m somewhat amazed, but more impressed, and feeling loved that he was searching for us in the first place. “How’d you know I’d find her?”
“I knew you wouldn’t give up until you found her.” He loops the rope around her head and hands me the lead. “She trusts you more.”
I lean up and kiss him. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” He runs his fingers along my cheekbone. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
As much as I would love to be buried in his arms, we have a long walk ahead. Maybe we can pick up where we left off if we have any energy left by the time we get back.
Most of the mud on my skin rolled off under the rain, which lightened as we approached the barn. Of course it did . . .
I put Sunrise in her stall, making sure she’s set up with water and plenty of hay. Returning to Tagger, I stand there, unsure what to say. Hoping to find our way back to each other, I start over. “You’re here.”
“I couldn’t stay away from you any longer.” He gives me a wink, catching on quick.
I wrap my arms around him, hugging him tight. He has hard muscles and warm touches. “I’m glad you didn’t.” Resting my chin on his chest, I ask, “Do you want to go into the house to take a shower?”
He glances back as if debating his options. “No. As long as you don’t mind me being a mess.”
Laughing, I slip from his hold and give him a twirl. “I have no room to speak.”
“Sorry about the dress getting ruined.” As if his words cued the weather gods, the rain starts pouring down again. I’m glad we’re under a roof and protected this time.
“Me too.” I look down at the skirt of stained brown with some green grass streaks throughout. “It was my mother’s. It’s too far gone to save.” I take his hand and lead him to a wooden ladder my eldest brother made years ago.
Tagger eyes the ladder leading up to the loft area. “What’s up there?”
“I’ve been doing a renovation here and there. It’s not much, and there are no walls, but I have bottled water and a place to wait out the storm.”
The right side of his smile lifts first as if he knows I’m up to no good. It was never a plan to seduce someone in the loft of the barn, but now that the opportunity has arisen, I’m not opposed or beneath begging. At least not with Tagger. “Come on.”
I climb up, with him waiting until I’m securely at the top. Probably best since the ladder wasn’t made for durability or adults but instead for convenience and kids. When he gets to the top and steps off, he smiles. “You did all this?”
“My brothers and I used to play up here.” I walk across the wooden planks as if to prove it’s safe. “A few summers ago, I needed something to occupy my mind instead of the death of my mom.”
“So you come here to read?”
His smile is small but sincere as he comes toward the far corner where I’ve set it up. He touches the soft pink bookcase and kneels to see the titles on the shelves. “There are only two shelves, but these are some of my favorite books.” He glances up at me hovering over his shoulder. “A few of Mom’s books are in there, too.”
When he stands, he looks at the white wicker chair and then at the mattress covered in pillows. Some are in bags, and some I don’t care about as much and left out. I rush around to pull some out of the protective bags, explaining, “I don’t want them to get bugs.”
“Makes sense.” He takes one out of a bag, eyeing the shape. “This goes on the chair?”
“Yes.” I don’t know why I suddenly feel shy and embarrassed. But the feeling reaches my cheeks, heating them. I pull a sheet and blanket from the biggest bag and toss them on the bed.
He sets the pillow on the wicker and reaches for the sheet. “You do this every time you come up here?”
“I don’t come up here often enough to keep the bed made up. There’s no heat in the cold months, and I can’t bring a space heater up here. It would catch the barn on fire. In the dead of summer, I’d be sweating. No fan could save me.”
He tucks the sheet’s second corner around the mattress. “So spring, April and May, are the months you use it?” Every question is asked with such care and not one ounce of judgment.
I shrug. “Sometimes November and into December. You know how unpredictable those months can be weather-wise.”
With the sheet on, he comes to stand next to me as I release the blanket in front of me and lay it in place. As if the conversation is a distraction to his purpose, he runs his hand along my neck while staring at my mouth. “Texas can never make up its mind if it wants to be fall or winter.”
He’s so close I can feel his breath coat my temple. The heat emanating through the wet shirt warms me, but it’s the way his eyes are so focused on my mouth that I shiver under his touch. Bending down, he presses his lips to mine unhurried. And when he opens his eyes, he says, “Do you have a towel up here?”
I blink rapidly, trying to make sense of what in the world he’s talking about. He must sense it because he grins. “To clean up so we don’t dirty your pretty bed.”
“Oh,” I say, relieved, though I’m not sure why I was worried. It’s not like he’s a serial killer. At least, I doubt he is. I hope he’s not . . . I eye him once more. Feeling confident he’s not, I put that outrageous thought to bed, much like what he wants to do with me, which I’m all for. “I have a few napkins. I spill when I eat.”
That makes his smile grow. “Huh. Um , I don’t think that’s going to help in this situation.” He looks me over. “We should get you out of that dress.”
“I like that idea.” There’s been no pretense of my wanting to have sex with him. I’ve thrown myself at him, and the memory of how good he felt in the truck has gotten me off a few times on my own. We can just move forward with the understanding that it’s clearly on the table.
So why do I suddenly feel insecurity clawing its way back up my throat?
Tagger’s an experienced man. Not like I’m a virgin but I’m not sure whether the hole has closed up. It’s been that long.
He pulls off his shirt first, like the gentleman he is. Looking around, he drapes it over one part of the loft with a railing. His boots come off next and the socks. Not exactly the sexy part of this strip show, but necessity beckons. I start to settle in, loose at the knees but straight back like my mom taught me. Chest out. “I hope I’m next.”
“I’m going to take my sweet time with you.”
Why does everything he says shoot right between my legs? I know this one by heart. Tagger Grange. Those two words say everything.
He peels his wet jeans off next and tosses them onto the railing before setting his sights on me and my dress. “You look so pretty it almost hurts to think about when I’m in New York.”
“You keep saying things like that, and you’ll have to pick me up off the floor.”
“I don’t mind picking you up, Pris. I only care what put you there.” Reaching to touch my cheek, he kisses me. “I want to be with you.”
“Me, too,” I reply, running the tips of my fingers over his abs. “All you need to do is help me with this dress and my boots and?—”
“Not sexually.” He shakes his head, clenching his eyes closed and rubbing his forehead. When he reopens them, he’s more determined than ever. “No, I want you sexually, too, but I want us to date. It sounds so fucking old-fashioned, but I don’t want to just be someone you fuck or mess around with when I’m in town. I want us to be together. I want us to be a couple.”
I have to lift my jaw off the floor before I speak, but my mind hasn’t fully processed what he’s saying. Hope flourishes. “You want to be my boyfriend?”
Holding my hand, he flips it over and doodles on my palm with his finger. “Yeah, I want to be your boyfriend.” There’s an uncertainty in his tone that I can only interpret as him fearing rejection. “I didn’t text because I didn’t know how you’d take that or if I was assuming too much. You might have felt the same.”
“I didn’t want you to feel pressure from me.”
“I was missing you the entire time.”
My heart beats proudly in my chest, and five steps in front of my indecisive brain, and is ready to sign on the dotted line. “I’ve thought about you every day but tried so hard to let you go, to let you lead the life you’ve chosen elsewhere.” It would be so easy to just jump in heart first, but then rationale kicks in. “You live in another state.”
“We’ll make it work. I promise. We’ll visit each other. I can fly you up anytime you can get away. I’ll fly here regularly.”
I want to be with him. It’s what I’ve wanted my whole life, but my judgment is as clouded as the sky is outside. Am I caught up in storms and distracted by incredible abs, aroused because we’re finally standing on the verge of being fully together, and timid that beyond our bodies, we’ll be exposing our souls? I’m wrapped so tight in a myriad of emotions that the weight is almost smothering.
As I look into his eyes, it’s not about making him feel better. It’s about making sure this is the right decision for both of us. It only takes a moment of swimming in his dreamy greens to know what I should do. For me. “I want to be with you, too. Sexually,” I say, smirking. He sports his own roguish grin in reaction. “And dating. I’ll be your girlfriend.”
I’m embraced in his arms and kissed in a way that might not be legal in this state. They can take me away in handcuffs before I ever stop kissing this man. Except now to say, “Make love to me, cowboy.”