Chapter Six #2
For a heartbeat I just watched—her hair streaming behind her, Sunny floating over the ground like he’d sprung wings. Nora was the angel who’d taught him to fly.
Then Rogue gathered beneath me. He bunched like a coiled spring, his muscles tightening under the saddle. “Alright, boy,” I murmured. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I loosened the reins and gave him his head.
Rogue exploded forward.
The ground thundered beneath us as he stretched into a full gallop, his massive stride eating the distance between us and Nora in seconds. Dirt flew behind his hooves. Wind ripped through my hair and burned in my lungs.
God, it felt good.
Sunny and Nora were still ahead, but the gap was shrinking fast. Rogue surged again, his power undeniable, and soon we were pulling even with them.
Nora glanced over, her eyes bright with adrenaline and challenge. “About time!” she shouted over the pounding of hooves.
“See you at the oak,” I shot back. Rogue surged past.
For a moment the world belonged to us—speed, wind, the thunder of muscle and bone driving us forward. The oak ahead loomed closer.
But Rogue’s power came at a cost. His breathing deepened, the rhythm of his stride beginning to shorten. Beside us, Sunny kept flying. Not as explosive, not as dramatic. Steady. Smooth. Tireless.
I smiled because I loved that for them. “You can’t let those little legs beat you, Rogue,” I murmured to my mount.
Sunny crept forward again until Nora and I were riding neck-and-neck. Her grin messed with my ability to focus on the race.
“Getting tired over there?” she teased.
“Just giving you hope.”
We were closing in on the oak. For a second, Rogue surged again, his pride refusing to give ground.
Then Sunny stretched, lowered his head, and kept pace without the sweat that was beginning to shine on Rogue.
Rogue was fast and free, but Nora didn’t need to urge her horse on, and Sunny wasn’t holding back.
The little gelding slipped past us by half a length.
By the time we reached the oak tree before the bridge, Nora and Sunny crossed first. I pulled Rogue up laughing as he snorted in protest, tossing his head like he disagreed with the outcome entirely.
Nora circled back toward me, breathless and glowing, Sunny dancing beneath her proudly, tossing his head and stomping.
“I win,” she declared triumphantly.
“I noticed,” I said, still catching my breath.
We slowed the horses to a walk, both of us smiling too hard to pretend it had been anything but fun. Sunny pranced beside Rogue like a rooster who’d beaten a bull.
I shook my head. “You realize Rogue’s going to be sulking about this for a week.”
“Sunny says that’s a personal problem.”
I swung down from Rogue, my legs still buzzing from the ride. Nora slid off Sunny a second later, landing lightly in the dust. For a moment we stood there, smiling, the horses blowing out warm breaths behind us. We walked side by side as the animals also calmed.
I glanced from Sunny to Rogue. Truth was, I wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. Maybe Sunny had simply outlasted Rogue. Or maybe Rogue—smart bastard that he was—had decided Nora mattered more than winning.
Either way, the grin on Nora’s face made my issues with my family seem like another lifetime. And standing there, looking down at her with the sun on her hair and that wild happiness in her eyes, I had the sudden, dangerous thought that this Nora Burke might be something I could get used to.
After wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, she said, “I wasn’t sure you’d be back this summer.”
“I wasn’t sure either.”
Her next smile seemed forced. “Hey, I’m a high school grad now. Whoo hoo.”
“That’s a milestone.”
Her chest rose and fell. “All grown up.”
That’s painfully obvious. “Which school are you headed off to?”
She paused. “Not sure I’m taking that path. My mother has been spending more and more time here. I might try that before I decide what I want next.”
My hand tightened on Rogue’s reins. “Is that really what you want?”
She shrugged. “I like it here and I hate the idea of Mom being alone. Now that I’m older, I’m hoping she’ll take me with her on some of her long rides.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that she deserved better, but the conversation I’d just had with my family circled back and slammed me into silence. Hadn’t I told them that I should be allowed to do whatever the hell I wanted to?
She deserved the same respect. Still, staying with her mother didn’t seem like a healthy choice. Celia Burke was a nice enough person, but it was whispered that she only stayed with Cody for the children and that was why she escaped into the mountains on horseback every opportunity she had.
People said her only friend was a woman who’d been a recluse for so long she’d become a bit of an urban legend.
Evie the Oracle. Evie the Healer. Mabel said both labels were misplaced and cruel to place on a woman who’d removed herself from town when her husband became terminally ill and never found the strength to return.
Mabel helped her by selling the tonics and lemonades Evie made from the fresh mountain springs, but that didn’t make the woman’s story any less sad.
So, no, I didn’t like the idea of Nora staying in Firebrook Valley and possibly becoming like her mother.
In the silence that stretched on, I looked Nora over again, forcing myself to see beyond her curves. My attention paused on her wrist. “Is that the bracelet I made?” I asked, the words out before I could stop them.
She looked down at the braided leather, her fingers tracing the rough weave. “Sure is. Mabel added a clasp to it, and it’s actually held together well.”
I remembered the summer I’d made the bracelet.
I’d been sixteen, trying to find a way to cheer some of the kids who’d been stuck inside by a rainy season.
I’d sat on the porch at Mabel’s and made twenty of them, tossing them out to whoever was around—Palila, Zion, Emma, Bennett.
I told them if they wore it and wished for the sun to return it would.
Nora had stepped closer, watching me with those big, hopeful eyes. I’d tossed one to her too, making sure it looked like an afterthought. I couldn’t be her friend, not with our fathers always at war, but I could give her a piece of leather and a wish.
“I didn’t think anyone still had one,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.
“Of course I kept it,” she said, stepping a little closer. “You made it for me.”
“I made one for all the kids.”
A shadow crossed her expression, and I kicked myself for trying to remind myself that she was younger than me. Off limits.
Then her expression softened. “You did. That was always you, doing little things to make people feel better. You said it would help bring the sun back, but I’ve used it as a talisman of sorts. Wherever I go, I bring . . . you . . . Firebrook Valley with me and feel safe.”
The air felt thicker now, charged. I could smell her—sun-warmed skin, a hint of lemon from Evie’s tonics. “I’m glad it brings you comfort.”
Her eyes were the same, big and trusting, but now they held a depth that pulled at me. Pulled hard. Self-loathing kicked in. I’d lost my innocence at college. Parties. Girls who knew the score. While traveling, I’d hooked up with older women as well, sampling what was out there.
It felt wrong to see Nora in that light. She was eighteen, fresh out of high school. And here I was, pulse racing like some asshole who couldn’t control himself. I shifted away from her, using the excuse of letting Rogue reach the grass.
She stepped closer to look at me longingly. “It brings me more than that.”
I moved Rogue by the riverbank, allowing him to dip his muzzle into the water.
She brought Sunny over to do the same. She was close enough I could see the freckles across her nose.
“It’s nice out here. For once we don’t have to pretend we don’t know each other.
” She smiled, soft and adoring, like I was some kind of hero.
That look—God. It wrecked me.
“Yeah.” My voice came out rough. “Nice.”
Her hand brushed mine as she steadied Sunny. But she didn’t pull away. Neither did I. Her eyes lifted, locking on mine, and the world narrowed. No feud. Just her, inches away, lips parted like she’d been waiting for this forever.
I couldn’t stop myself. I cupped her cheek, thumb tracing her jaw, and kissed her. Slow at first—testing, tentative. And the world tilted beneath us.
For one heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then she sighed into it, and the sound shattered every rational thought I had left.
Her fingers curled into my shirt and the kiss deepened without either of us deciding it should.
I pulled her closer, her body fitting against mine.
Heat exploded—her mouth sweet and eager, my hand sliding to her waist, gripping like I’d never let go.
She arched into me, innocent but willing, a soft sound escaping her that shot straight through me.
There was no yesterday. No tomorrow. There was only her tongue shyly meeting mine in an intimate dance. I couldn’t get enough of her. The taste of her. The feel of her. It would have been so easy to drop reins, shed our clothing, and lose myself in her.
She deserves better than this.
Breathing heavy, I broke off the kiss and tucked her head beneath my chin as I fought to gain control of a raging need that felt equally right and wrong. “I’m sorry.” My voice cracked.
She pulled back and blinked up at me, lips swollen, eyes still dark with desire. “Don’t be, Evan. I want this.”
I put her back from me. “But I don’t.”
Hurt filled her eyes and she blinked a few times in confusion. “I don’t understand . . .”
Stop looking at me like I’m breaking a promise I never made to you. I’m leaving. And I’m not taking anything with me . . . not my family’s money . . . not you.
“You’re eighteen.” I stepped back more, moving Rogue so we both put distance between us and her.
She frowned. “That’s the problem? You think I’m too young to know what I want?”
“I know it. Hell, I’m still figuring out who I am.”
Her head tipped to the side in both sympathy and understanding. “It’s not easy when everyone around us thinks they know what we need. Drew says I need to go to college.”
“You should listen to him.”
“Like you listen to your family?” Her lips pursed in the most adorably stubborn way.
“Touché,” I conceded. “But I’m older. And leaving helped me discover what’s important to me.”
Her mouth opened and closed like she had a question she decided to hold back. Finally, she said, “I don’t need to go anywhere to know what makes me happy.”
I tore my gaze away from her and watched water rush under the bridge for a moment. “You might be right, but there’s a chance you’re wrong. You won’t know if you stay here.” I swallowed hard. “Don’t think about anyone else. Get out and see the world. Be free. That’s my plan.”
She remained silent for a moment. “You have to do that alone?”
An image tempted me—it was of us flying off somewhere together, hiding out, tangled up in each other until nothing back here mattered anymore.
Only God knew why she looked like she’d follow me if I asked her to, but I thought about my father and how he’d always put what he wanted above what my mother needed.
Hers had done the same. And maybe that was why she didn’t see that she deserved so much better. I softened my voice. “Yes.”
She nodded, tears shining but not falling. “I’ll miss you.”
Her words gutted me. “No matter how far I wander, know that if you ever need me, I’ll always be there for you.”
She sniffed hard. “Why can’t you be an asshole?”
“Oh, I am one, don’t doubt that.” But never with you.
She turned, mounting Sunny with that effortless grace. “I hope you find whatever you’re looking for, Evan.”
“You too, Nora.” My voice was thick with emotion. “Don’t stay here. Go to college. Give yourself a chance to soar, the same way you taught Sunny to.”
She glared at me, then shot off on Sunny at the same speed that had brought us to this place. Our kiss lingered like a bruise, hot and regretful. I’d tasted what I shouldn’t have, and it would haunt me.
Rogue snorted, impatient. I mounted up, turning toward home.
Had I done the right thing? There was no way to know, but if there was any power to protect at all in that little leather band around her wrist, I needed to believe it would keep her safe.