Chapter 5
T urns out Cora Wildman has expensive taste. I dread to think how much money’s been spent on this stupid, fucking wedding.
The ranch is barely recognisable; there are white and pink bows tied to anything standing, and half of Fork River has turned out to watch my father make a fool of himself.
The folk of Fork River like to talk, and our family has always been subject to their conspiracies. Anything we do, big or small, tends to provoke interest and this wedding is no exception.
I stand beside my old man as he says his vows and try my best not to be distracted by her.
There’s no denying Maisie’s looking pretty in the floaty, pink bridesmaid dress she’s wearing.
Her long, wavy, blonde hair hangs over one shoulder, and I swear the girl has no idea how fucking beautiful she is.
I’ve heard the way the boys in the bunkhouse talk about her, and I can’t understand why it makes me want to throat-punch every single one of ‘em for it.
I also can’t figure why I feel an undeniable jealousy everytime I see her laughing and having fun with Wade.
I don’t even know this girl, and all I’ve witnessed from her so far has been rude and obnoxious behavior. She’s a brat. No doubt used to getting her way because her momma’s too busy conjuring men like my father to keep them in champagne and fancy clothes.
I figure the sooner she leaves to go to college, the better.
After the ceremony is done, everyone spreads out onto the elaborately, decorated lawn.
The town folk gather in small groups to gossip while the men, my father invited here out of obligation, network.
I do my bit, making nice, and participating in their egotistical bullshit, because you never know when you might need a favor.
Cole proves he’s every bit as stubborn as I expected by not showing, and although Pops hasn’t said anything, I can see he’s upset by it.
Luckily, Wade more than makes up for our brother's absence. He’s a local hero, and I can tell from the look on his face that he’s lapping up all the attention he’s getting from the large crowd gathered around, listening to his stories.
I’m surprised Maisie ain’t there listening and swooning over him, too. In fact, there doesn’t seem to be any sign of her at all.
I should carry on networking—Harry Denby, the livestock commissioner, is talking to the Mayor, and I should really be listening in to figure out if they have any suspicions on what happened when I took our herd back last week.
But the longer I go without seeing her, the more that niggle she puts inside me spreads.
So, downing the last of my champagne, I admit defeat and go in search of her.
I check the house first, but the only people there are the caterers, and after passing through the yard and having no luck, I decide to check the stables.
My feet pull to a halt when I find her, still wearing that pretty dress, as she strokes Darcy’s long, white nose.
She doesn’t seem to know I’m here, and I prefer it that way.
Watching Maisie Wildman from a distance has quickly become my guilty pleasure.
It’s wrong of me to let the thoughts I have in my head fester.
She’s far too young, and despite what she thinks, she’s far too innocent.
But today, I’m getting a different vibe from her.
Today, she seems sad.
Since Maisie arrived here, she's been putting on a front, and as much as I hate to find beauty in her pain, seeing her stripped back, and showing real emotion is breathtaking.
I don’t want to disturb her, so I stand in silence and admire her.
I lose track of how many minutes pass, and for the first time since I set my eyes on her, I make no attempts to block those thoughts from my mind.
I allow myself to appreciate her, I let the idea of touching her feed my imagination, and when her big, blue eyes finally look up and fix on mine, desperation sinks into the pit of my stomach like a lead weight.
“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” I gesture my head toward Darcy as I step towards her and pat the horse's neck. She’s a good horse, one of the best we got here, but I struggle to look at her these days.
“She’s gorgeous. I haven’t seen her out, though. Is she not broken?” Maisie asks, with a much softer, sweeter voice than I’m used to hearing from her. There’s no trace of that attitude she arrived here with.
“Yeah, she’s broken. She was my sister's horse.” A lump wedges in my throat.
“I didn’t know you have a sister?” I watch the confusion scrunch up her forehead and prepare myself to say the words.
“ Had ,” I swallow hard and try not to let the pain consume me.
“I’m sorry.” Maisies eyelashes flutter, and her cheeks flush pink, proving that even pity looks pretty on her.
I know how to appreciate beauty. I live and work among it everyday. It’s there every morning when I open the door, stretched out for miles in front of me.
But this is different. This is the kinda beauty that hurts. It’s desperate and it makes me feel selfish because I want to hide it from the world and keep it all to myself.
“She loved this horse, and this horse loved her.” I explain, continuing to show Darcy the affection she’s been lacking lately. No one around here ever talks about Bree anymore, and I’m the worst culprit for it. But for some reason standing here like this, I feel the urge to speak about her.
“What was her name? I haven’t seen any photographs around the house.” Maisie tilts her head curiously.
“Her name was Breanna, and I figure looking at her hurts Pops too much. There used to be photos, loads of ‘em. She was a great rider. You couldn’t walk into a room without seeing a picture of her or a rosette she’d won.
I came home from a cattle drive one day, and everything was gone.
All traces of her vanished, and I never questioned Pops on it.
Carson men ain’t great at talkin’,” I admit, focusing on brushing my fingers through Darcy’s long, white mane to avoid eye contact.
“Breanna, it’s a pretty name.” The girl smiles awkwardly back at me, and I hate that she feels sorry for me. I ain’t the person she should be feeling for.
“Who takes care of her now?” She focuses those sad eyes on the horse, and the tiny hint of a tear I see in them proves she has some empathy.
“The staff, mainly Dalton. It’s been a while since she’s been ridden, though… not since we lost her.” My voice comes out raspy, and I have to frown to keep my own tears under control.
“That’s really sad.” When Maisie’s eyes connect with mine, I feel them tug at something inside me. I’m not sure what it is, but I’ve never felt it before and, now I know it’s there, I gotta feelin’ things won’t ever go back to the way they were.
“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for ya!” Wade interrupts the stare-off we’re having. “They’re starting the speeches, and guess who’s first up?” he raises his eyebrows.
“Let me guess, the new Mrs. Carson.” Maisie sighs, quickly pulling herself back together. She pastes on a smile, and rolls her eyes at my brother. “It’s become her thing. I wonder if she’ll reuse the one from her last wedding.”
Wade laughs with her, and I can’t help smirking too. It lightens the mood, and when my brother wraps his arm around her shoulder and starts leading her out of the stable, I realize his disruption couldn’t have come at a better time.
I don’t know what fucked-up thoughts are going through my head right now, but I have to leave ‘em right here in this fucking stable. The girl’s not for me. She’s too na?ve, despite thinking she knows the world. Whatever I’m feeling for her has to stop because there will be no good in it.
I feel the ache in the reality of that when she looks back over her shoulder at me; that sad look is back in her eyes, only this time, I sense that it’s out of concern for me. I try, and recall the last time I had that, and I can’t.
I nod my head at her to let her know I’m ok, and when she gives me a half-satisfied smile back, and I feel that tug inside me again, I know I’m in some real fucking trouble.