Chapter 15 #2
I had forgotten I asked him that question. The kittens distracted me. He’s such a kind soul. A good man. One that isn’t afraid to show his sensitivities.
“Maybe part of why I started rescuing so much was because I can feel their pain,” his tone holds a solemnness to it.
“When I was human, I felt emotions deeper than most. I was always the more sensitive guy, but then I was turned and those emotions heightened. At first, feeling all the emotions was debilitating. I’ve learned over the years to manage them, but some emotions are so strong, they can literally knock me off my feet. ”
“What’s the emotion that negatively affects you most?”
“Fear,” he answers without hesitation. “There’s a taste to it, too.
” He stares off into the distance, a memory stirring up in his mind.
“A bitterness. That’s the only way I know how to explain it.
And it feels like two hundred tons sitting on my chest.” His hand hovers above his heart.
“It’s like walking through quicksand, hoping you don’t get swallowed alive. ”
“That’s terrible, Oakley. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not. I’ve saved a lot of people and many animals when I felt their fear.”
“Still, it isn’t easy carrying your own emotions, let alone someone else’s. Emotions are heavy.” I stand and walk over to him, leaving the kittens behind so I can take his hand in mine. “You don’t have to carry them alone anymore. Maybe I can take some of the weight.”
His arm slithers around my waist. “You do. Ever since I met you, my world isn’t as heavy as it used to be.” Oklahoma’s nostrils flare. “You like that, don’t you?”
I slap his chest. “Stop sniffing me. It’s cheating,” I tsk at him.
“Stop smelling so damn good then,” he winks, almost causing my knees to buckle from the gesture. “Are you ready for your tour?” He holds out his hand for me to take. “I’m going to show you some of my favorite spots.”
That’s when it hits me. He wants me to get on a horse with him.
I’ve never ridden a horse.
He drops my hand and grabs my shoulders. “Hey, you’re scared. It’s okay. Talk to me.”
“I’ve never ridden a horse, and Van Gogh is huge.”
“Sugar, one thing I’d never do is put you in danger.
Ever. If I didn’t trust Van Gogh, we wouldn’t be going on a ride.
He’s gentle, easy-going, and listens very well.
He knows this ranch and where we will be going.
It will be like driving a car on auto-pilot.
And he isn’t easily spooked, either. You won’t have to worry about that.
I wouldn’t put you in a dangerous situation.
Ever. You’re telling me my badass tornado-chasing mate is afraid of Van Gogh? ”
Well, when he puts it like that, it does seem a little ridiculous. Eyeing Van Gogh, he chews on the bit in his mouth and flicks his tail, then bends down so he can reach the grass. He seems harmless.
“Here.” Oklahoma takes my hand and guides it to Van Gogh’s face. “Let him smell you. He knows you’re important to me.”
“How?” I screech when he blows hot air on my knuckles from his nostrils.
Oakley chuckles, and it’s a sound I want to listen to for the rest of my life. “He smells me on you.”
Right at that moment, Van Gogh stretches his neck and bumps my stomach with his nose. His ears perk up, and a loud neigh leaves him, echoing across the Oklahoma plains.
“He can sense you’re pregnant too. You’ll be safe,” he explains, easing my worry. “There you go.” He must feel when I relax.
Those damn emotions.
“Ready to get up?”
“What… What do I do?” My eyes widen, and Van Gogh suddenly seems so much taller than he was a second ago.
“My girl will never do a damn thing.”
I squeal, not expecting him to pick me up so fast, and set me on the saddle. I grip Van Gogh’s neck when I look down, which was a mistake because wow, I’m high up. Too high up. I don’t know if I can do this.
Oklahoma is behind me; his presence calms me. The strength of his wide chest presses against my back, his steadfast nature sinking into me.
“I got you, Nariko. You’re doing such a good job. All I need you to do is keep your legs tight against Van Gogh.”
I swallow, hoping it coats my dry throat. My hands shake from how nervous I am, and we jostle from left to right as Van Gogh starts walking.
“Woah!” I hold onto the horn of the saddle, getting a good grip so I don’t fall, but Van Gogh stops. I glance left and right, then turn my head towards Oklahoma. “What happened? Why isn’t he moving?”
“You said ‘woah’ so he stopped. You have no reason to worry, Sugar.” He kisses my shoulder, his lips soft, the scruff of his trimmed beard tickling my warm skin.
I do as he says and take a deep breath in, then out. Oklahoma isn’t going to let anything happen to me. I lean back, needing to be near him to feel safe.
An ear-piercing whistle rings in my ear from him, and Van Gogh starts walking towards the pasture gate. Was the whistle some kind of language? Because Van Gogh listens immediately. My hand slaps Oklahoma’s thigh, and I curl my fingers into the firm muscle.
My vampire’s hands grip the reins. I focus on every digit, how thick and calloused they are. The veins in his forearms protrude when he tightens his hold, and a wave of arousal warms my cheeks.
I try to focus on something else. Anything else. The picnic basket hangs over the left of Van Gogh’s shoulder, a rope tied to the saddle horn keeping it from falling.
Nothing distracts me enough, especially when he buries his nose in my hair and inhales.
“I can’t get over how good you smell. You’re my favorite scent.” He continues to make me swoon.
I’m in love, pregnant, and mated. I can’t swoon any harder.
“I love that I get to spend an eternity seeing your hair blow in the wind and carry your fragrance to my lungs. I don’t think you know how obsessed I am with everything about you.
I didn’t know this is the life I wanted because two hundred years seemed like a long time to tend to a damaged heart like mine.
Now, I can’t imagine anything else but you.
My life before you was a constant storm, the kind that brings a ton of rain and it never stopped—until you—you chased those stubborn clouds away. ”
I just fell more in love with him.
“Oklahoma—”
“—You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t say it for a reply. I said it because it was true. I was waiting to die, Sugar. The years were long and slow. Especially without my brother. I wasn’t looking forward to spending so many years alone.”
“And now you’ll never have to be alone again.”
Oklahoma presses his hand against a black box attached to a wooden post when we come up to the gate. The scanner flashes green. The gate unlocks and swings open, allowing us entry into the pasture.
He moves to hold the reins in one hand, then wraps an arm around my waist, his hand settling on my stomach.
“I really love the sound of that,” his gravel voice sounds in my ear, and my entire body shivers, the baritone slipping down my spine.
Thunder rolls from up above, and I tilt my head back, settling on his shoulder while the sky calls to me.
The weather has been more unpredictable over the last few days.
Ruka might not think so, but I have been paying attention.
Weather is my life. I tend to notice when supercells come out of nowhere.
And lately, too many of them have been popping up,
Storm clouds have been coming and going all afternoon, the sun barely having moments to peek through. I think sunlight has lost the battle for the day as shade covers the pastures.
“Wow,” I awe.
Van Gogh follows the worn trail, and the fields to the left and right of us have long grass blowing in the breeze. I watch the motion, the warm air circulating, but not enough to cause a tornado.
To the left are woods, thick with dark depths that hold the unknown. The tall trees stretch towards the sky, the branches swaying with every gust.
Texas longhorn cattle graze to the right of us, mooing as we pass by.
“Harmless,” Oklahoma says, to ease any worry I may have. “I rescued them from a slaughterhouse, too. They won’t charge at us.”
I watch in fascination, the big bodies thick with muscle mosey a few feet to bend down and chomp on grass. Birds fly down and land on their backs, plucking at their skin for any flies.
Not wanting to miss anything from the tour, I turn my head left, and we come up on a pond with ducks. Their musical quacks make me smile. I point to them, and Oklahoma grins, whistling again, and Van Gogh picks up the pace.
I’m not sure how long we’re riding for. We pass sheep, horses, even alpacas, and none of them bother us.
It isn’t until we get to a wide-open space as far as the eye can see that I’m astounded by its beauty. It’s a view out of a movie. Time stands still. The wind breezes, drying the sheen of sweat on my arms.
“Mammatus clouds are moving in. We need to be careful. Did the radar say anything about bad weather?” I ask him.
“What are those?”
“Oh, come on,” I scoff in disbelief. “You know what those are. Your brother was a chaser.”
“Tell me anyway,” he says. “I want to hear and learn everything from you.”
He clicks his tongue, turns the reins to the left, and Van Gogh clobbers the long wheat. There’s an old cabin a few yards away. It’s small and rundown. It’s seen better days. Even from here, I can see the sagging porch and broken beams.
“Come on, Sugar. Tell me everything.”
He tugs us to a stop and hops off Van Gogh. He doesn’t tie him like I expect him to. He slips the harness off, allowing Van Gogh to roam if he wants.
Basket and blanket secure on the porch, he holds out his arms for me. “Come on. I got you.” He widens his stance, and his tongue pokes out from the corner of his mouth. “I’ll catch you.”
Right. I need to get down.
“I’m good up here.”
“Nariko.” He gestures his fingers towards him. “Come on. I will not let you fall. Or you can swing your leg over and slide off the saddle. You’ll land just fine, but if you don’t want to, I’ll catch you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”