Chapter 24 Chase
CHASE
When Molly enters the barn ten minutes later, I search her face for some sign that I’ve screwed things up as much as I’m afraid I have by bringing Gumdrop to the farm.
Although Laurel is riding the horse around the ring with an ear-to-ear grin, I’d bought the animal with Luke in mind.
Ray texted me about the outfitter looking for a new home for the animal, and I drove out early this morning. Once I saw the docile gelding, I knew he was my best shot at helping the boy feel comfortable enough to climb into the saddle.
And right now I need something to focus on besides my growing attachment to my best friend’s widow. I’ve never been the kind of man to confuse sex with something more meaningful, but I’ve also never felt anything close to what I do for Molly.
I know she doesn’t need me to take care of her, but that’s not stopping me from wanting to protect her.
As much as that scene yesterday made me want to pull away, I couldn’t do it.
She took the dumpster fire of that confrontation with my dad in stride.
Finding out I was made a fool of by my best friend and the girl my stupid, youthful heart thought was going to become my wife didn’t change anything.
She absorbed every ugly truth about my past and current failures without looking at me like I was suddenly less than the man she thought she knew.
Bailing is my go-to when things get real, but having Molly bear witness to my mess is somehow freeing. It also scares the shit out of me.
So yeah, buying a horse? That’s a great way to take the attention off me.
Of course, I realized I made a huge tactical error when she walked out on that porch. Because in all my hurry to be the man I want Molly and her kids to need, I forgot to ask her permission.
Which is another thing I watched for years in my family. My dad made decisions and expected Mom to accept them without an iota of respect for her opinion or letting her have any voice in her own life.
From her childhood with her grandparents to Teddy and now Linda, Molly’s had too much of other people stealing her power.
She’s finally working on finding her voice, and I did what everyone does—took the power away from her.
I could kick myself for being such an idiot.
I criticize every other person who’s steamrolled over her choices, then turn around and do the exact same damn thing.
Laurel waves from the center of the ring. “Mommy, I’m like a real cowgirl.”
“You’re a natural, honey,” Molly calls as she comes to stand next to Luke and me at the edge of the indoor ring. She isn’t using the crutches at the moment, but still walks slowly with the orthopedic boot.
“I should have asked you first,” I tell her immediately. “He doesn’t have to stay. My friend Ray is willing to—”
“Gumdrop can stay,” she says simply.
My heart settles, and then skips a beat when she reaches out and touches her pinky finger to the edge of my palm.
Oh hell, I must be down bad when that kind of feather-light touch makes me want to rush out and buy her a whole stable full of barn animals.
Llamas, sheep, baby goats—pick your pleasure.
I’m here for anything that keeps that smile on her beautiful face.
Instead of leaning into her touch, I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans, earning a slight frown. She’d get it if she knew where my heart and mind were at, which is so far beyond how this thing between us started.
“You want a turn, bud?” I ask Luke as if my heart isn’t free-falling off a cliff with no parachute.
His brows draw together in an exact imitation of his mother, and I’d like to reach out and soothe both of them, but I don’t.
“No pressure,” I say quickly. “You just let me know.”
“I do want to,” he says on a rush of breath, then grabs Molly’s hand. “Is that okay, Mommy?”
“Of course, sweetheart. Chase says Gumdrop is a nice horse for learning to ride, and we can trust Chase.” She glances up at me from beneath her lashes.
Right hook straight to the feels.
I want to be a man this woman and her kids can trust. I want to be the exact opposite of the type of man my father is, even though I’m not sure that’s possible.
“We’ll take it at your pace,” I tell him as I wave Laurel over. “You call the shots. If you want to stop or get off at any point, you just say the word and it’s all good.”
Luke crosses his arms over his chest and studies my face like he’s trying to gauge whether I mean it, and I nod.
“It’s all good,” I repeat, keeping in mind what Molly told me about how Teddy parented his sweet and sensitive son.
I step into the ring and help Laurel dismount. She undoes the helmet strap and hands it to Luke, who has followed me out.
“You’re going to do great, Lukey.”
I see Molly brush a finger across the outside corner of each eye, obviously moved by her daughter’s words of encouragement.
Luke and Laurel are good kids because she raised them that way. Sure, they spend plenty of time at each other’s throats. My sister and I did our share of arguing growing up. But the sibling bond is no joke. And with the twin connection, it’s even stronger.
For better or worse, these kids have been through a lot together.
Different challenges from what my sister and I faced when we were younger but still rough.
Despite all his flaws, I don’t doubt that Teddy loved them.
Losing a parent is no small thing. It changes how you see the world and leaves holes in your heart that never quite heal.
I would never try to step into the role of father, but I’m grateful for anything I can give them and their mother.
Luke puts on the helmet and then stands next to me at the horse’s side.
“Why don’t you take the reins and let’s walk with him a couple of laps?” I suggest.
“Laurel didn’t have to do that,” he answers, but wraps his hand around the leather.
“Everybody has their own journey.” I don’t bother to mention that Gumdrop is docile enough to follow us without Luke even holding the reins.
“I’ve watched you over the past couple of weeks and can’t help but notice how easy it is for you to put together Lego sets.” I pitch my voice low enough that Molly and Laurel can’t hear our conversation from where they’re standing at the edge of the ring.
“Legos are easy,” he says, like duh.
“I’m not sure your sister would agree. She has to follow the instruction booklet when she starts to build something, and usually gets frustrated at some point in the process.”
“She doesn’t like Legos the way I do.”
“She’s also not a natural at them like you are. She sure can’t build her own starfleet in one afternoon.”
“I guess,” he agrees. I can tell he’s trying to sound casual, but there’s a hint of pride in his voice.
Luke needs the reminder that there are things he’s good at, even if they aren’t the things his dad thought were important.
“There’s also nothing wrong with figuring things out your own way, Luke. Or being afraid and doing the thing anyway.”
We make one lap around the ring before he stops and hands the reins back to me.
“I’m done,” he announces.
“Okay.” I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “That’s fine, buddy. If you want to try again later—”
“I’m done walking.” He keeps his gaze on Gumdrop. “I’m ready to ride.”
“Alright then. Let’s do this.” I glance over my shoulder and give Molly a small nod. She offers a thumbs-up in return, as if she really does trust me.
I have to tell you, I’ve witnessed a lot of Hallmark movie moments with horses over the years, and experienced a few of them myself.
Animals don’t care about your reputation or your bank account or what happened yesterday.
When a horse decides you’re worth their trust, and you find the courage to trust them back, it’s pure magic.
But the look on Luke’s face as he settles into the saddle and rides Gumdrop around the ring hits me square in the chest.
I tell myself it’s because this is my childhood best friend’s son, and I’m helping him overcome his fear. But a deep-down, secret part of me knows this is more than paying back my debt to Teddy. This is about my feelings for Luke and my feelings for Molly.
Laurel has returned to the house, but Molly remains at the edge of the arena. She’s looking at me like I invented the internet, and damn if that isn’t its own kind of adrenaline rush. One that’s quickly becoming my favorite addiction.
“Keep your heels down, and your hands loose,” I call out as Luke makes another lap. “The horse can feel everything. Think of it like having a conversation instead of giving orders.”
“Can I take him out on a trail ride?” Luke asks when he climbs off the horse’s back twenty minutes later.
“Eventually, and with your mother’s permission,” I tell him.
“Mommy, it’s okay with you, right?”
“Let’s do a few more lessons in the ring first.” She opens her arms wide as Luke runs toward her. “Then you can explore the trails. There’s a whole network that borders the farm. Your dad loved to talk about his epic rides through the mountains.”
She meets my gaze. “I assume you were with him?”
“Always,” I answer with a nod.
“We could go on a trail ride together?” Luke’s expression is wary, like he’s still not sure of what my response will be. I hate that for him and for Molly, whose eyes close for a moment as if her son’s uncertainty causes her physical pain.
“Or maybe you could bring more horses here for Laurel and Mommy to ride.” Luke tugs on Molly’s hand. “We could have a flower horse farm.”
“Now you’re pushing it, buddy,” she tells him with a laugh and another hug. Once again, I appreciate the kind of mom Molly is with her kids—fully present and willing to let them say whatever’s on their mind because they know they’re safe in her unconditional love.
Normal is an underrated way of being in life. People like me or Teddy, with our flash and bigger-than-life adventures, get all the attention. But it’s people like Molly who make the world a better, more beautiful place. In her case, one bright bloom at a time.
“I’m going to tell Laurel that I can ride just as good as her,” Luke says, squaring his shoulders.
“Not everything between you two has to be a competition,” Molly reminds him. “You can both be good riders.”
“We are,” he clarifies, then grins. “Only I’m better.”
He runs out of the barn, and I open the gate to the arena to lead Gumdrop back to his stall.
I tip my hat toward Molly. “You have a standing offer for riding lessons.”
“I think you’ve given me plenty of lessons,” she says, deadpan.
I throw back my head and laugh. “You give as good as you get in that area, sweetheart.” After glancing past her to ensure the coast is clear, I lean in and kiss her.
She sighs and sways closer to me, and immediately my body shifts into high gear.
“Last night was amazing,” I say against her mouth.
She pulls back and searches my gaze. “I was worried when I woke up and you were gone.”
Gumdrop nudges my back, but I keep my focus on the woman in front of me. “Worried about what?”
“Just…you were gone.”
“But I came back.” I smile. “With a horse. I got the coffee ready and watered everything in the greenhouse so you wouldn’t have to.”
Her mouth lifts at one corner. “But you didn’t leave me a note.”
I shake my head. “I figured you knew I’d be back.”
“Sure, because your horse and your trailer are here, and you owe—”
“No, Molly. I’d be back because of you. Sure, I left to get the horse, but also because I thought you could use some sleep after I kept you up half the night.” The real truth is that I forced myself to leave. To prove that I could when everything inside me wanted to stay.
“I didn’t mind,” she says, and I kiss her again.
“You’re the reason I came back. Not a debt. You.”
She draws in a slow breath. “Next time, leave a note.”
“Next time I’m going to wake you up kissing my way down your body so there’s no question in your mind of where I want to be.”
“That would be okay,” she says, like we’re discussing the weather.
I lead Gumdrop into his stall, give him a scoop of oats, plus one for Fancy because I can’t ignore my girl.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell Molly as I reach out and link our fingers together. “And I’ve got to tell you, it fucking kills me not to be able to touch you whenever I want. I was never good at keeping secrets.”
I feel the change in her immediately, the tightness that grips her.
“I’m not ready for my kids to know.”
I press a finger to her lips. “I understand.”
And I do, even though I hate it, because it’s a reminder she isn’t mine. This is just some la-la-land fantasy we’re playing at, but it’s bound to end, and I’m afraid it’s going to end with my heart in a thousand torn and tattered pieces in the dirt.