Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Thunder was everything Noah had said she was.
The most beautiful horse Willow had ever seen.
The glossy black of onyx, her coat reflecting the sun like petrol on water.
She had one white line down her face, as if someone had come along with a paintbrush and swept it from her eyes to her nostrils.
The breeze swept her thick mane to one side as she stayed always a good few meters away—despite the offers of Polo mints and apples—assessing them and clearly not impressed with what she saw.
Willow lay in bed the following morning, the sunlight streaming in through drapes she had closed badly last night, staring at the familiar rosebud pattern of her childhood wallpaper, thinking about Thunder.
She would never admit it to Noah, but as she’d leaned against the paddock fence and looked in the eye of the beast, seen the wary defiance that looked back, she’d felt a strange kinship.
She tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t; her knee throbbed.
She couldn’t lie in bed any longer without her thoughts drifting to the season she was missing, the opening nights, the tuning of the orchestra, the hum of the audience.
Someone else dancing her role. She had to suppress the fear that rose up inside her at that thought, resist the urgent pull to get up, get dressed and fly back to rehearsals.
Instead, she got up, pulled on some leggings, vest and zip-up hoodie, and went as discreetly as she could into the kitchen without alerting her mom that she was awake.
Her dad would have been up and out hours ago.
Noah lived in his own place on the other side of the ranch and would also be out working already.
Willow grabbed an apple from the bowl on the kitchen table and, slipping on her sneakers, she went outside to see the horse.
The Cordelia Street Ballet Company medical team had said that rest was the only answer, that she had masked the pain and relied on quick fixes for too long.
Willow had tried to fight back, but no one listened.
The physiotherapist quietly insisted that maybe some time away from the city, fresh air and relaxation, might be a good idea.
Annoyingly, as Willow stood outside the ranch, she had to admit the morning sun on her skin felt deliciously like warm hands pressing down on her tightly wound shoulders.
There was still a chill in the air that hadn’t quite burned off and mist hovered over the dewy grass as she walked carefully toward the paddock.
Thunder was over at the far side. Haughty and distant.
“Hey, girl,” Willow spoke softly to Thunder, slowly extending her hand with the apple.
The horse didn’t budge. Just stared with a disdain that made Willow smile. “I know how you feel,” she said, leaning against the wooden fence, resting her chin in one hand and keeping the other arm outstretched with the apple.
After a while of just watching and waiting and Thunder making no move to come closer, Willow glanced around to see if anyone was nearby.
The yard was empty—not even Rocky, the family border collie, was about. Keeping the apple in one hand, she unlatched the paddock gate and stepped inside.
Thunder’s ears went back.
Willow rolled her lips together hesitantly.
She looked around again, knew that Noah would whistle sharply for her to get out of there if he saw her.
She took another few steps. An unpredictable searing pain shot through her knee, making her stumble slightly.
She paused, closed her eyes, let it pass.
The horse snorted, flicking her head and swishing her glorious long tail.
“It’s okay, I’m Willow,” she said. “I won’t come any closer, I just thought?—”
But before she could finish the sentence, Thunder suddenly bolted, missing Willow by inches, the air between them whisker thin, causing Willow to jolt back, the knee pain ricocheting again, immobilizing her.
She realized too late that she had lived too long in New York and failed to close the paddock gate securely. Thunder had sensed an opportunity.
“Darn it!”
Noah was going to kill her.
Across the pasture, she could see Thunder’s inky coat shimmering in the sunlight as she galloped in the direction of the mountains. That horse could move fast.
Willow stood dumbstruck for a few moments, frozen with panic and indecision.
Did she try and find Noah, or did she try and find the horse?
She was sweating from the pain in her knee.
Ideally, she’d take a couple of painkillers and strap it up before she did anything, but Thunder was getting smaller in the distance.
Limping as fast as she could to the shed, she grabbed the keys to the farm buggy and was driving over the fields in Thunder’s direction before she’d considered properly what she was doing.
The track was all dry, cracked earth and her body bounced as she hit ruts and divots, her knee screaming. She could see glimpses of Thunder’s glossy black coat ahead of her.
How far should she go until she turned back? How far would Noah go?
It was only when she veered into a strip of pine forest that she realized where she was and slowed down.
This was Hawkins land.
Willow swallowed with wary apprehension.
She shouldn’t be here. She shivered at the idea of where she was.
None of the Hawkins family—nobody at all—had lived there for years but still… No Carter in their right mind would trespass on land belonging to them.
Willow glanced over her shoulder. If she turned back home, she’d have to explain what had happened, it would be embarrassing, she’d feel bad, they’d sigh and look at her like silly little Willow had made another terrible decision.
Even so, she didn’t want to announce her arrival on Hawkins property.
Killing the buggy’s engine, she stepped off and made cautious progress through the pine trees that separated the place from her family’s ranch, her knee struggling on the uneven ground, till she came to the open pasture—an unexpected riot of bright pinks and yellows, all overgrown with wildflowers.
In the far distance, she could see the old house, the roof atrophied by the elements, and closer to her was the paddock, the rotten wood fence half collapsed.
She took a couple of steps closer so she could see better.
It was then she saw Thunder. The horse had stopped amid the wildflowers just to the left of the old paddock fence. Her coat was all sweaty, her eyes focused on something intently.
Someone, Willow realized.
It seemed for a moment that her heart, her brain, her breath, all paused in unison. For standing there, one hand gently raised toward the skittish horse, was none other than Dylan Hawkins.
Oh, no.
Worn blue Levi’s and a black T-shirt faded to gray, blond hair that needed cutting pushed back behind his ears, the hint of a beard but the same sharp profile that made Willow’s stomach concave. Squint her eyes a touch, and he could easily be wearing his football jersey, loping out onto the field.
She should not be here.
More to the point, he shouldn’t be here.
Willow hadn’t seen Dylan Hawkins for over ten years, and there he was, standing in the field, mesmerizing her untamable horse.
Dylan didn’t turn, all his attention was on Thunder as he stepped closer to the horse, then closer still.
Willow watched in amazement. She could see his mouth moving like he was talking and wondered what it was he was saying that allowed him to get within touching distance of Thunder.
Willow couldn’t look away, it was like she was hypnotized, her and Thunder both.
All the time, Dylan was murmuring something, careful with his steps but not hesitant, there was no fear in his movements, nor any sense of ownership.
Before her eyes, Thunder seemed to unwind, drop her head a touch.
Willow would have liked to see her expression.
Then next thing she knew, Dylan placed his hand flat at the base of Thunder’s neck.
Willow’s eyes widened, unable to quite process what she was seeing.
It felt like magic. Just the achievement of that simple touch made the breath catch in her throat.
A bird cawed, jerking her to attention.
She was trespassing. If Dylan’s daddy were still alive, he’d have fired his rifle close enough by now to warn her never to set foot on their land again.
The thought made her turn fast away and walk as quick as her knee would allow back to the buggy.
Starting the engine, she didn’t look over in Dylan’s direction again, just set off back through the pines, her heart sinking at the idea of having to explain it all to Noah and her dad.
Yet suddenly, that didn’t seem quite so important now she knew Dylan Hawkins was back in town.