CHAPTER 20
I finish loading up everything into the pack and lift it, hoisting it onto my shoulder to carry it out to where Chase readies the horses for the drive. He secures his own pack to his saddle and then turns to Apollo, wincing when the Roan pins his ears back in a fuck off gesture.
I have everything Elena will need in the pack on my back, but the woman herself is nowhere to be seen. I saw her at four a.m. this morning when I woke her up, but she’s been silent since.
While I don’t want to leave her here alone, I will if she’s late. The schedule is tight as it is, that even a few minutes will push us over the limit.
The guys like her, but even they’ll be pissed if she makes us late.
I had Apollo ready for her half an hour ago, and he’s getting just as restless.
Finally, she appears from the house, wearing a pair of denim jeans, her boots, a tight white tee and her hat, her hair left down and pulled across her shoulder. She’s a fucking cowboy’s dream, with a body like that, a face to start a war and a smart mouth that both angers you and gets you hard.
“Cowboy,” She says by way of greeting, her hand reaching for Apollo. He immediately settles with her touch, turning his face toward her.
“Are you ready?” I ask, heading to my own horse to secure the pack.
“I guess so.” She shrugs.
“And your pain?” I press.
She quirks a brow. “What would be the right answer for you?”
My head jerks back at the answer. “The truth.”
“It’s sore but manageable.”
I stare at her, the truth hanging between us, “If it gets too much, you let me know.”
“Yes, sir.” She winks and turns away to stare up at her horse. He really is too big for her, even with the stirrups to lend her a hand up.
Before I can step in, Chase is offering her a hand up, his hands on her waist, hers on his shoulder as he guides her into the stirrup where she can then throw a leg over to secure herself in the saddle.
It isn’t what I did, though. I got her in the seat without the stirrups.
It doesn’t help the jealousy burning through me, though. I like Chase, but fuck, I want to bury him in the woods.
I’m sorry.
The two words had felt weighted, like it was more than an apology someone gives when they find out someone you care about is dead, it was an apology for every wrong, even when they were not committed by her own hand.
She goes against everything I know.
I am steel.
But she is sin.
She is a temptation that I am finding harder and harder to resist.
She makes herself comfortable in her saddle and once the pack is secure, I climb onto the back of Honey, handing her over a fresh canteen of water to tuck into the pocket on her saddle.
Her smile is soft in answer, but then a loud bark behind us draws her attention as Judge comes sprinting toward us, having escaped Sal’s hold.
His tail wags, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.
Elena turns pleading eyes to me.
“He isn’t a working dog,” I explain.
“But he wants to come.” Her eyes take on this big, pleading look, and she dips her chin, looking at me somewhat from beneath her lashes. “Let him come.”
I open my mouth to refuse, but she cranks that look up tenfold, the plea so innocent and genuine that the refusal dies on my tongue.
“Fine,” I grumble.
She lets out an excited yelp. “You hear that?” She squeals down to the dog, “You get to come.”
Judge releases a bark, hopping to the side as he reacts to her excitement.
How am I meant to be irritated by that?
Leaving them to it, I let out a whistle letting the guys know we’re ready to set off and in a matter of minutes we fall into a routine that feels as easy as breathing, and then Elena falls into step beside me, following my command with Judge following her.
She turns her face to me, revealing a smile I’ve never seen from her before. It isn’t flirty; it isn’t calculated. It’s elated.
The sun beats down on the back of my neck, sweat beads and rolls down the collar of my shirt.
We’ve covered about eight miles of uphill, the horses are tired, we’re tired and the cattle need a break, so I whistle to call it.
It’s only just past one p.m., and our goal is to have them in the pasture by eight p.m. so we can get some miles back down to our camping spot before the light of day disappears.
We’re ahead of schedule, so we can take a break.
Elena and I are at the back of the herd, Chase at the front, and we work in tandem to bring the fifty-strong herd to a stop in a meadow.
The air is a little thinner, the sun a lot hotter, so it’s a reprieve to stop.
There’s a freshwater river running to the side that’ll serve to rehydrate, and shade from the evergreens that grow here.
I pull Honey to a stop and dismount, Elena and Apollo following suit.
Her hair sticks to her forehead beneath her hat, the white material of her shirt is somewhat see-through with her sweat.
Dropping Honey’s reins for a moment since I can trust her to stay put, I offer my hands up to Elena to help her dismount.
She takes it, landing on her feet, but the moment I release her weight, she falters, as if her knees have collapsed beneath her.
“Shit,” I capture her. “What is it?”
“Need a minute,” She grasps her injured thigh, just below where the bruising begins, and squeezes, “I’ve just been sat still for too long.”
“Elena,” I scold, “I told you to tell me–”
“And I would have,” She cuts me off. “It didn’t hurt, and right now it’s not painful per se, just sore.”
I glare at her.
“I promise,” She blinks her grey eyes up to me as she massages her thigh with her fingers, “Easing already.”
“And the ribs?”
“They’re okay.”
I feel my nostrils flare as I search her face for a hint of a lie, but her eyes are open, clear so I dip my chin and pick Honey’s reins back up, “When you can walk, follow me to the river.”
“Okay.” Apollo swings his big head around, his teeth nipping at her shirt, and she lets out a light laugh as she lifts her hand to scratch the end of his muzzle. That laugh…
Fuck.
It’s melodic, soothing, a sound you search for when all hope is lost. Like a summer breeze on a hot day.
I am so fucked.
Bringing Honey to a stop at the river, I let her take her fill of water, the water bubbling over rocks that flows through the trees, a lifeline for both the wildlife and the ranchers and cowboys that trail through these mountains.
I hear Elena coming up behind me, and she stops at my side, her arm brushing mine as Apollo begins to drink. “If I could just stay right here,” She whispers, “Forget the world and live in these trees for the rest of my life, I would.”
I glance down at her, seeing her face turned up the mountain, where the sky is the bluest it can be, and birds soar overhead.
“Why can’t you?” I ask.
A sad smile touches her lips. “It was never in the cards for me to live a peaceful life.”
“Everyone deserves a little peace, darlin’.”
“Not everyone,” She crouches to the river and dips her hands into the cool water, her lashes falling onto the slightly pink apples of her cheeks, “I think the idea is romantic but living it would be different.”
I remain quiet as I think about what it would be like too.
To just disappear, live wild and free with no responsibilities, no people depending on you to pay their salaries or provide a roof over their heads, no animals that trust you to keep them safe and healthy.
No debts or grief. But in every image, I see her.
I see her in my house, in my bed, in my kitchen and office.
I see her laughing with the guys and being soft with the one horse I didn’t think would ever love again.
The horizon had always been bleak, a wasteland I couldn’t avoid, but now… the shape of her cuts the wasteland in two.
Leaving her at the river with Apollo and Honey, I head to the herd and the other guys on the drive with us, checking over the herd as I go.
When everyone confirms they’ve rested enough, had enough water and can continue, I go back to Elena, pushing those thoughts of a future that’ll never happen for us away.
“Fill your bottle, we’ve got to move on.” My tone is flat, and when she turns to look at me, a question on her lips, I avert my eyes.
“Knox?”
“Let’s go.”
I take Honey away and wait for Elena to catch up, knowing she’ll need a hand.
Another thing I need to pretend doesn’t affect me. Little does she know the feel of her is a brand on my skin, as deeply burned into me as the scarring flesh on her thigh I put there with my steel branding iron.
Both she and Apollo stop at my side, and though I see the questions burning through her, she doesn’t voice them and simply accepts my hand to get her onto the back of the horse.
As much as it tempts me to slip into her Eden, to take what I crave so badly, that bleak horizon is only one slip-up away.