Chapter 8
8
Rachel
I ’m standing in the kitchen with a go-mug of coffee, nibbling a strawberry pop-tart before Zane and Edward have even gotten out of bed.
I know those guys. They’ll sleep until the very last minute, then roll out of bed, stagger across the hall to brush their teeth, pull on jeans, T-shirts, and in Zane’s case, a long-sleeved plaid shirt.
Then they’ll both appear, ready to go in less than five minutes. Edward will look like my little brother, while Zane will look like he just stepped off the pages of a men’s outdoor magazine.
I, on the other hand, require a bit of prep to look this regular. My hair is twisted up in space buns, and I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt and the only pair of jeans I own. They’re almost 100 percent spandex, because blue jeans are the work of Satan.
I prefer my pants loose and forgiving.
Or skirts .
Still, I figure if I’m going to be hanging around in a barn, I should take my cues from the master and try to mimic his wardrobe. The only problem is I own no plaid, and my sole baseball cap has Kiss My Grits patched on the crown.
Gran gave it to me. She thought it was hilarious, but I wasn’t old enough to get the reference.
Of course, that launched her into a speech about how all the best shows, movies, music, everything are gone, and if she taught a course in college it would be on early 1980s sitcoms and social commentary.
“You’re up early.” Zane’s low voice triggers a hot thrill from my stomach all the way to my toes.
He walks into the kitchen, filling the space with his warm scent of cedar and soap and something comforting all his own.
Kiss my grits .
“I wanted to be sure I was ready, and have some breakfast.” I hold up the Pop-Tart I’m eating.
He hesitates, and I swear he almost smiles. “Good call. We don’t usually have food out there, and I don’t want you to have any problems.”
“Don’t worry. I always have these.” I pull a handful of grape Jolly Ranchers out of my pocket. “Is Edward up?”
As if to answer my question, I hear the sound of the bathroom door closing upstairs.
Zane glances up, and I take a second to admire his strong arms, his broad shoulders, the lines in his neck, his silky dark hair, before his blue eyes land on mine again, stealing my breath.
“Putting on his uniform,” I say.
This time he does smile, and his straight white teeth paired with that dimple in his cheek is breathtaking. “He does like that shirt.”
I take a sip of coffee to center my thoughts. “I don’t think he knows I have three versions of it.”
“Where did you find three versions of that shirt? ”
“You can find anything on eBay.”
He nods, glancing at my mug. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew. He’s a smart guy—and he has a nose.”
Pressing my lips together, I give him a half-smile. “I’m not sure middle schoolers will be okay with a kid who wears the same outfit every single day of the week, even if it is clean.”
“When I was in school, we had kids with special needs.” He speaks slowly, thoughtfully. “It wasn’t okay to treat them differently or make fun of them. Or bully them.”
“It’s never okay on the record. It’s when the teachers aren’t around that bad things tend to happen. Then it’s Edward’s fault for being different.”
His dark brow furrows, and he looks over his shoulder. “I can only tell you my experience. But it wasn’t allowed by my teachers, and we didn’t allow it as fellow students.”
Shifting my weight to one side, I cross my arms. “What made your school so different?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if it was the kids or the parents—or dealing with hurricanes every year.”
I lift my chin. “Right. You learned to have each other’s backs.”
“Either way, we weren’t about punching down, and we didn’t tolerate kids who did.”
The sound of footsteps on the stairs ends our conversation. I take a final sip of coffee as I finish off my breakfast.
When Edward appears around the corner, I hold up the second one from the package. “Are you hungry?”
He steps forward to take it from me. “Strawberry?”
“Always.”
He nods, taking a bite before heading to the door.
“What’s that?” Zane holds the door as I leave.
“Kellogg’s Strawberry Pop-Tarts. The only toaster pastry worth eating.”
“Noted.”
Shiloh is a gorgeous horse. I don’t know how tall he is. I do know horses’ heights are measured in hands, but I’ve never known how it works. All I know is he’s tall. My head comes up to the base of his neck. His body is a smooth brown with almost black stockings. A white spot on his head looks like a heart, and he’s proud.
He’s also extremely gentle, which is unusual for a racehorse.
“We try to get ones that have been gelded for whatever reason,” Gloria explains as we walk with her down the hall of the barn past stall after stall of beautiful, shiny horses. “A lot of them are kept for studs, but these old guys weren’t just lame, they didn’t bring in money. So nobody wanted them.”
“They’re so beautiful.”
“No prizes for beauty in the racing game. It’s all about the speed and the endurance—and the money. Above all, the money.”
We stop at the arena, and Edward stands beside Shiloh. Zane is with him, and Gloria goes to the horse’s other side. My stomach is somehow tight and churning at the same time.
Edward has never done anything like this, but when we got here, he went straight into the stall and started brushing the tall animal without any hesitation.
“Ready to ride?” Zane’s tone is upbeat yet calm.
Edward studies the horse in front of him. Shiloh is wearing a traditional western saddle, and he lowers his head before jerking it back up again like he’s trying to nod.
“Looks like Shiloh’s ready,” Gloria’s calm voice contains a smile, and she turns to my brother. “What do you think, Edward? It’s okay if you want to wait a few more days.”
My brother glances at me briefly and seems to make a decision. “I’m ready. The chances of me being seriously injured by a fall from a horse simply walking are very slim.”
My breath catches. I wasn’t told he could be hurt. I thought you could only get hurt riding a horse if you were running or doing fancy jumps or something professional-level like that.
“You’ll be fine. Put one hand on the saddle horn and the other on the back.” Zane’s low voice is confident, and he helps Edward latch his foot in the stirrup. “If you need the step…”
Before he can finish, Edward lifts himself off the ground and tosses a leg over Shiloh’s back. My stomach jumps, but he’s sitting with perfect posture on the elegant horse.
He looks like a natural, and my eyes heat. “You did it!”
“Do you want to take a picture?” Sandra is at my side, and I jump.
“Thanks.” I huff a laugh, digging out my phone. “I would’ve completely forgotten.”
“We get that a lot.” Her voice is warm, and I hold up my phone.
I walk to the front of the horse and take his picture, then I walk to the side again. The only addition to his They Might Be Giants tee and jeans is a riding helmet, but he could be a real horseman for all I know.
“We’d better get moving so we don’t run out of time.” Zane looks up at Edward. “Ready?”
My brother nods, and they start walking. Gloria’s on one side, and Zane’s on the other, and they walk at a normal pace into the large arena. Other kids are already there riding with help. A few ride on their own, but all are well-supervised.
I climb the steps to the bleachers and sit on the front row taking a short video as they walk past. Once they’re gone, I quickly text it to my grandmother.
Edward’s riding a horse!
Gran
How in the world did he do that?
My coworker also works at a horse farm, and they do equine therapy.
Gran
What’s that?
Horses help reduce stress and calm anxiety. Edward really loves it.
Gran
Is it helping him in school?
I don’t know, but I think it will.
Gran
Is he in school?
My throat tightens, and I don’t want to lie to her.
I’m starting him in January. I didn’t want to drop him in a new place in the middle of the holidays.
Gran
Sometimes that’s a good time to start. Less schoolwork, less stress.
I think it’s exams, but don’t worry.
Gran
Your dad asked, and I didn’t know what to say.
Anger flashes in my throat, and my jaw tightens.
Tell him I’m taking care of it.
Gran
He asked what happened. I don’t want to lie to him.
Don’t tell him anything. He’ll only cause trouble.
Gran
I’ll do my best, but it is his son.
When it’s convenient for him.
Gran
I love you, honey. I’d like to see you both.
I’ll try to bring you here. I don’t want to go back there until we’re settled.
Gran
Keep me posted.
I love you, Gran.
My body is tense, and my muscles are weak from the adrenaline rush. I don’t like knowing my dad is sniffing around trying to cause problems.
“Why does he even care?” I hiss under my breath, and my fingers tremble.
He only shows up when he wants something.
“Everything okay?” Zane’s voice draws my attention, and I look up to see him holding the reins with the horse and my brother behind him.
“Yes—all good!” I shove my hand in my pocket, quickly unwrapping a Jolly Rancher and popping it into my mouth. “Gran says hello, Edward, and you look like a real horseman!”
“I like riding horses.” He says it like he’s reading a menu.
Still, it makes me smile. His face is free of all tension, and it’s clear he really does like it.
“I’m so glad I was here to witness your very first ride.”
Zane is still watching me like he’s worried, which is a switch. “We’d better take Shiloh back. Miss Gina will wonder where we are.”
“Don’t want her to think we’ve abandoned her!” I know my voice is overly cheerful, and I’m not helping my all good case.
They turn, and I hang out as they slowly walk the horse to the stables. I’ve got to talk to Dylan and get my shit sorted out now, before something goes wrong.