Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
HUDSON
I lie in bed, trying to push away the image of Addy on my porch in that fucking sundress. All she wanted to do was talk about Harry and horses. All I wanted to do was flip that pretty yellow skirt up, pull her onto my lap, and let her sink onto me. Over and over, until every last one of those horrible memories from her accident were a distant memory.
But since I’m a fucking gentleman, I did no such thing. But the second her hand touched my chest, I was hard as hell. How can she do that to me with only the lightest touch? A smile and a look from those deep brown eyes. The curve of her lips. What I wouldn’t do to taste those.
And now I am painfully hard. Fuck. A grown man, thirty-fucking-four for god’s sake, hard just looking at this woman. Jesus. It’s for the best she is leaving at the end of her six months. Because this is starting to feel very much like it could wreck me if we went there and it went sideways. Memories of tough days and impossible nights after Jemma flood in.
Like that, the blood rushes back to my brain. Nope, rider and coach, client and vet will have to be as good as it gets for Addy and me. I will have to make sure that it stays that way. It’s better for her that way.
The smell of pancakes finds its way to my room, and I roll out of bed and head to the kitchen. Ma stands behind the skillet, flipping methodically. The coffee already dripping away, I grab a mug from the top cabinet behind her.
“Addy coming today?” she asks.
“Yup. Needs to make better progress if she’s going to make the roundup.”
“Hudson, you’re not pushing her too hard, are you?”
“Of course not.”
“I know what your father expects, and what her reality is may not exactly line up. I have been doing some research on her fall?—”
“You what?”
She tilts her head and gives me the don’t shoot me expression. “I was worried about her; I thought it would help if we knew what she went through, that it would help you?—”
I slam the mug on the counter. “Howard will tell us when she is good and ready, not a second before.”
“Huddy. She?—”
“Nope.” I hold a hand up.
All of a sudden, I ain’t hungry. I walk out and back to my room to change. I pull on jeans and a t-shirt before socks. I make my way to the porch and slide on my boots, grabbing my Stetson and shoving it on my head, fire still coursing through my veins with Ma’s good intentions. What the hell was she thinking? After Harry’s lack of tact yesterday, I thought they would realize it’s best to let things play out in their own time. But no, she decided to snoop instead.
Fuck me.
I whistle, and Charlie is at my side a heartbeat later. “Hey, boy. Least you make her happy. Come on. We have work to do.”
He trots alongside me. Low clouds threaten overhead, the air thick with moisture. Addy’s car pulls up as we clear the white gate, and she gets out of her car, making a beeline for Charlie. Lucky bastard.
Great start Hudson, be jealous of the fucking dog.
Addy’s jeans hug her frame and her cream half-sleeve top is done up with a bunch of metal clasps, like a V-neck, resting over the swell of her chest. Her silky brown curls are loose and around her shoulders today. I remind myself why she is here, for the thousandth time this morning.
“Hello, little man. You with us today?” She is on the ground with him. Charlie licks her face, and she roughs him up.
“Morning, Howard. Ready to take a turn around the yard today?”
Her fussing stops and she meets my gaze, looking up from the ground. “Hopefully.”
“Let’s go.” I march to the barn, and she walks behind me, talking to Charlie. Making my way into the barn, I grab a halter before her shadow fills the doorway to the tack room. Charlie waltzes in, sniffing the floor around the room.
“I will meet you in the wash area. I’ll help you saddle him up.” I hand her the halter.
“Okay,” she says, scanning my face, as if trying to find what’s different since yesterday.
“Go on.”
Something like hurt flashes in her eyes before she schools it back and nods, turning and heading to the paddocks. Fuck, I am the world’s biggest ass. But it’s better this way. She doesn’t need this. She needs to keep her job. To ride again. Whatever else this is, it’s not why we’re here.
I grab up Sergeant’s bridle, blanket, and saddle and walk to the pastures and out to Silver. Charlie is stuck to Addy’s side. Traitor. I rest the saddle and bridle on the top rail and climb through a lower one and walk to where Silver stands under her tree. She is thinner than a few weeks ago. Old age, maybe.
When Addy halters Sergeant and walks past, I slip through the rail again, pulling the gear into my arms. I pass her the bridle as she slips the halter off. She talks softly to the gelding while she slides the bit into his mouth and the headband over his ears.
I saddle him, taking in the words she uses. The tone of her voice. There’s no fear. A little sadness, but no fear. When the girth is done up, I step back and give her a nod. She leads Sergeant toward the round yard. And now I see it, her stiff shoulders. The awkward sway of her gait. Her ribs flaring under that tight-fitting cream shirt with every quick breath.
Once inside the round yard, I tighten the girth and turn back to Addy. Her eyes are slightly wider, her hands wringing together, that bottom lip pulled into her teeth. I drop the reins to the ground and close the space between her and me.
I take her arms in my hands and tilt my head down a little. “You are okay. Sergeant will take good care of you. We both will. Once around the yard, and that’s it. No more.”
She nods, fast.
I turn to face the horse and move in beside her. “What are you thinking, Howard?”
“You should go first.” She is shaking now, her breath ragged.
“Will that make it easier, if you see me go around first?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Righto.”
I move to the gelding, pluck up the reins, and grip the pommel before swinging into the saddle. Her gaze lifts to mine. Her lips part, and she drops her hands to her sides. With a cluck from me, Sergeant walks on. She tracks us as we make our way around the yard, turning on the spot, her focus not wavering. When I complete the revolution of the round yard, I pull the horse to a halt.
“Your turn, Howard.” I dismount and lead Sergeant to where she stands. She rubs his forehead with a shaking hand.
“I will walk beside you, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers.
“You need help getting on?”
She shakes her head no and moves to the side, raising her foot into the stirrup. She glances at me before gripping the reins and some mane. I move beside her and hold Sergeant steady, and she pulls up and mounts. She rearranges her hands and adjusts her feet in the stirrups. Her seat is perfect, her posture impeccable. She would have been one hell of a rider.
Something flips deep in my gut. “Right, you want to rein him around, or me to lead him?”
Her gaze, that has been frozen on the two ears flickering back and forth in front of her, snaps to mine. “You lead.” She’s almost out of breath.
Jesus.
“Hey, Addy?”
Her wide eyes find me.
“You’re alright.”
She nods, but I can see she doesn’t believe me. What will it take to get this girl back to being at home on a horse? We have six weeks to find out.
I lead the gelding at a slow walk around the yard. When we come full circle, I steady him to a halt and look up. She’s frozen. Her breathing is rough and raspy. Oh shit.
“Addy.”
She doesn’t move. Her eyes, not seeing, are fixed somewhere ahead of us. I pull her foot from the stirrup and slide mine in and push up, leaning on Sergeant to move in front of her. “Addy?”
She sucks in a staggered lungful on a soft whimper.
“Howard?”
“Hudson?” she rasps.
“I’m right here. I’m gonna get you down now, alright?”
But she doesn’t respond right away. “No, please.” Her stare snaps and her face crumples. But she takes the reins up. “Let me try again.”
“No, Howard.”
“Let me try again.” She is so close to me, her breath lands on my face. “Please.”
The way she begs shouldn’t affect me the way it does. But with my heartstrings thoroughly plucked, I slide back to the ground and remove my foot from the stirrup and replace it with hers. Her hands shake around the reins, but she gives me a stiff nod.
I step back from Sergeant, and she gives him a squeeze with her legs. Shoulders back, jaw tight, she moves with him in the saddle as he walks on. Addy is the bravest soul I have ever met, and I don’t even know her story. Hell, I don’t even know what Addy is short for. I make a promise to myself to do better from now on. For the ranch. For her.
When they are halfway around, she sucks in a breath and holds it. I track her body movements. Her legs squeeze the gelding, and he breaks into a trot.
Shit.
But to my surprise, she rises and falls with the gait like a pro with every outside front hoof step. And a small, wobbly smile flickers over her face before she reins Sergeant in and pulls him to a halt.
Well damn, she did it. Surprising me again. I walk to the gelding and rest a hand on the rein near the bit, rubbing his face with my free hand.
“That was . . . ” Her words peter out.
“Epic, Howard, that’s what that was. Guess who’s going camping next weekend?”
“Yes!” She pumps both fists into the air before bending down and hugging Sergeant’s neck. The storm clouds rumble overhead.
“We should get this old man squared away in his paddock before the sky bursts.” I offer my hand, but Addy swings her leg behind her and dismounts, removing her foot from the stirrup. When she turns back, she’s inches from me. And for a heartbeat I don’t move, taking this incredible woman in as she stands, still shaking. The smile that beams over her gorgeous face is addictive. And I tip my hat to her, a well done for a hard-won task. “Well done, Howard.”
“Thanks, Hudson. We should go before we get soaked.”
I’d pay good money to see that cream shirt soaked through. So, I take my time leading the gelding back to the barn. Addy walks beside me. She’s quiet, and I know she is processing what just happened. I pray that it is all good progress from this point onward, but I know from experience that sometimes it’s one step forward and two steps back. Especially when it comes to rider psychology.
It’s a huge undertaking to trust an animal with your life again, especially after a traumatic accident. A tiny part of me wishes I knew what happened to Addy. What could possibly have someone like her, with such a love for horses and obvious riding prowess, out of the saddle? If I am lucky, maybe one day she will let me in and share her story. If Ma doesn’t find it by hunting it down first ...
As we release Sergeant to his paddock, thunder cracks overhead and rain pours from the dark clouds. In seconds, we are both drenched through, and I force my focus back to the barn when Addy takes off running for its shelter. I follow, flying into the barn after her as she scrambles to a halt, chuckling.
Her hair is dangling over her face, neck, and shoulders. The cream top that she has on is almost translucent. The dark bra underneath snags my attention before I train it elsewhere. Addy walks in a circle, ringing out her hair and then her shirt. It lifts as she wrings it between her hands, her belly exposed up to her ribs.
I track my focus to outside, but it’s too late. My cock is rock hard. Heat swells in my belly and my heart thunders.
“You’re all wet, Rawlins.”
I stifle the groan that wants out of my throat. The blood from my brain well and truly migrated south, I don’t dare turn around. And she appears by my side a heartbeat later. Her shirt is back down, but the navy bra shows through the wet material that now clings to her skin, over the swell of her breasts, the curve of her ribs, narrowing at her waist.
I shove both hands through my hair and think of anything but the woman beside me. And then she moves. Closing the distance between us, she stands right in front of me.
Fuck me.
“What are you thinking?” she breathes.
Her chest rises and falls erratically. As if she read my mind, her gaze drops to my mouth.
“Addy,” I rasp.
Her hand rises as if she wants to touch me. “Thank you for today, Hudson.”
I clear my throat. “You’re welcome. Just doing my job.”
Her hand falls, and she takes a step back. “I guess I’ll see you next Saturday, then.”
“Yep. Don’t forget your camping gear.”
“Sure thing,” she says, but the words are flat, and she turns back and walks into the rain before getting into her car and driving away. Her taillights disappear in the misty downfall, and I swallow hard.
Sweet Jesus, why did that feel like the worst moment of my entire life?