Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
ADDY
S ergeant moves under seat a little as I readjust my stirrups, and I ignore the panic that creeps up my insides. Hudson is right beside me. I am safe. Sergeant is safe. Everything is going to be A-OK...
My knuckles whiten around the reins. If I can make it through all three gaits today in the round yard, Hudson wants me to try the small paddock attached to the barn. And the thought of that much freedom on a horse ties my stomach into a thousand knots.
But we have three weeks left until the big roundup. Despite extra lessons and Hudson’s endless patience, I’m terrified. Not for me. I’ve fallen off horses more times than I care to count. What I can’t handle is that I might do something or make a decision that endangers Sergeant. And the thought of this wonderful boy getting hurt or me letting Hudson down gives me hives.
Hudson is distracted today. The usually light banter that took weeks to establish between us is strained. He’s tense. Is he worried about the camping trip? Maybe he thinks I expect things to heat up between us. I’m not gonna lie, that thought has crossed my mind a few times. Who am I trying to kid—it’s more like a lot. When I can’t sleep late at night... in the shower. Heat pools low in my belly thinking about it.
“Walk on, Howard,” Hudson says.
All business today. Righto . . .
I push the horse into a walk and shorten the reins. Two can play that game, Rawlins. I squeeze Sergeant into a trot and rise and fall with his footfalls. But Hudson’s brows lower and he puts his hands on his hips. Ugh. I squeeze the gelding into a canter and lope around the yard for a few revolutions.
Hudson doesn’t even look at us. He isn’t watching my body language, or Sergeant’s. His attention is somewhere else entirely. I pull Sergeant around and canter to where Hudson stands, sliding to a halt only inches from him.
Wow, that felt amazing. Sergeant takes two steps back automatically. I pat his neck. I am ready for the paddock. “Earth to Rawlins.”
He snaps back from wherever he was in that mind of his and jerks when he realizes we are standing right in front of him. “Shit, I’m sorry. Did you want me to lead you around?”
“Ah, no. Didn’t you see what we did?”
“I, ah?—”
“What is going on with you today?”
“Nothing. Did you want to try the paddock?”
I frown at him and gather the reins again before dismounting. He watches me, jaw clenched, as I lead Sergeant past him and to the gate. Opening the gate, I make my way to Sergeant’s paddock. I glance back to find Hudson and Charlie are trailing behind. I walk into the field and double-check the girth and my stirrups, waiting for Hudson to catch up. He closes the gate behind him and climbs up onto the rail. Charlie lies on the grass below him. “Show us what you’ve got, Howard.”
I huff a nervous laugh as the knots in my gut turn into a pit of writhing snakes. But I am not quitting now. I slide my foot into the stirrup and swing into the saddle. Charlie watches, his little head popping up from his paws for a moment. As if he can sense the snake pit in my gut, too.
Pushing the gelding into a walk, I track along the fence line, away from Hudson. The paddock is a perfect rectangle of grass, one horse shelter for bad weather, and a handful of trees. It’s secure, controlled, and in no way intimidating.
We break into a trot along the fence, and I shorten the reins, rising with his outside footfall, the way it was drummed into me in my early equestrian coaching days. Gosh, that was almost twenty years ago.
If only eight-year-old me could see what’s become of me.
She would be so mad. Going for years without riding. I can only imagine the pout I would get from her. With a soft laugh at my ridiculous inner monologue, I push Sergeant into a canter. We lope around the short end of the paddock, past the shelter and the first clump of trees. Happiness bubbles in my chest.
Hudson has a hand over his face, as if sheltering his eyes, as he watches us lope toward him. I pull back on the reins and slow to a walk as we close in on the fence-sitting duo.
“That was fantastic, Howard. Well done!”
“Thanks,” I say, almost out of breath. I shift in the saddle, and my hip twinges a little on the right.
Charlie bolts to his feet, hackles up. Hudson swings around to see what he’s doing. And then I see it. A snake in the grass, less than ten feet from Charlie. Ringing starts in my ears. Sergeant shuffles on his feet—he must have seen it, too.
“Fucking hell,” Hudson growls. “Charlie, away!”
Charlie barks at the snake. It pays him no heed. Winding its way through the short grass toward us. My heart beats so fast, my breath shallows out. A whimper leaves my lips. Hudson moves so he is between the snake and Sergeant.
“No,” I choke.
Charlie moves closer. His barking intensifies to shrill yapping. Stars encroach on my vision as bile claws up my throat. Hudson pulls off his hat and tosses it at the snake. But it rears up at him, hissing.
Hudson stands his ground, thumping his feet, yelling at it to get out of here. Then I shift my gaze to Charlie. Everything moves like molasses, so slow. He leans back on his haunches, growling. Then pounces.
My heart flies into my throat. “Charlie!”
Sergeant whinnies and backs away from the chaos. I hold the reins tight.
Charlie snaps his teeth around the snake’s neck an inch before its head and shakes it until it goes limp. Growling the whole time. He only lets it go when Hudson tells him to drop it. The mangled snake lies limp at his feet. I take a shaking foot from the stirrup and clamber from the horse. Hudson turns back as I duck under Sergeant’s neck and fall to the ground and crawl to where Charlie sits.
“Shit, Charlie.” I run my hands over his face, neck, and torso. Making sure the snake didn’t have a chance to sink its fangs into him while it was getting tossed about. Hudson comes to stand behind me, close. I hug the pup tight. The snake twitches on the ground beside me. Hudson slams a boot onto its head, grinding into the ground.
“Are—” Hudson starts, his voice cracking. “You alright, Howard?”
I nod, letting tears fall onto Charlie’s head.
A moment later, Hudson and Sergeant walk past and out the gate. I pick up Charlie and prop him over my shoulder. I walk to the barn and sit on the hay bales and love him up, scratching his belly.
“Aren’t you the bravest boy I know?”
He pants, rolling around under my hand.
Hudson appears, saddle in one hand, bridle in the other. “You shouldn’t fuss over him so much. He’s supposed to be a ranch dog.”
“Well, this is a well-earned reward, Rawlins. What’s got your goat today?”
He doesn’t answer; instead, he heads to the tack room. I dot a kiss to Charlie’s head and wander to the tack room. When I don’t hear any movement inside, I wander over. Hudson is standing at the back of the room, hands pressed against the back wall, head hanging. His back muscles ripple with every heaving breath he takes. What is going on with him?
I close the distance between us and stare at his back, trying to find something to say.
“Hudson?”
He doesn’t respond. Charlie trots around us but finds a scent and tracks it back out of the tack room. Like he didn’t just kill a snake. I make my way over to the feed bins, a row of rectangular sectioned feed storage with multiple hinged lids. I sit on the middle one and wait for him.
When I think he isn’t going to talk to me, I push off the bin and head for the door.
“I’m sorry, Addy.”
I stop in my tracks. Slowly, I turn back. He has spun around. His hands hang by his sides. His face is wrecked. My gut flips, breath caught in my lungs, not moving.
“It’s fine. Not your fault,” I choke out, shoving my hands into my back pockets, not sure what to do with them. I bite my bottom lip and suck in a breath.
He steps forward but hesitates. So, I close the space between us. He dips his head and meets my gaze.
“Charlie will be okay, he didn’t get bitten,” I offer.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m not worried about the dog.”
I raise an eyebrow. Since when is Hudson Rawlins not concerned about his horses, and his faithful little buddy Charlie? “Is Sergeant okay?”
“Yeah,” he chokes.
“Good.”
When he doesn’t open his eyes, I make my way to the door. I should get my gear ready for the camping trip. I hope what happened before doesn’t wreck the whole trip.
“Adeline.” His voice is gravel.
I stop, hands gripping the doorframe.
Holy shit.
That’s the first time he has ever used my full name.
He walks up behind me. “Turn around, Addy.”
I close my eyes; the rawness of his voice shallows everything out. I swallow past the rock wedged in my throat and drop my hands. My breath rises and falls in deep cycles. Fire floods my veins with every heartbeat as I open my eyes.
“Addy,” he whispers, desperation lining my name.
I turn back. His hat hangs in his fingertips by his side. His chest heaves. His disheveled hair is swept from his face. His blue eyes burn into mine when I reach them. A moment later, I drop my gaze to his lips, throat, and back to his eyes. Those blue pools swallow me whole. God, what I wouldn’t do to have Hudson Rawlins’s mouth on mine right?—
His hat slips from his fingers, and he takes my face in his hands, sinking his mouth over mine. I wrap my fingers around his collar. He deepens the kiss, and I open for him. Desperate for more. Heat floods my center. I run my hands inside his shirt, sweeping up his neck and into his hair.
He groans against my mouth. I press my body into his, and hardness rubs against my stomach. Suddenly, I don’t feel close enough to him. This is not enough. It never was. I am desperate for every part of this man. All of Hudson Rawlins.
Nothing less.
I break the kiss, and he rests his forehead on mine, breathing heavy.
“Want to go camping, Huddy?”
He chuckles. “You know, my mom calls me that.”
“Yeah, I know. But it’s sweet. It suits you.”
“You think I’m sweet, Howard?”
“I think you are many things, Rawlins.”
His hand cups my jaw as he dots a kiss to my nose. “And I you, Addy.”
He releases me and walks out the door, sliding his Stetson onto his head. Charlie darts from somewhere behind the hay bales and follows his master. I chuckle and fix my hair and straighten my clothes before making my way to my Cherokee to grab my camping stuff.
When Hudson pulls up alongside me in his truck, Charlie barks from the passenger’s seat, head out the window. I toss my bag and sleeping bag into the back and shut my trunk. I open the door, and Charlie moves to the center of the bench seat. I hop into the truck and close the door. “So, where are you taking me?”
A grin splits Hudson’s face, so bright, I can’t help but smile back. It may have been the kiss, the all-encompassing way he held me, or the way the light fills his eyes when he looks at me. But after all those weeks of grumpy Hudson, I’m irrevocably addicted to this side of him. And I know this is gonna hurt when it eventually goes sideways.
He shifts the stick into gear, and we roll down the gravel road toward the paddocks. We are going the same way we did to get to his house, but when we come to the foot of the hill, instead of going up, he tracks to the left, on a rough road that heads in the opposite direction.
We bounce along for around twenty minutes before the road starts to ascend. Trees have closed in around us, and I can’t see anything except the road ahead of us. Charlie curls up on the seat and closes his eyes.
When we start the climb, the trees thin out a little. A little while later, we reach the peak of the hill. And I am like a kid hanging out the window, gushing over the most magnificent view I have ever seen. And when Hudson turns the truck and backs it up a little, I swing my gaze to his smiling face. The truck jerks to a stop.
“Hop out, Howard.”
He turns off the truck. I push out of the door and wander to the back of the vehicle.
Oh. My. God.
Now I understand why they call this God’s country. Its stunning. We are on a hill that connects to others. Below, a crystal blue lake fills the space between us and the opposite hill. Hudson puts the tailgate down. I turn back to scan the horizon. And is that... ?
“That’s your house, Rawlins!” I gape at the sight of it. I mean, I saw the lake last time, but from this side of the vista, it’s like some kind of oil painting.
He laughs and lays an arm over my shoulders. “Yep, that’s my half a house.”
I laugh and he takes his arm back. He sweeps me off my feet, an arm under my legs, one under my shoulders and sits me on the tailgate. With the next breath, he is sitting beside me. I breathe him in and rest my head on his shoulder. “It’s so magnificent up here.”
“Yeah, the view’s pretty damn fine.” I look up at him, but he’s not looking at the mountains. His eyes are locked onto me.
“Hudson,” I protest.
“Adeline.”
I huff a laugh. God, why does Hudson saying my name make me crazy in the best way possible?
He holds out a palm and I rest my hand in it. His warm fingers curl around mine for a moment before they unfurl. He traces a rectangle on my palm with his finger. “This is what you can see of the house from here. What you can’t see are the parts I haven’t built yet. The stables go here.” He draws a long rectangle behind the house square. “The homestead vegetable garden goes here.” He draws another rectangle to one side of the house. “And the trees and the swing seat for two,” he says, his voice thickening, “that goes right here.”
“Who you gonna sit next to, Huddy?”
“I guess I’ll know her when she turns up.” His voice is raw, and he tries to force a smile. But his chest sinks deep with every breath.
“Like the way I turned up?”
His face splits into a happy smile. “Yeah. Something like that, Howard.”
I groan at him and swing my legs to one side before pushing up to my knees. When I move closer, he shuffles back a little. I step over his lap and sink, straddling him. His blue eyes darken. His hands find my face, and I claim his mouth.
Mine.
For a little while . . .