Chapter 12 #2
A rainy winter left the Wilde Pond, as we called it, bursting at the seams. Its tail end had even run off and made a small gulley and stream leading through the trees.
I have no idea how big Finn Wilde's ranch is, but I've never seen the end of it.
Finn's father, Lachlann, a man whose reputation was as infamous and notorious as his son's, purchased the land with what my grandmother liked to call less that above board means.
Lachlann built a small cabin on the property, and Finn built the second one, a beautiful big cabin that was far too pretty and fancy for the man and boys who lived in it.
A crystal blue sky is draped over the chaparral landscape.
A good ten acres of the ranch is covered in buildings, including an eight-horse barn, storage sheds, and riding arenas.
Every one of Finn's boys is an expert rider, but Zander is the one who really loves the horses.
He plans to spend his summer breaking a few colts from neighboring ranches, a job that pays little but causes plenty of bruises.
He's never happy unless he's doing something that has the potential for an emergency room visit.
I glance down at my book. Admittedly, I'm having a hard time concentrating on it because of the loud music, howling laughter and intermittent cannon balls into the pond.
Like all good ponds, there's a rope dangling from a long branch that, if you take off at a good run, will carry you right out to the middle of the pond.
It seems like half the school is here getting high and celebrating the end of the school year.
For Zander and me and some of the other kids, it's the end of our formal schooling period.
There were a hundred fifty kids in our graduating class.
Zander wasn't sure he'd get to walk with the rest of us until a week before the ceremony, and even then, I think Finn's last-minute visit to the school was the only reason he graduated.
It was entirely possible that the teachers had a hand in it, too.
They were probably begging the principal to let the first Wilde move on. That meant one down and four to go.
"Hey, Nevvie, get ready for some splash," Zander calls as he hangs onto the rope.
He's shirtless, and there's nothing about him that says boy anymore.
He has a shoulder span that sends any girl's heart, even my cold one (Kinsley's words, not mine) racing.
His thick brown hair is wet and pushed back off his handsome face, and his blue eyes mirror the color of the pond beneath the blue sky.
I suck in a quick breath, a reaction I save solely for Zander.
I don't know why, but it's been that way since we were ten.
Zander's holler echoes through the valley, and the girls around the pond squeal with delight as he pulls back and then runs toward the pond.
He flies out to the center. It seems time stops for him as he releases the rope, curls his giant physique into a ball and displaces gallons of pond water with his landing.
The water reaches me but only enough to spray my outstretched legs and my glittery bookmark.
Everyone waits for Zander to pop back through the surface and end his cannon ball with the same loud holler that started it.
There's just a rippling concentration of concentric circles over where he landed.
Then the circles stop. People who'd still been carrying on at the other side of the pond stop their laughter and talking.
Jameson and Colin push up higher out of the water, and in unison they push their wet hair back out of their faces.
"Hey, Zander!" Jameson calls. There's nothing.
Just stillness. I hop to my feet, and people are now looking my way.
I spent all three years of high school as a lifeguard at the public pool.
I plunge into the water, my heart racing.
In those three years, I had to rescue four people, and it was always an adrenaline rush, but this time, it's more than that.
I'm seriously freaked out but trying to keep my lifeguard training front and center in my mind.
I dive into the cold water still wearing my shirt and shorts.
I'm seriously missing my slick, light lifeguard swimsuit.
I reach the center of the pond and glance frantically around.
Jameson and Colin are swimming toward me.
Suddenly, the water behind me moves as if a giant sea serpent has just coiled up from the depths.
The surface breaks, and that holler we were all waiting for roars through the landscape.
Water sprays at me as Zander flips his wet hair back. "Whooee, Nevvie, I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold my breath. Guess you hesitated longer than I expected."
I turn slowly in the water and stare angrily at him.
"Uh-oh," he says. "Surprise?" he asks weakly.
"Fuck you, Z," Jameson shouts, and others join in on the condemnation.
Zander holds up his hands. "Shit. Bunch of grumps." The others get back to their fun, but I'm standing there in my wet clothes, not quite ready to let this go. "No one can take a joke," he says.
"Well, that's probably because drowning isn't a joke, you big fucking jerk.
" I splash water at him. It seems like silly payback considering my heart rate is just starting to slow down.
My dramatic finale is me trying to march angrily back to shore, but I'm weighted down by my wet clothes and the bottom of the pond is so slimy I can't get any traction.
I slip and fall forward just as I'm going past him.
His arm shoots out, and I land on it. He helps me back to my feet. His smile is gone.
"I'm sorry, Nevvie. Didn't mean to scare you."
"Who said you scared me?" I say, lamely. I swim back to shore and trudge back up to my towel. Water is pouring off me as I turn and sit down hard.
Zander is still watching me. I pull my gaze away, and he swims to shore, walks out of the pond and tromps barefoot toward the ranch.
I rest back in the sun, hoping to dry off. I rode over with a couple of friends, but I don't mind walking home. I'm finished with the big start of summer celebration.
Twenty minutes later, my clothes are starting to feel damp instead of wet.
Not sure which I prefer. I put on my sandals.
The two mile walk home and the strong summer sun will help dry them the rest of the way.
Zander never came back to the pond, and I'm good with that.
He's on the top of my asshole list at the moment.
I walk over to my sister. She and a few of her friends are making root beer floats. They laugh wildly as the root beer foam bubbles up and over the rims of the paper cups. "Kiki, I'm going home."
Kinsley looks up from the cup she's holding. Fuzzy brown foam is flowing over her hand like lava from a volcano. "Why are you leaving? Here, have a root beer float. It'll cheer you up."
"No thanks. The sun is giving me a headache."
"Kiki, where the hell are those root beer floats?" Zach calls from the pond.
"Hold your damn horses. And whoever brought these tiny paper cups"—she holds up the cup.
The foam has stopped flowing mostly because there's hardly any root beer left—"I just want to say fuck you.
The cups are way too small. Everyone is getting a teaspoon of ice cream.
" Kinsley turns back to me. "Melinda is going to give us a ride home. "
"I don't mind walking. It'll give my clothes a chance to dry, but could you bring my stuff—my book and my towel and bag? I don't want to carry them home."
"Yeah, all right. See you later."
I head off. "Nev, where you going?" Jameson calls from across the pond.
"Heading home. Thanks for the invite." I wave.
"Don't let that big idiot ruin the day. Where'd he go, anyway?" Jameson asks as he looks around.
"I think he went to the barn." I wave again to let him know I'm still leaving.
The pond is about a quarter mile from the barn area.
It's a crude trail, mostly made by dirt bike tire tracks.
It's getting warm enough that I'm keeping a sharp lookout for snakes, especially with my bare toes and ankles.
Sharp brown grass and shrubs line the path, but I manage to get through without a scratch.
I don't see Zander as I pass quickly through the barnyard.
He's either in the house or in the barn, but I'm not slowing down to find out.
I find out anyway. As I reach the long, gravel drive that leads off the ranch and to the road, I spot him riding toward me bareback on his favorite horse, Arrow.
He's still shirtless and barefoot and wearing his board shorts.
The muscles in his stomach ripple as he uses slight leg and body movements to coax Arrow up the path.
He's one of those riders who is so in tune with the animal beneath him, you can't tell where the rider starts and the horse ends.
Angry as I am at him, my heart flutters at the sight of him up on his black gelding.
Zander reins the horse over and stops next to me. He is always at a position where he looks down at me, but up on a horse, it feels more pronounced. I shade my eyes and confidently lift my chin higher to meet his gaze.
"You're leaving," he says.
"Looks that way. My clothes are wet."
"Yeah, I know. Sorry about all that. I was just messing around." He smiles cockily. "Plus, I wanted to see how the world's cutest lifeguard would react."
"Well done." I keep walking.
He pulls on the reins and backs Arrow up so that his backward steps stay parallel with my forward ones. After a few feet, I stop with a loud sigh. "What do you want, Zander?"
He leans down and lowers his hand to me.
I stare at it.
"C'mon, hop on behind me."
"Not in the mood," I say.
"But you love to ride. I want to show you something," he teases.
I shade my eyes again and look up at him in question.