Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A dam dug into barn chores with a vengeance. He wasn’t used to facing problems he couldn’t solve and he didn’t like it. Grousing about the issue to the horses as he passed out hay flakes didn’t change anything but the horses were good listeners.
After they finished their breakfast, he turned them out into the snowy pasture except for his roan Banjo, plus Sol, the stunning palomino Mila had ridden for years, and Pickles, Claudette’s handsome bay, named for his favorite treat — a nice, fat dill pickle.
Transferring that bunch to the corral, he turned on the old radio in the tack room and cranked up the volume on the country station it was permanently tuned to. Then he grabbed a pitchfork and a rake, rolled the wheelbarrow into position and started mucking out stalls.
The barn was cold this time of year, but he put his back into the job and soon had to ditch his jacket. Felt good to sweat.
“Thought I might find you here.”
He turned around so fast he almost fell over. He regained his balance with the help of the rake. ”Hey, there.” His attempt at a casual greeting failed miserably, coming out more as a wheeze than actual words.
Tracy stood outside the stall bundled up in a jacket and knit cap. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. I called out, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”
“Had the radio on.” Like she hadn’t noticed that. Why was she here? And why hadn’t he shaved before heading to the barn?
“I need to tell you something.”
He swallowed. “Okay.”
“Mila and Claudette know.”
He sucked in a breath. Didn’t need clarification on that factoid. “You told them last night?” So much for his stealthy plan.
“Mila flat-out asked. Considering how I’ve been avoiding her for weeks I thought she deserved to know why.”
His heart thudded painfully in his tight chest. “How did they react?”
“They want to help.”
“ Help ?” He stared at her in confusion. “How in the hell could they?—”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure they know, but they figured the four of us could discuss it during the ride this afternoon.”
“Dear God. Please tell me you didn’t agree to that.”
“I did agree. At first the plan was not to bring it up until we were on our way back, but then we decided that would be an ambush.”
“No kidding.”
“So now you know and you’re free to back out of the ride.”
“You’ll still go?”
“Absolutely. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. You get a different perspective when you’re surrounded by nature.”
“And the three of you will discuss this even if I’m not there?”
“Why not? We talked about it last night when you weren’t there and they came up with a valuable insight I hadn’t considered.”
“Which is?”
“We’re each other’s forbidden fruit.”
“What? No, that’s not me. I don’t?—”
“Think about it.” She turned to leave, then swung back around. “I almost forgot. You have my permission to talk about this to anyone, anyone at all. Keeping it a secret just adds to the juiciness of forbidden fruit.”
He groaned. “Damn it, you’re not forbidden fruit!”
“Oh yes, I am.” She turned and walked away. “I’m yours and you’re mine. Deal with it.”
“You’re wrong, Trace. They’re wrong.”
“You can tell them on the ride.”
“What makes you think I’ll go?”
“I’ve known you for twenty-two years. See you at one o’clock.”
“You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Trace!”
“’Bye, Adam.” She walked out of the barn.
He let loose with a few choice words, ones the town mayor should never say in public. He’d officially lost control of the situation.
He really wanted to skip the ride, if only to prove that she didn’t know him like the back of her hand. But of course she did, and he headed for the barn at twelve-thirty, shaved, showered and out of his element.
Mila and Claudette had beat him there. They’d tied all three horses to the hitching post and were busy grooming Sol and Pickles.
Mila flashed him a grin. “You look like you just sucked on a lemon, hermano .”
“Let’s just say I’d rather suck on a dozen lemons in a row than go through with this.”
“But you’re here!” Claudette combed a tangle out of Pickles’ mane. “You have no idea how good it makes me feel to know my big brother is still capable of a lapse in judgment.” Her smug expression was the same as when she’d caught him making out behind the barn with Tammy Ethridge, his first girlfriend.
“I never intended for you to know.”
“Where’s the fun in that? And be honest. Do you have a plan for handling this delicate matter?”
“Maybe.”
“Excellent!” Mila tossed him the brush she’d been using. “All ideas are welcome on the trail. Oh, and Trace said you rejected our forbidden fruit theory.”
“I can’t speak for her, but she wasn’t forbidden fruit to me. I never once considered asking her out.” He swept the brush over Banjo’s broad back. The midday sun picked up the red in his coat. He’d always loved that color.
“You didn’t consider it because subconsciously you knew you weren’t supposed to.” Mila disappeared into the barn.
“That’s BS!” he called after her. “I didn’t ask her because we didn’t think of each other that way!”
“That’s how forbidden fruit works.” Claudette pointed the curry comb at him. “You submerge any desire you feel because that person is out of bounds. Then one day, or one night in your case, someone makes a move and bam! Full-blown lust.”
His gut clenched. “Thank you, Dr. Freud.”
“You’re welcome. Watch Camelot . Classic forbidden fruit story. Now give me that brush before you scrub your poor horse bald.”
Stepping back, he had to admit a fair amount of the gelding’s thick winter coat had ended up in the bristles of the brush. He cleaned it out and handed it to Claudette. “I’ll get Banjo’s tack.” On his way into the barn, he passed Mila carrying Sol’s blanket, saddle and bridle.
She paused. “Don’t worry, hermano . It’ll be fine.”
“You always say that.”
“It will. Just promise me you’ll listen.”
“I always do.”
“No, you don’t.” Her smile softened the words.
“Okay, I promise to listen.”
He had been listening. He’d heard every word his sisters had said, and they were dead wrong. He’d never thought of Tracy in sexual terms until now, not even in his dreams. Or wait… the image stopped him in his tracks.
There was a dream, the summer he turned sixteen. He and Tracy were at the water hole... kissing… and her clothes were… yeah, no clothes, none for him either and then… he woke up, hard as a fence post. He’d forgotten all about it.
Or shoved it deep into his subconscious? Pretended it never happened? She was part of the family, a buddy. Thinking of her like that was bad, disrespectful, not cool… and forbidden?
“Adam?”
Claudette’s voice snapped him out of his daze. He reached for Banjo’s bridle. “Just remembered something. You might have a point, Claudie.” Laying the bridle on top of the saddle and blanket, he picked up everything and turned.
His sister’s warm gaze took him aback. “What?”
“Just when I’m thinking you’re the most bull-headed man on the planet, you go and prove me wrong. It’s an endearing trait of yours.”
“Thanks, but even if I agree with your premise, it doesn’t help. It just makes things worse.”
“Maybe, maybe not. If?—”
“Tracy and Moonlight are riding in!” Mila called out. “Let’s not keep them waiting!”
His body heated. Tracy — Guinevere to his Lancelot. If he remembered correctly, that story ended in tragedy.