Chapter Six #5
“You were training in an outdoor arena.” I fought the pang of pain that still filled my chest when I thought back to that day. “I had just arrived at Silvercrest from Texas. Literally. That day. Within the first ten minutes on its grounds, I saw you in a nearby arena, jumping Henry.”
Jasper frowned, clearly trying to recall it.
I turned my body toward him. I was so tired, but I didn’t want Jasper to stop talking to me.
The unease between us had finally ebbed, and it almost felt surreal to be here with him, in this car, just him and me talking.
Younger me would have been screaming. “I don’t remember it. What did we talk about?” he asked.
Tucking a damp strand of my hair behind my ear, I said, “I’d never seen anyone ride English before.
I wandered over to the arena and watched you jump.
” I shook my head, still remembering the butterflies that accosted me, watching him sail over the spread fence with such regality.
“I was mesmerized.” Jasper waited for me to continue.
“You asked me if I’d jumped before. I told you I hadn’t, and you told Aunt Jeanie to teach me. ”
“So you started riding quite late?” he said, a sliver of awe in his voice. Like he couldn’t believe I was a professional now after only starting in my early teens. Most people in our industry were brought up in the saddle and were competing as young children.
“I’ve always ridden. But I only knew western, Jasper. I was brought up on a cattle ranch.” Jasper’s eyes flared a little, and I allowed myself to entertain the thought that he was imagining me in my chaps and cowboy hat and nothing else.
No, Hallie. Don’t go there.
“Wait,” he said, eyes on the road ahead but tight, as though he was trying to recall something.
“I think I might remember it,” he said, and my heart thudded faster in my chest. He looked over and caught my stare with his own.
“It’s hazy. But I remember Jeanie introducing me to you.
I think?” He blinked, like he couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“The little cowgirl? That was you, huh?”
I lifted one of my feet, showing I was wearing my old Ariats. I tipped my pretend hat. “Nice to make your acquaintance, sir.”
My heart missed a beat the moment that “sir” left my mouth.
But it confirmed something for me: The flash of heat I’d wondered if I’d misread in Jasper’s eyes earlier?
I hadn’t. It was there now, blazing as he roved his gaze over my lifted leg and to my boots.
I slowly lowered my leg back down, only for us to be plunged back into tense silence. This was torture.
The air between us felt awkward again now.
But I wanted to tell him what that meeting had done for me.
I went back and forth on whether to mention it, but I had to.
People should know if they’ve had a positive influence on your life.
“It was you, Jasper. You were the one who inspired me to jump.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat.
He stayed silent. But I pushed harder when I said, “You inspired an entire generation to ride.”
A flicker of softness took over Jasper’s face, so handsome in that moment it made me breathless. But then, inch by inch, his face frosted over to his usual stoic expression, sucking up any warmth that had built between us. “Well, those days are gone now.”
His voice hardened, and I could tell by his rigid posture that the topic of his riding was off limits.
So I backed off. The massage chair was lulling me to sleep, and I hated the tension that had built back between us, so I said, “But I have to confess that, as much as I admired you, it was Lord Henry who truly stole my heart.”
The minute I mentioned Henry, Jasper’s walls crumbled, and a proud expression engulfed his face. A throaty, raspy laugh slipped from between his full lips. “That sounds about right.” Jasper looked at me, a loving smile on his face and my heart clenched. “Henry is always the one to steal hearts.”
Not just Henry, I wanted to add but thought better of it. He probably knew he could walk into any room and command everyone’s attention.
“He’s beautiful,” I said. “The best horse there’s ever been.”
Jasper nodded, as Jordan Davis next crooned from the speakers. Then, “He let you fuss him,” Jasper said, almost in wonder.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“Henry,” Jasper said, briefly looking at me as he turned the car right.
I realized most of the hour had passed. It had felt like five minutes.
I suddenly wanted the journey to last a lot longer.
“He’s a loving horse, especially for a stallion.
But only to people he lets in.” Jasper cast me a wry grin, as if he knew he could have been talking about himself.
Jasper sighed. “I’ve never seen Henry allow someone to pet him as quickly as he did you.”
Two things destroyed me in that moment: the first was just how soft and tender Jasper’s voice got when talking about his beloved horse. And secondly, that Henry had taken a shine to me.
“Well, that’s just made my life, right there,” I said, and I laughed. Jasper watched me laugh, and he swallowed deeply again. But this time, his eyes heated as they fell on me, and every part of me sparked with life.
I turned my head to the window and fought to keep my heart from bursting from my chest.
Too close. That felt too close.
The car fell into a peaceful silence after that, and I closed my eyes as the perfect dulcet tones of “Neon Moon” came sailing from the radio. I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep until I felt a fingertip lightly tap my shoulder. I blinked, my body snug and warm in the soft seat.
“Hallie,” a gravelly, deep voice said, the most perfect-sounding voice I’d ever heard. “We’re home,” the voice said again. I didn’t want to move. I was comfortable, and I felt safe.
Suddenly, I was weightless. In my subconscious, I heard a door unlocking, and then I was on a soft surface again.
A blanket was laid over me, but I didn’t open my eyes.
My body was fighting to stay asleep, but my brain was screaming at me to wake up.
My body won, shivering as that ghost of a touch slid over my cheek.
“’Night, Angel,” that perfect voice said again, and I caught the sounds of a door locking and a car pulling away over gravel.
Angel . . . angel . . . angel . . . replayed in my head, like a mantra. Then, I’ve never seen Henry allow someone to pet him as quickly as he did you . . .
My eyes suddenly snapped open, and I fought to breathe. I was wide awake now.
He knew Henry let me fuss over him. He knew Henry hadn’t fought me. How did Jasper know that, unless . . . ?
The cameras.
Jasper had clearly played back the CCTV. Goose bumps broke out on my skin again when I thought of why. But now I knew that he’d seen us. He’d seen me help him. Saw us holding hands . . . Seen me sleeping on his chest, his arm wrapped tightly around me.
All my hard work to keep Jasper from my mind immediately crashed into rubble. He’d smiled at me, chosen me to lead his apparel’s campaign.
And he called me angel.