Chapter Eight
Hallie
I rubbed my chest again, then shoveled another scoop of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food into my mouth.
It felt like I’d been punched. In a way I had, but with Jasper’s words instead of fists. His venomous, nasty words. I followed the ice cream with a sip of rosé and said, “My leg wasn’t too far forward. I saw the photo Steve took. My position was perfect.”
“It was,” Sage said, holding up her middle finger.
“Fuck him and his sexy eyes.” I turned my head to Sage.
She held up her hands in surrender. “He’s a douchebag for speaking to you like that, Hals, but he’s still a hot douchebag.
” I’d told Sage all about my interactions with Jasper.
I could never keep anything from her for long.
In true Sage fashion, she had lapped up every detail with vigor, whooping and hollering with every spilled word.
I sighed, and my head fell back against the couch. “He was today, and he made me feel about an inch tall in front of everyone in the arena.” I cast my eyes out the window, at the fields that led to the main house. “But I don’t think he is usually.” I curled onto the couch and faced Sage.
“Last night in the car, he was stiff and unapproachable, until he wasn’t.
” I blew out a frustrated raspberry, and Sage laughed.
“He swings back and forth so much I have whiplash.” It was true.
Last night, I thought we’d finally gotten somewhere.
He’d mellowed toward me. Today . . . Shit, that was rough.
“He’s had a tough couple of years,” Sage said. “Maybe that’s why he’s gone from Smiley to Moody Jasper.”
I glanced down at my outfit. I was still dressed in the turquoise set from the shoot.
The one he’d picked out especially for me.
I didn’t understand the man. And despite the fact I should keep the hell away from him and his epic mood swings, him pushing me away made me want to know him more.
I wanted to find out where the Jasper of old had gone.
I was a glutton for punishment. But I didn’t want him to be sad, and some kind of Spidey sense within me told me he was. That the way he was acting toward me was a front, a ruse. Perhaps maybe a shield. A way to keep anyone from getting too close.
“You need to just focus on the riding, Hals. It’s what we’re here to do. No distractions,” Sage said with a firm nod. She shoved a big spoon of ice cream in her mouth to cement her point.
I raised an eyebrow at Sage. “What?” she said at my knowing expression.
“No distractions?” I questioned.
Sage pointed her spoon at me like a weapon. “Don’t you dare. Do not even dare mention that heathen in my presence.” For the first time since my reprimand this afternoon, I felt a spark of humor ignite inside of me.
I held up my hands in surrender this time. “I’m shutting up,” I said, smugly. But Sage watched me with narrowed eyes.
Turning on the TV, Sage snuggled beside me and said, “Now, put something on with hot, muscled men. I’ve fed my stomach with sugar and now need some for my eyes and spank bank later.”
“Thanks for that visual, Sage,” I said, dryly.
“You’re welcome, sweetie,” she said, and patted my hand.
We settled on Lord of the Rings because, well, Aragorn, but I could barely focus on the film.
Instead, I racked my brain about what had happened between last night and today to make Jasper turn so cold.
At the arena, he was wicked. It took every ounce of self-restraint I had not to dismount and slap him across his beautifully stubbled cheek.
But I kept my shit together and did my job, despite my clawing need to argue back.
It wasn’t easy for me to keep my mouth shut, but I’d endured it today.
Jasper seemed off kilter, shaken somehow.
He reminded me of how Canyon spoke of troubled or hurt horses. They seemed violent and aggressive on the surface, but it was pure fear driving them. It just took someone understanding for their true selves to shine through. I wondered whether Jasper Knighton was the same.
Still, his words today hurt.
I was currently in Sage’s cottage, but her couch was the same as mine. I closed my eyes and remembered when Jasper had carried me back to my cottage from his car and laid me on the couch.
Night, Angel.
He’d called me angel. I was sure of it. And this time he hadn’t been drunk off whiskey.
No, he’d been stone-cold sober and ran his fingers down my face and called me fucking angel.
I may have been half asleep, but I was 100 percent sure of those things.
And suddenly, today I couldn’t ride? My jumping was subpar? My leg position was wrong?
They weren’t. I wasn’t being cocky, but I had worked damn hard over the years to ensure I was the best, and Jasper Knighton in a savage mood was not going to derail me.
The longer I sat watching elves, hobbits, and men fight to save Middle Earth, the more the anger in me grew and grew until I needed to get up and move.
I shifted and Sage flopped to the couch, passed out from her sugar crash, no doubt. I covered her with a knitted throw from the back of the couch and kissed her good night on the cheek.
Locking Sage’s door, I grabbed my equirobe from my cottage’s entranceway and made my way across the fields to the barn, checking my pockets to make sure I had some Polos for Huxley. The mints were his favorite treat, and after the way we’d both been unfairly spoken to today, he deserved them.
Ten minutes later, I entered the barn and made a beeline for Huxley. My stallion was busy eating his hay but stopped when he saw me approaching with his snack.
I laid my hand flat and laughed as Huxley practically sucked up the mint like a vacuum.
He crunched it quickly and immediately nudged my arm to give him more.
I kissed his blaze and tickled his cheek.
“You’re a sweetheart, baby,” I said, and gave him a cuddle, slipping him one more Polo for good measure.
I moved to Fefe next, who just scowled at me from the back of her stall.
I held out my hand, showing her the mint.
“Come on, princess. It’s for you.” She looked at me as though I was a lowly peasant and didn’t deserve any of her time.
Rolling my eyes at her attitude, I dropped the mint to the ground in her stall. “I’ll leave it there for you, Moody.”
I walked away and smiled when I heard her munching it up. Sage had a real sassy pants there.
I found myself at the closed-off private Knighton part of the barn. I now knew I shouldn’t have been there. Jasper had told me so. But after today’s tongue lashing, fuck Jasper.
Undoing the bolt, I threw back the metal handle and slid the door open. Barnaby and Sebastian immediately came into view. I gave them each a Polo, then moved to Lady Aurelia. I slipped her a Polo too, and she was kind and appreciative, unlike Fefe.
I turned toward Lord Henry to give my favorite horse some love and treats, only to find his stall empty. My stomach fell and I rushed over to check he wasn’t lying on the floor with colic or worse.
My heart slammed in my chest, seeing it empty, and I began to panic. It was one in the freakin’ morning. Where could he be? I searched all over the barn, and with every empty stall and corner, true panic built within me.
Has someone stolen him? That dark thought had me running toward the exit, but I came up short when my brain registered the thudding sound of hooves.
The Knightons had a private indoor arena that was solely for their use, and it was attached to this section of the barn.
I moved over to the closed doors and heard the unmistakable thuds of a horse in motion.
There was a pedestrian door built into the main barn door, and as quietly as I could, I turned the knob and opened it. I snuck inside, only for my mouth to drop open at what I found.
A flash of white passed by me, and before my very eyes, Lord Henry was sailing over jumps.
Not just jumps, but a tricky and challenging course that looked like it had been created by the best course designer on the tour.
The fences had to be at least 160 cm in height, bigger than the standard Grand Prix course.
Henry sailed over them like they were only a foot tall.
But that’s not what had me so enraptured.
No, that honor belonged to Jasper, who was jumping his stallion with as much proficiency and beauty as he had a year ago when he was still on the circuit.
As he turned Henry to take another fence, the joy on Jasper’s face made me breathless.
This was Jasper Knighton. This was the man I had met all those years ago.
This moment was an echo to the past. I was once again the inexperienced twelve-year-old cowgirl, watching a man take flight on an almost mythically talented horse.
The sight brought tears to my eyes.
Jasper hadn’t given up like he’d led everyone to believe.
I’d assumed that Lord Henry was ridden by Jasper’s groom, Benjamin, and that was why he was still so fit and muscular. But Jasper clearly rode him when no one was around, in secret, but with as much talent—if not more—than before.
As they took the final spread fence, I audibly gasped as Henry cleared it with room to spare—a perfectly clear round.
But in the quiet arena, that gasp gave me away.
Jasper pulled Henry to a halt and whipped his head in my direction.
Jasper was breathing hard, well exercised from the course. Henry had barely broken a sweat.
The happiness I’d seen on Jasper’s face evaporated into a hard scowl under the brim of his helmet.
He was dressed in all black, the Knighton Equestrian base layer and breeches fitting him like a second skin.
Hell, his body was perfection. He was tall and toned and muscled, and perched on Henry, he commanded such power it was aphrodisiacal to simply watch.