4. Parker
Parker
Dropping Leah off at her cabin was hard to do.
An idiot could see that she doesn’t trust me.
Who could blame her? Twice now, I’ve let on that I know she’s hiding something.
Each time, she gets more panicked. At the end of the day, I can’t let it get to me.
I need to get us free from Henrietta’s clutches.
What Leah does after the fact is none of my concern.
Even if a small part of me secretly hopes she’ll stick around.
Curled up in bed, I pull out my phone and open Grady’s conversation thread.
Me:
Home now, how are you feeling?
Hulk:
Honestly? Not great. Do you think she’ll stick around?
Me:
I sure hope so. She’s got the attitude to make it. I just need to get her in the saddle and see how they move together. I can tell you from watching her dance that she has rhythm. With any luck, Tally does, too.
Hulk:
Yeah. We can only hope. Do you feel bad for using her?
Me:
Are we technically? I feel like I laid it out really well at lunch. It’s a mutually beneficial situation, one I didn’t even have to tell her about. If I never filled her in, she’d probably think I’m just REALLY dedicated to seeing her succeed. Instead, I chose honesty. There’s no harm in that.
Hulk:
I still don’t know how this is going to work, but I appreciate you for looking out for me. It really means a lot, given the circumstances.
Me:
You’re not to blame for the situation you’re in. I wish you’d open up to me some more. But I understand. Just know that I’ll never look at you poorly for being “imperfect” as they’ve led you to believe.
Hulk:
I know, I’m 25 and need to grow up. Heard it plenty.
Me:
You know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry for prodding when I know it’s a sensitive topic. You’re also already stressed about everything. So, forgive me?
Hulk:
I’d never be upset with you for caring.
If only he knew how much I truly care. One day, when we’re not shackled here, I hope he’ll understand. Until then, I’ll bide my time.
Me:
I know, I wish I had a solution now.
Hulk:
I’m not your problem to solve. But thank you for being here anyway. Leah and Tally are good, I can feel it.
Me:
I hope so. See you when you’re done at the stables.
Curiosity prevails. The need to know what I’ll have to work with itches at the back of my mind.
I scroll through every video I can find of our new pink-haired partner and her raven-black steed.
There aren’t many, but the ones I manage to get my hands on show immense amounts of potential.
They move well together. The bond between them is strong.
Anyone with the slightest understanding of dressage could tell that they’re spectacular.
Her positioning is spot-on. They hit the beat with precision.
Tally carries herself like a supermodel.
This might actually work.
I think I’m nervous, that’s the only way I can describe the jitters, how rapidly my blood is rushing through my veins.
Today is the day I start building the foundation for our future.
Grady is tacking up the horses now as the girls change into their riding gear.
It will be interesting to see their personalities clash.
Bridget sucks. Hard.
Leah is not the type who will put up with her shit.
She’s short and feisty, with curves as far as the eye can see.
I’m going to be in trouble if I get too close.
It’s… actually problematic. So, I’ll keep my distance as much as I can manage, but building a good friendship with her can’t hurt.
If she knocks Bridget down a peg or two along the way, I’m here for it.
Grady slides the stable doors open. Naturally, Bridget is the first to ride out, the smug expression on her face failing to conceal her uncertainty.
She’s already leaning too far forward. Sloppy, that’s the best word to describe her form.
Fortunately, her Dutch Warmblood is from championship lines, so he can compensate enough to keep her upright.
Poor Champ—the most pretentious name she could have given him—looks miserable.
He’s a beautiful horse, immaculately groomed—thanks to Grady—the fifty-fifty ratio of white to his dark bay base coat is breathtaking. He wants to move with a naturally fluid gait so badly. Too bad Bridget has apparently never ridden a horse before right now.
A whinny from behind them echoes through the otherwise empty stable.
A strange sense of pride and hope washes over me as Leah and Tally ride out.
Straight in the saddle, Leah’s form is perfect, confidently guiding her partner around the paddock.
Tally’s movement is somehow even more majestic in person, which is nearly criminal.
Grady—standing in the shadows of the stable—has his eyes locked on them. His inability to contain the smile on his face is a great sign. If he’s awestruck, we’re in business.
“Good morning, ladies. Welcome to your first lesson. Today is only an introduction to see where you’re both at in terms of skill level.
This way, I can better cater your individual classes to your personal needs going forward.
” My voice booms through the paddock, demanding everyone’s attention.
“You’ve got a couple of magnificent horses under you.
Let’s do them justice and shape you into the riders they deserve. ”
“I cannot believe Mother has me training alongside some… nobody.” Bridget wrinkles her nose, side-eying Leah, who couldn’t be less affected.
“Leah is special.” Shit. Shocked faces stare back at me. “W-what I mean is she’s a special exception. All of the seasoned trainers refuse to work with her,” I sputter, scrubbing my hand over my face.
Bridget fans herself dramatically, wobbling in her seat. “Wow. Tall, handsome, and charitable.” Pushing her chest out, she doesn’t even try to hide her flirting.
I school my features, hoping to keep the peace between them.
As obnoxious as she is, I can’t lose the paycheck.
“I’m also almost ten years your senior,” I deadpan.
Leah rolls her lips between her teeth to hold in a laugh.
“Now, we’re going to start with walking.
I want to see how you move.” I regret the word choice as soon as they leave my mouth.
The prodigal Hart daughter shoots me another flirty look, and my mouth presses into a flat line as I stare at her.
“Your horse is beautiful,” Leah speaks up, making an attempt at civility.
Bridget’s only response is to turn up her nose.
Leah scowls, nostrils flaring. Her mouth begins to open, but I interject, “Okay, let’s get a move on, steady circles around the paddock.”
Little Miss Money Bags sways back and forth on Champ.
He does his best to make up for her lack of coordination.
Any horse with less natural inclination would likely be brought to a halt, or buck her off out of frustration.
Her legs are too straight, arms far too high.
Imagining how long it’ll take to get her posture and positioning correct is giving me a migraine.
Leah, on the other hand, rides like a born natural—breathtaking in her gear like a ray of sunshine breaking up the dread of this place.
Grady has braided Tally’s mane beautifully.
Her jet-black coat shines under the midday sun.
Moving as if they should be at a Grand Prix event, they’re the embodiment of hope. Mesmerizing, even at a walk.
My thoughts get a bit carried away imagining how Leah will move with a faster gait.
Biting my cheeks, I raise a hand, signaling for them to stop. “That’s all for today. I’ll see each of you for your scheduled classes tomorrow, starting with Bridget. Have a nice day, ladies.” I tip my head and scurry away, putting much-needed distance between us.
Being alone in the same space as either of them is going to be an issue for very different reasons.
I return to my cabin to contemplate our situation, this plan, the year ahead, my life and how I got here.
A bottle of whiskey paired with some classic rock will get my mind right.
It always does. After a few fingers of amber-colored goodness, I decide to visit my new favorite videos…
Watching Leah in action is borderline erotic.
When I hatched this hair-brained idea, I never accounted for her being such a distraction.
No. Don’t do it.
Sighing, I close the video and pull up my contacts. It’s been plenty long enough. Grady should be done with his duties for the day. Time to see what he thinks.
Me:
So?
Hulk:
She’s good.
Such a Grady response. My face hurts from how hard I grin.
Me:
She’s far better than good, even you can see that.
Hulk:
Fine. She definitely has the potential to make it. This idea of yours, this agreement, it’s going to work.
Me:
Well, hello, Captain Positivity. What have you done with my Hulk?
Hulk:
You know what I mean. As long as you can get her qualified, she’ll make it, regardless of the timeline.
Me:
That’s the idea, man. We’re getting out of here when this is all said and done. Just hold out.
Hulk:
I’ve been here “holding out” for years. One more won’t be the death of me.
Me:
It better not. Someone’s gotta put up with me. :)
Hulk:
Lucky me. :)
My chest tightens. I don’t know if he understands how our small interactions like this affect me. I will get us out of here if it’s the last thing I do.
A knock at my door kills my slight buzz. My eyes widen when they land on Leah, standing on my front steps in another adorable little dress. She sucks in a breath at the sight of me.
Now abundantly aware that I’m shirtless, I clear my throat. “H-hi. What brings you here?”
“Oh, I just wanted to ask how you felt about me.” Her gaze drifts down my bare abs and back up to meet mine.
Keep it cool, dick. Don’t even think about it.
“How I… feel about you?” Tilting my head, I almost laugh as she gasps.
“N-no. No. Not like that! Oh gosh. I mean, how do you feel about my riding? Er—the way I ride.” She clamps her mouth shut. “You know what? Just forget I even asked. I’ll leave you alone.” Nodding curtly, she attempts to leave.
When I grab her arm, she turns and stares at my hand.
I give her a soft smile. “You want to come in and have a drink? We can talk about it.”
“Only if you put a shirt on. You know you’re ridiculously hot, right? I don’t want to sleep with you, but if you look like that—” She waves her hand around, gesturing vaguely at me. “—and give me alcohol, I can’t promise anything. Drunk me is a hoe.”
“You’re an open book, aren’t you?” A laugh rushes out of me. “Come on, I’ll put a shirt on just for you.”
She follows me inside, clicking the door closed, and I can’t resist the urge to pick on her. Without a second thought, I gasp and say, “Did I just let a strange woman shut herself in this—suddenly very small feeling—cabin with me?”
Laughing, she playfully shoves my shoulder. “You know who I am now. I had no idea who you were at the time. I also didn’t mean to say that, and you know it!”
“Oh, sorry. I said the inside parts out loud.” I flash her an impish grin, strolling into my bedroom.
When I return—now wearing a plain black shirt—she’s already settled on the couch, glass of whiskey in hand.
Circling the sofa, I sit next to her, pouring myself another drink.
As I kick my feet up on the coffee table, she sighs.
We’re silent for a moment, letting one another enjoy the pressure-free company.
I normally only get this with Grady, having her here to share the peace with is… nicer than I expected.
“Hmm,” I mutter under my breath.
She turns to face me. “What?”
I appreciate the fact that she’s direct and assertive. I’m not used to people giving me their full attention. Yet another trait that makes her perfect… for this agreement, that is.
“Just thinking. You’ve probably still got some questions.
I’m also very aware that our previous conversations were not exactly reassuring to you.
But please believe that I do honestly want to see you succeed.
You deserve it. Clearly, the work you’ve put in came from the heart. You and Tally looked phenomenal today.”
Her eyes light up. A genuine tear streaks down her cheek. Instinctively, I lean in, wiping it away before I can tell myself it’s a horrible idea.
Exhaling a shaky breath, she flashes a warm smile. “You’re probably the first professional to tell me I’m not just lucky. Thank you. I hope I’m able to prove all the skeptics wrong, and help you with a shining endorsement for your training abilities.”
“Well, Hulk—er Grady is convinced you’re gonna make it.”
“I should probably get his number from you. So I can keep in touch. About Tally, that is.”
“Of course. Let me forward it to you.” I fire off a quick heads-up message to Grady first so he’s not too upset when she inevitably messages him.
We talk technique and structure for a while.
The entire time, I’m entranced by her knowledge of the sport and the passion that coats every word.
Nobody else has ever sat here and rambled with me about things like this.
She’s emanating warmth, cheeks rosy from the alcohol.
I itch with the urge to pull her against me, feel how her body melds with mine.
But I can’t.
Falling for her would complicate everything. So I guess being a friend isn’t so bad…