Chapter 35 Hattie
HATTIE
Granger rolls his shoulders back and raises his brows at Heston. I smile when his big, grumpy guy persona slips with a shrug and an encouraging nod.
In the past, when our conversations turned to the topic of his rodeo days, Heston would shut down immediately.
Now, not only is he spending a good chunk of his time mentoring Granger—without a gun held to his head, I might add—but the effect it’s having on him is clearly visible.
Sheer fulfillment is radiating from him, and he couldn’t hide how passionate he is about the sport if he tried. Not from me, anyway.
His gaze flickers to mine for a moment before he turns back to Granger, speaking low enough that I can barely hear him from this far away.
My eyes lower to his chest as it rises and falls in a steady rhythm with his voice.
One of his knees is relaxed and bent slightly, and I make the mistake of letting my focus drift to the hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans. Wide wrist. Thick, corded veins.
I used to stare at his hands a lot, just waiting to catch them shaking or hesitating. They never do, and it’s pathetic how many times I’ve drooled over their predictable steadiness. I want them all over me. Especially after last night.
Eventually, he makes his way over to me and turns to lean his back against the fence. I climb up so that I can sit and watch from the top rail. Without looking away from the kid, he leans his elbows back on the railing and wraps his hand around my calf muscle.
Granger takes his horse on a slow lap around the arena. With my hands gripping the rail on either side of my hips, I lean forward slightly and focus on the mare’s feet and legs. Each of her long strides are as strong and beautiful as they’ve ever been.
I hold my breath, watching in silence as he backs into the box facing the jumping dummy that’s in the center of the arena.
“No jump,” Heston calls out, voice deep and confident. “Just let her get some take-off reps. Lean out when you’re supposed to, but stay on her.”
“Really?” I mumble. “You know you’ll have to let him go through the motions for real, right?
“Not right now,” he replies flatly. “Beautiful women distract him too much.”
I roll my lips into my mouth to hide a giddy smile.
The horse’s ears are pricked forward in anticipation.
Granger loosens his pull on the reins and shifts his weight forward.
The change in position was all she needed to bolt.
In a flash, she lowers her head and pushes off her hind legs, exploding out of the box.
Within three seconds, she’s at full speed and launching past the dummy.
My smile is automatic. She’s nothing short of a masterpiece on the run.
Speed is essential in this type of event, but it means nothing if the guy in the saddle can’t keep up and hit his mark. The wheels in my head are spinning with comments, and I cup my hands over my mouth while Granger eases Dr. Mike to a slower pace on the other end of the arena.
“Drop your weight earlier, next time,” I call out just as Heston shouts, “Sit back sooner.”
For a split second, I forget there was ever a before and after. There’s only now—life on the same page as Heston Landry. I replay our overlapping voices in my head, and it lights fireworks in my chest.
I’m fully oblivious to anything happening in the arena at this point, instead turning my head to look down at him.
I’ve kissed that tiny scar near his eyebrow. I’ve tucked my head in the hollow between his jaw and collarbone. And how many times had I felt the contentment of working alongside him like this? Too many.
Yet still, not enough.
It’ll never be enough, and that’s how I know I’m not just looking at the man I fell hard for. I’m looking at my forever.
My conversation with the girls this morning drifts to the forefront of my mind.
The conflicting thought snaps me out of my dream state, and I place one hand on his shoulder while holding the other one out in front of me.
Heston turns right away to face me. His hands bracket my hips as he helps me down.
I take his hand. He squeezes my palm, and I quickly look over to Granger. “Good work, kid. Keep it up!” I call out before leading Heston over to the gate. He follows me through and then closes it with a confused look. “I’m stealing your coach for a bit, k?”
Granger gives me a thumbs up, and I continue walking with Heston close behind. The stables are close, so I lead us into the open alleyway in the center of the barn.
Bob blows air out of his nose and sticks his head over the gate right away. I drop Heston’s hand to flatten a palm on the horse’s cheek and smooth out the shock of mane falling between his eyes.
“If you weren’t so big, you’d curl up in my lap, wouldn’t you, boy?” I laugh as he snorts more air out of his nose and nudges my arm.
“Spoiled.”
I peek at Heston over my shoulder with pursed lips. He’s got his hands in his pockets, and he’s shaking his head at his horse.
“And so would you,” I point out.
He thinks about it for a moment, then chuckles. “Fair enough.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s been doing that a lot since I found it before coming out here, but I’ve ignored it until now. With a sigh, I pull it out of my pocket to check the unread notifications.
Marcus
Where have you been?
I’m headed to the house. Dinner meeting with your Dad. Come join us.
Your Dad said he hadn’t seen or heard from you. Are you alive?
All of your house lights are off, and no one’s home. But your truck is there so what the hell is going on
Call me back
I can see your location, you know. I find it very interesting that you’ve been AWOL this weekend and you just so happen to be at your ex’s
Answer the phone Hattie. I’m at the gate.
“Wonderful,” I say sarcastically.
Heston leans over me to look at my phone. “What is it?”
I hand it to him so that he can read over the text thread. I can tell he’s trying not to sneer as his eyes roam over the screen. He turns it toward me when the incoming call from Marcus comes through. I press the red button.
“Is this guy a stalker?” Heston asks. His brows are pulled low and knitted together while he hardens his jaw.
“Something like that.”
He wraps his free hand over the side of my neck and looks over my face meticulously. “Are you alright?”
I nod and inhale through my nose. “I wanted to talk to you about this sooner. But we already had so much to work out ourselves, and I thought I could take care of it on my own without making you worry. I—I’m sorry for not telling you before now.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he reassures me firmly. His eyes flick over my head for a moment before he glances back down at me again. “Feels like now is a good time to explain what’s going on, though.”
“Marcus has his claws in my dad’s finances, and I had no idea he had a shady past or that he had bad intentions when we were,” I hesitate, because the words feel sour on my tongue, “umm, involved. He wouldn’t take no for an answer when I broke up with him because I had a gut feeling I was making a mistake and that I didn’t love him.
He’s been insufferable ever since, and he’s got it stuck in his head that we’re still getting hitched. ”
Heston blinks, but I catch the deranged flicker of fury in his eyes. His chest expands with two big, slow breaths, and it’s a wonder his teeth don’t turn to dust from the way he’s clenching down on them right now.
“There’s more to it,” I admit apologetically. “I just didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. The whole thing has been an awful thorn in my side, and I’ve been scared that my dad would suffer the consequences if I made the wrong move in handling it.”
“You don’t have to know what to do. We’ll figure this out together.”
My eyes gloss over. “You’re not mad?”
“Oh, I’m fucking mad.” A lump forms in my throat until he steps forward and wraps his strong arms around me. “But not at you.” He pulls away enough to look me in the eyes again. “Was he hurting you?”
I shake my head. “No. Not like that, he just . . . got ugly with some threats that really scared me,” I explain. “That’s why I mentioned before that this was complicated.”
My phone rings as Marcus calls again.
“If he’s here at the gate, then this ends today.” Heston hands me my phone and takes a small step back. His expression is brimming with rage, but he keeps his voice as even as he can. “Let him in.”
“Let him in?”
He nods curtly and pulls out his own phone, taps a few times, then lifts it to his ear. I part my lips when I hear Tripp’s vibrant greeting on the other end of the call. Heston raises his brows and points toward my phone.
“Let him in, Hattie.”
Without questioning him again, I answer Marcus’s third call. “Hello?”
“Wow,” Marcus answers. “So, you’re not buried behind a shed, then. Good to fucking know. Now, what’s the code to this gate?”
Heston is speaking low into his phone and paces to the other end of the barn. I’m only panicking a little bit that he’s lining up an ambush with his stupidly loyal friends, and I’ll have to visit him in jail for the next thirty years.
“I’m fine,” I say. “You’re crossing the line this time, Marcus. You shouldn’t be here.”
He laughs. “Oh no, sweetheart. I’m coming in there to get you. Tell me the code. Now.”
“Can I help you?” I hear Gage’s voice, albeit distantly, come in through the speaker at the gate.
“Yeah, hi,” Marcus answers with the most charming tone he can muster. “I’m just here to pick up Hattie. She doesn’t have her vehicle and needs to get home tonight. She’s expecting me.”
“Who are you?” Gage asks.
“Sorry, I must have forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Marcus. I’m her fiancé.”
My eyes screw shut, and I contemplate how ugly this will be.
I royally screwed up, thinking I had more time to explain the situation to Heston.
But everything about this weekend, apart from the scare with Lucky, has been so incredible.
I couldn’t stand the thought of tarnishing it by handing him this bombshell.
I just want Marcus to leave my family and me alone. This has got to end, and if I haven’t been able to convince him to kick rocks, maybe a confrontation with Heston and a few of his buddies will shake some sense into him. I’m going to have to let him in.
“Shit,” I whisper. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Gage’s voice comes through the speaker again. “Cool. Nice to meet you, dude. Get fucking lost.”
“Marcus,” I hiss. “Just drive in and stay inside your car. Don’t get out, I’ll come to you. The code is 9263.”
I hang up, pocket my phone, and press the heels of my palms into my eyes.