27. Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
Maddox
Sugarfoot is saddled and ready when I hear footsteps coming up behind me. Clyde limps inside, a cigar dangling from his mouth.
“It’s barely past noon, Clyde.” I chuckle.
“Well son, when you hit seventy years old, you can do whatever the hell you want to,” he grumbles.
He blows a puff of smoke before leaning up against Buster’s stall. Cooper’s horse. “You taking out Sugar?”
“Yeah. Me and Ivy,” I say as I untie her from the gate.
“Ivy, huh?” He sucks on the stick of tobacco, his eyes squinting. “So, I guess you’re finally doing something about that?”
I lift a brow. “About what?”
“You’re a straight shooter, Maddox.” He blows another puff of smoke. “I’ve seen how you look at her.”
Clyde and his fucking observation skills.
“Yeah? Well maybe you should be working instead of watching me old man,” I quip.
He laughs, deep and hoarse from years of smoking. “You’re gone for her.” He shakes his head, but his tone turns serious. “It’s ok to do things for yourself sometimes, son. We both know your brother wasn’t man enough to deserve her.”
Hell, I don’t deserve her either.
“But that boy never loved her.” He keeps talking. “Not like you do.”
I lead Sugarfoot down the alley way, walking past him in silence, not even sure how to respond.
He slaps a hand on my shoulder. “You deserve to be happy. Your pops would want that.”
With a tight dip of my chin, I leave the barn. I spot Ivy walking down the porch steps, and I swear she just gets more beautiful every time I see her. When she approaches, she gives me a timid smile, her hands shoving into the back pockets of her jeans.
“You ready?” I ask.
She blows out a breath. “It’s not like I have a choice, do I?”
“Put your boot in the stirrup.” I’ve already repeated myself twice.
Ivy stands next to Sugarfoot, her hands clenched at her sides.
“I can’t.” Her voice is strained and her eyes pinched. “I’m not ready, Maddox.”
“You are ready.” I step over to her, running my hand up her back. “Now reach up and grab that saddle horn.”
“I ca..” she starts, but I slide up farther to grip the nape of her neck. “That’s the last time you say I can’t.”
I apply just enough pressure that her lip's part and I smile when her eyes flutter closed. We’ve been out here for two hours as she reacquaints herself with Sugarfoot. She's walked her and loped her in a circle. Pretty much everything that works up to this. To her facing her fear and putting that shit to rest. She loved it too much to never experience it again.
Something I can relate to.
“Now.” I release her neck. “Get your ass on this horse.”
She glares, her eyes shooting daggers at me as she dramatically slaps a hand on the saddle horn. “Happy?” She mutters.
“Not yet. Not until you’re sitting pretty, darlin.” I tap the seat of the saddle.
Gripping the horn, she concentrates on a deep breath, closing her eyes as she lets it out. Her left boot lifts to land in the stirrup, and she pauses when it’s securely in place. “I’m scared.”
I edge closer. Not close enough to interfere but close enough for her to feel safe.
“I know. But I’m right here. I won’t let you get hurt.”
“Gee, where have I heard that before?” She mocks. “You said that before, right? Or maybe I’m just confused,” she scoffs.
“Ivy,” I deadpan.
“Get back, Maddox.” She grits her teeth.
With a tug from her arms and a swing of her leg, she catapults up to straddle the saddle, her body settling over Sugarfoot’s back.
She’s stiff, her thighs squeezing, showing off her discomfort. Sugarfoot shifts, so I place one hand on the bridle and one on Ivy’s thigh.
“Woah,” I say, stilling her movements.
Ivy tenses beneath my hand and I smooth my palm up her thigh. “Relax. She can feel how tense you are.”
She closes her eyes, hands gripping the saddle horn as she mutters something under her breath.
“Good girl.” I let loose of the bridle, letting my hand drift over Sugarfoot’s neck while my eyes remain on Ivy.
Her eyes pop open and I can see her throat bob as she swallows at my words.
“We’re gonna go slow, ok?” I squeeze her leg.
She nods. “Just give me a sec.”
I let her take a few deep breaths before I gather the reins in my hand and step back.
“Ok.” She relaxes her shoulders. “I’m ready.”
I nod, and wade toward the pasture. “Wait,” she calls. “Where’s your horse? I thought we were riding.”
I can see the slight panic in her eyes at the thought of me leaving.
“We are.” I motion. “I’ll be right here.”
She frowns. “You’re going to lead me? on foot?”
“Yes, Goldie. Today is about building trust remember?”
Her pink tongue slides out to wet her lips as she blinks. “Ok.”
I smooch Sugarfoot along, following the path to the pasture that is free of ashes. The one that holds her flowers.
“Tell me about Georgia,” I say, opening the gate.
“It’s good,” she says as the horse glides through the opening.
“Just good?” I shut the gate behind me, then continue my quest. “Come on. You liked it enough to stay for four years.”
I glance back at her, and she clears her throat. “College was alright. I didn’t do much but study and work. I waitressed at a local grill for the first couple of years.”
“No partying?” I ask.
“You know I’m not the party girl type, Maddox,” she deadpans.
I knew she wasn’t, but I felt the need to confirm. To know she didn’t leave here and completely leave behind the girl she was. The girl I knew.
“Boyfriends?” I ask the question cooly, but my insides are anything but.
“Some dates,” she answers. “Nothing too serious.”
Dates. Multiple. Why does that thought make me want to smash something?
We’ve made it across the pasture, just far enough to see the place I’m headed to in the distance.
“I work at a flower shop,” she offers quietly.
“Yeah?” I glance over my shoulder.
“Yeah.” A faint smile hits her lips. “I do the admin side. My friend Merit owns the shop. She handles the flowers, but I get to help and it…” she trails off.
“It what?” I ask, as I let go of the reins.
“It made me feel like I had a little bit of home with me.”
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I continue walking as Sugarfoot follows. Ivy doesn’t even realize I’ve let go. Her gaze is fixated across the miles of open acreage surrounding us.
“Did you ever miss…” I pause. Me? Did you ever miss me? I want to ask, but I don’t. “Miss this,” I finish.
I stop just at the edge of the field that leads to her favorite place. The ridge. When I look up to meet her eyes, they’re glistening with moisture.
“I’m riding,” she says quietly.
“You are.” I keep my hands in my pockets and my feet planted.
A smile graces those perfect lips as she looks at me, then over at the ridge. “I did miss it.” She faces me again. “I missed this.”