Chapter 25
Victoria
“I’ll be back with the horses.” Summer says. Then she saunters over to Cal, pulls back her elbow, and punches him in the upper arm. “Know-it-all! Of course she can ride!”
Bless Summer for believing me, but now I’ll have to find a time to apologize for deceiving her. Ugh.
Cal’s hand flies to the spot where Summer punched him. “You got a permit for that concealed weapon?”
“Fifteen years of putting in fence posts will do that to a girl.” She winks at me before she turns for the barn. Yet again, I admire her. She’s proud of her physical strength, proud that she’s been digging holes for fifteen years. Summer and I are as opposite as women can be, but in many ways, I wish I was more like her.
She’s strong enough to stand her ground with Cal.
Jasmine is looking up at me. I smile down at her, but all the while, I feel my throat close up. I think I have stage fright. Or at least what I imagine stage fright feels like, since I was never on stage. For the plays at my boarding school, I always volunteered for set design or lights before anyone could pick me for a role.
But now I’m center stage in a farce of my own making. I just said I can ride a horse, so I guess I better figure it out. In a hurry.
“Can you jump?”
Jasmine’s question is so simple, yet it sends fear slicing through me.
“Well sure,” I say, keeping a smile plastered on my face. “I can ride all kinds of ways. I can do the jump thing and the lunge-y thing and anything with a horse, really, I can do those.”
I’m not even sure that statement was English.
Cal chuckles behind me, and I turn to see him enjoying himself. He throws me a sexy half-smile, nearly blinding me. “Anything with a horse you can do those? Be careful, business lady. I might test you on that boast.”
“Fine. But if it neighs, I’m an expert.” What am I doing? I’m doubling down for some reason, digging my grave as expertly as Summer digs her fence posts.
Just then, Summer returns with a huge black-and-white beast of a horse that looks like it would eat me if I glanced at it from the wrong angle. She hands the reins to Cal. “What’s going on here?” She looks from me to Cal and back again. “Are you two… flirting ?”
“No, we’re not, Summer.” Cal’s voice drops to a lower register, which I didn’t even think was possible.
“Good thing,” Summer says, resting her fists on her hips. “Because if that’s flirting, you two are really, really bad at it. Flirting is supposed to be, you know…” She looks down at Jasmine, who is hanging on her every word. “A prelude to something more.”
“What’s a pray lord?” Jasmine asks.
“Since when do you use that word?” Cal’s trying to change the subject.
“Hey, I get a day off every week, and I like to spend it on self-improvement.”
Summer’s walkie-talkie crackles. She removes it from her belt and pushes a button. “Yes, my liege?”
“We got a calf down.” It sounds like Special K. “Where are you?”
“At the barn with Cal, Pinkie, and Victoria.”
“You mean the skinny chick in too much makeup? Well, stop. I need you up on Glasgow Ridge.”
It’s more words than I’ve ever heard Cal’s baby brother string together. Unfortunately, they aren’t exactly flattering.
“Be right there.” Summer clips the walkie-talkie back on her belt and turns to Jasmine. “Sorry, kid. We’ll go for a ride another time.” She looks at me. “Ignore him. Women make him uncomfortable.”
Just then, a ranch hand arrives at Summer’s side with a second horse, an only slightly smaller light-colored horse with a white tail. She accepts the reins and immediately passes the leather strips to me. I have no idea how to hold them. “This is my horse, Trixie,” she says. “Since I gotta go, you can ride her. She’s a lot of fun.”
Summer hops onto one of the ranch’s ATVs and drives off, kicking up dust and dirt.
Jasmine grabs my free hand and gives it a tug. “I don’t think you’re skinny,” she assures me. “You have big boobs, that’s all. But they’re not too big for you to jump on Trixie, because she’s a very sprightly horse. She jumps real high.”
Ah. So this is how I die. Me and my big boobs soaring really high on Summer’s spritely horse, right before I plummet to the ground and break my neck.
“Jasmine!” It’s Finn walking out to the barn. “Come on, kid! We’ve got the book fair this afternoon. Let’s hit the road.”
“But I was going to go riding with Victoria!” Jasmine balls up her fists and pounds her Barbie cowboy boot into the dirt.
“Another time. And we’ll see Victoria later. C’mon, let’s get you changed. You want your Snow White dress?”
Jasmine’s face turns red, and she eyes me with a heart-wrenching look of humiliation. “Dad,” she hisses, looking his way again. “I’m eight years old. I’m not a baby anymore.”
Finn’s mouth falls open and he stops short. It takes him a moment to process that comment. He flashes a WTF? glance at Cal before he rebounds. “Of course, Miss MacLaine. May I have the pleasure of your company at the book fair?”
Finn bows formally and then extends his arm for her. Jasmine sighs and says, “I guess,” then runs to him. We watch them head off down the ranch road.
“Being a single dad is rough,” Cal says. “But man, he tries hard. He can sing the entire Frozen soundtrack. He’s got a closet full of princess dresses, and he’s hosted more tea parties than the Queen of England.”
I nod, thinking that Jasmine may be about to step into that awkward no man’s land between little girl and pre-teen. It’s probably going to be difficult for Finn.
“Summer told me about Jasmine’s mother.”
Cal doesn’t respond. Maybe it’s a topic that’s too personal, so I don’t push it. “Too bad our riding plans are shot. Should we walk the horses back? ”
“Nice try,” Cal says. “We’re going riding. But first, let’s get you some boots.” He loops his horse’s reins over a fence railing and removes mine from my hands, throwing them over, too.
“Boots?”
“Summer’s got extras in the barn.”
“I can’t borrow her things without permission.”
“She won’t mind. Half of her stuff comes from thrift stores, and she’s not exactly a diva.”
“But…” I’m running out of excuses. There’s no way I can do this. I can barely ride a bike, and that includes the stationary ones from my gym’s spin class.
He pulls me toward him and clutches my shoulders. He’s looking down at me, and his smirk disappears. “You’re not getting out of this.”
His voice is smooth and deep. I could bathe in that voice, and though I don’t like the words he’s saying, I don’t mind if he keeps speaking.
“You’re used to talking your way out of things, I can tell. But you’re going riding with me. I’m dying to see all those special abilities you have.”
This is it, the moment where I must admit that I exaggerated my horseback riding talents. I did try to learn, once. My father insisted that I take lessons when I was five because it would leave many years of training to perfect my skills. I think he pictured his daughter as an Olympic equestrian.
Unfortunately, I was too scared to sit on a horse when it was standing completely still, let alone moving. I stayed back to feed the horses apples and carrots from our kitchen while the other students went riding .
At the end of the summer, my father discovered my deception and unleashed an angry lecture on me about wasting time, telling lies, and how I had no respect for money. Of course I didn’t. I was a kindergartener.
The real lesson that summer was that I needed to avoid my father’s wrath in the future, no matter what it took.
I don’t tell Cal I’m a liar. He already thinks I’m a useless city girl whose only goal is to steal his family’s land. Besides, I’m not five anymore. I’ll just focus and remember to breathe. How hard can it be to stay on while a well-trained horse goes trotting around?
Cal drags me to the barn. I look around at a shiny-new, sparkling-clean, state-of-the-art building that smells of sweet hay and polished leather. I’ve seen pictures of the high-end barns that house million-dollar Kentucky thoroughbreds, and the main barn at Yosemite Ranch is comparable. Some of the stalls house horses, and one in particular eyes me with suspicion, as if I’m thinking of moving in on her luxury territory.
“Don’t you have work to do?” I ask Cal, trying one last time to avoid the inevitable. “I know I’ve got a lot more documents to study.”
“Liar.”
How true.
“Follow me,” Cal says. He takes me into what looks like a studio apartment. He points to a closet full of clothes. “Just pick anything—it’s not like this is a fashion show.” He closes the door.
I grab a flannel shirt—because that seems to be the uniform around here—and a pair of very lived-in jeans along with a belt, cowboy hat, and thick socks. I find a pair of boots that will fit, cursing Summer for being a size seven, just like me. I remove my normal clothes, put everything on, and look at myself in the full-length mirror.
If I didn’t know better, I’d assume the woman looking back at me grew up on a ranch. I grab a jean jacket from a hook near the door, just to add the finishing touch.
Cal’s outside the barn, waiting with the two horses. From this angle, I can see how big those creatures are. I gulp.
I pet Summer’s horse, Trixie. I keep petting it. If I keep petting it, maybe Cal will forget that I’m supposed to ride it. “It’s a pretty blonde one,” I say.
Cal chuckles. “She’s what’s called a Palomino. Leroy is a Paint. And they’re both Quarter Horses. Saddle up.”
This is it. I’ve backed myself into a corner. I put my foot in a stirrup and attempt to heave myself up. It’s a steep climb, and I hop on my other leg, trying to help myself, but I’m getting nowhere.
Suddenly, Cal grabs onto my middle. At first I think he’s going to lift me onto the horse, but he lifts me up in the air and back down onto the ground, away from the horse.
“Wrong side,” he mumbles.
“There’s a right side?”
“Yes. The left side is the right side. You mount the horse on the left side.”
I shrug. “I was taught how to ride by an Englishman. They mount their horses on the other side, just like they drive on the opposite side of the road.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “That’s incorrect.”
“Why, I never ,” I say, clutching at my chest .
“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”
“I do know how to ride a horse. It’s just been a very long time.” A long time since I fed them the contents from our crisper drawer, anyway.
He sighs. “Today is your first refresher lesson, then. I’ll be right next to you. No worries.”
“I don’t believe you,” I tell him. But I do. I’ve seen him in action. He’s John Wayne MacLaine, a born protector. Of his family. His land. His country. And now, me.
He walks me around to the other side of the horse and spins me, his hands on my waist. For a split second, I think he’s going to kiss me. Instead, he lifts me up and tells me to swing my leg over the saddle. Then he puts my feet in the stirrups, adjusts the leather straps, and then adjusts whatever belt goes under the horse’s body. Finally, he places both my hands on the saddle horn and squeezes them until I grip the horn.
“Just hold on and don’t tense up. Keep your heels down. Let your body move with the horse,” he says. “Sit tall and balanced, picturing a weighted string dropped down from your ear to your shoulder, to your hip, to your heel. Settle into the saddle. I’ll do the rest. We’re going to move slowly.”
Cal’s grumpy personality has vanished. I notice that around the horses, and now that he’s aware that he’s responsible for this idiot’s safety, he’s gentle and calm. No negative energy. A leader.
He slips the reins over the horse’s head and carries them as he moves to the black horse. After mounting, he says, “Trixie is accustomed to Leroy, and she’ll follow. She’ll stay a bit behind us, to the side.” With some kind of invisible signal, Cal’s horse begins to walk and mine follows, just as Cal predicted. I watch him use one hand for his reins and the other to hold Trixie’s.
The Palomino is tall, and it’s not lost on me that there’s a great deal of empty space between me and the ground. Falling would absolutely hurt. But so far, I haven’t fallen. My knees naturally grip onto the horse, and my hands squeeze the saddle horn.
“Relax a bit, Victoria,” Cal says. “If your legs are pressed into her sides when Trixie is already moving forward, she’ll think you want her to speed up.”
“But I don’t!”
“Exactly. So sink deep into the saddle, relax your arms, and just picture yourself as being a part of Trixie.”
“Okay.” I’m trying not to hyperventilate.
“You’re doing great.” Cal guides us away from the houses and the barn, into a meadow, and west toward the mountains.
About fifteen minutes later, I feel like I’m getting the general idea. I think Trixie likes it when I’m relaxed. I’m proud of myself and somewhat surprised that I haven’t fallen. Maybe I was right—how hard can it be?
“Look,” I whisper. “I’m doing it.”
Cal glances back at me and nods. “You’re a born horsewoman,” he says.
I don’t detect any sarcasm. Maybe he’s just being kind. “Let’s gallop!” I say.
“Not this time,” he says with a laugh.
“Is there anything between this slow thing we’re doing and a gallop?”
“Yes. There’s a lope and a canter. But we’ll save those for later too. ”
So we keep riding along like tortoises, which allows me to just enjoy the beauty around me. San Diego is a gorgeous location, but the beauty at Yosemite Ranch is a whole different animal. It’s majestic. Wild. Here we are in a soft meadow filled with flowers when around us are snow-capped mountains, red-rocked mesas, lakes, and rivers.
I scan the view in every direction, savoring it. Maybe if I commit it to memory, I’ll be able to recall the details when I’m gone.
“You okay, Victoria?”
“Oh, absolutely. Just in awe.”
“I never get tired of it. Never will.”
Cal must have carried out some other invisible command because Trixie pulls up alongside him. I look over to see him smile. It melts me. I immediately think I need to cover my reaction with conversation.
“You know,” I say. “At first I wondered why you left your Navy career for the ranch. Now I wonder, how did you ever leave in the first place?”
He seems to appreciate the question, and I wonder if it’s because he’s proud of his answer.
“A man needs adventure, challenge.” Cal pauses, as if he’s on the edge of sharing something with me, something that matters to him so much that he needs to be careful. “And since I grew up in this thousand-square-mile land of untamed adventure, I knew I would need something way bigger and totally different in order to find that challenge.”
He tips his head and shares a thoughtful smile. “Plus, there’s the patriot part. I was born into privilege, where we worked hard but were incredibly fortunate to be surrounded by such beauty and abundance. I wanted to give back. Do something to strengthen our nation. I think all of us felt the same.”
His answer surprises me. He really does sound more like John Wayne than a man of his time. I feel proud of him, though that’s ridiculous. I imagine Jamie couldn’t be prouder of what his boys have accomplished. Somehow, I suspect he’s most proud of Cal, his oldest, the one who set the bar so high for all of them.
“Was it difficult, Cal? Did you face a lot of danger as a Navy SEAL?”
“You don’t want to hear about that,” he says, his voice soft. “It might ruin this otherwise perfect day.”
I realize my question was silly. Of course he saw his fair share of horrible things while in the service. It’s not my place to pry. If things were different, I’d just go over and give him a big hug. But things aren’t different. They’re complicated. And we’re on horseback.
We haven’t even talked about that kiss. And it’s sitting between us now, like a mountain of unexplored questions. Even if I could and did hug him, it wouldn’t be enough. Once my arms got around him, I might not be able to let go.
We ride side-by-side for a few more moments until I feel Cal’s eyes on me. I turn to meet his gaze. His stare unnerves me. Even in the sunlight, his eyes aren’t a pale purple or a lavender. They’re dark and rich and dangerous, just like the rest of him. And right this moment, they’re focused on me with an intensity I’ve never experienced before.
Our walk speeds up. Trixie decides she’s tired of letting another horse set the pace. Cal continues to glance my way, his body swaying softly with the movement of his horse.
I hold his gaze.
It’s true that many men have been attracted to me over the years. More than a few have wanted me and weren’t at all shy about letting me know it. One man asked me to marry him, and I nearly said yes. I was damn lucky to learn the truth about him before it was too late.
But the situation with Cal is different. Never has my reaction to a man been this fierce, this blistering hot. One look from him and I blush. My mouth goes dry. One crook of his eyebrow and my panties get wet. Before I know it, there’s tingling between my legs.
And then comes the ache, the agony of unsatisfied need. Like what I’m feeling right now.
I shift in the saddle and squeeze my legs together to dull the sensation. And the world shoots out beneath me.
Trixie takes off like a bullet. She turns right and runs. I look down at the earth blurring beneath me, the reins slicing through the meadow grass and whipping in the wind. I can do nothing but hold on to the saddle horn and try to remember something— anything —that might save my life. I know if I fall while going this fast, in this terrain, it really will be the end of me.
“Cal!” I scream into the rush of air, but my cry gets sucked back into my mouth and is silenced. I instinctively press down, lower my center of gravity while I hold on to the saddle horn. I twist the fingers of one hand into the horse’s mane. With the other, I try in vain to reach out and grab one of the reins, but it’s a lost cause—the strips of leather are flying around wildly. If I stretch too far, I’ll definitely fall, and probably get trampled by the horse’s rear hooves.
“Whoa!” I yell. “WHOA, DAMMIT!” Pointless. The horse ignores me. That’s when I realize that my thighs are gripping Trixie’s sides like the jaws of life. She must think I want her to go even faster! What have I done? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I need to relax. I want to relax. I tell myself to stop squeezing so hard, but it’s counterintuitive. I can’t seem to do it.
I don’t know how much longer I can stay on. I’m going to fall.
Just then, Trixie jumps over a rock outcropping blurring under us, and for an instant, I’m weightless, flying. When she comes back down to earth, I slam back into the saddle, lopsided. My feet have slipped from the stirrups.
I’m going over.
I hear the sound of Cal’s horse pounding the ground and gaining on me. I say a silent prayer that he reaches me before I hit the ground. If not, it’ll be his horse that kills me.
I shut my eyes tight, resigned to what’s about to happen, when I feel two strong hands grab me under the arms and lift me up. I’m thrown belly down across his lap, one arm holding me in place as he brings his horse to a stop.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck .” Cal dismounts and drags me off his horse, then pulls me into his arms. My feet are off the ground. He’s got me clutched tight to his body. His heart slams in his chest, and I hear myself whimper against his shirt. My mouth opens wide, and I freeze like that. I can’t breathe. I can’t get any air in my lungs.
“You’re in shock.” Cal sets me on my feet. He drops to the ground, pulling me onto his lap. He rubs my back. “Breathe, Victoria. Come on. Take a breath.”
I can’t respond.
“It’ll pass. But you have to breathe.”
My eyes are bulging. My face feels lava hot. My lungs burn.
“Breathe,” he whispers in my ear.
I do it—I take a huge gulp of air and breathe it out. My entire body starts to shake.
“You’re going to be all right.” His arms hold me. He pulls me even closer. I bring my arms around his neck and bury my face into the crook of his shoulder. He shelters me in his arms.
His strength and his warmth are the only things keeping me from shattering. He rocks softly, rubs my back, and reassures me. I soon become alert enough to hear heavy breathing, snorting, and munching. I look up, squinting into the sun to see a white horse tail flicking near our heads. It’s her. Trixie, the demon horse. Having a snack.
On our other side is Leroy, who looks like the coolest kid in school, just chewing and enjoying the breeze ruffling his mane.
That’s it. I hate horses.
I go back to hiding my face in Cal’s neck. I grip him tightly, never wanting to let go. Eventually, my body believes that the danger has passed. My breathing returns to normal.
Cal senses my improvement and loosens his embrace. His hand still caresses my back with long, languid movements.
“That’s all my fault,” he says. His velvety, deep voice is barely audible, and I wonder if he’s speaking to me or to himself. “I apologize, Victoria. I let my desires get the better of me and I didn’t protect you. My actions are unforgivable. ”
I don’t understand what he means by his desires. His desire to take me out on a ride? His desire to spend time with me? Something else?
“No, Cal.” I straighten, placing my hand on the side of his face. His expression is heartbreaking to see—guilt, remorse, and fear. And I did that to him. I stroke his cheek. “It’s my fault for not telling you I couldn’t ride. It was stupid. I was stupid. I take responsibility for not protecting myself . You are not at fault.”
“Victoria, when you’re with me, your safety is my responsibility. More than just your safety. I need… I want…”
His voice drifts off. I don’t dare push him to tell me what he wants. I understand that we’ve just shared a moment of intimacy, and worse, of weakness, something that neither of us is comfortable with in our day-to-day lives.
He doesn’t want to be honest about what he wants, and I don’t either. Because what we want is impossible.
At least we’re in agreement about that.
“I should’ve learned to ride when I was a kid, when I had the chance. I let fear get in the way.”
“Some fear is essential. If we don’t listen to that little voice—our intuition or sixth sense or whatever you want to call it—we’re doomed.”
“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” I say.
He cocks his head to the side and gives me the boyish half-smile that melts my heart. “I guess Willie the Shake was more articulate than me. Go figure.”
“Shakespeare or not, I doubt you’re afraid of much, Callum MacLaine. ”
“I’m afraid of too much.” His voice is so soft I can barely hear it. He pulls me tight again, presses his cheek to mine. “Can you feel my heartbeat? If you can, then you know about my fear—that I almost lost you.”