Chapter Thirteen
Alexis stared at the line of horses roped off beneath the shade of a cypress windbreak.
Their tails swished lazily in the sunshine.
She felt sick, not because of the omelet stuffed with spinach and mushrooms she’d inhaled for breakfast, and not even because Birdie was standing beside her when she’d hoped to avoid her until tonight’s ceremony where she fully intended to send her home.
Alexis felt sick because she had never, ever ridden a horse.
And frankly, she could’ve gone a lifetime without ever climbing onto one of these monstrous beasts. But apparently, karma had a jacked-up sense of humor.
The corral belonged to Ferme des Ocres, a family-run stable pressed right up against the rust-colored cliffs. From where she stood, Alexis could see the trail curling away into the hills that were framed by scarlet and gold rock faces which made it look like the earth had been set on fire.
A woman emerged from the barn. She had grey hair pulled into a ponytail, golden eyes, and skin bronzed and weathered, creased from years outdoors.
“Bienvenue à Ferme des Ocres,” she said, her French accent curling around each syllable.
“My name is Marie. This is my family farm. I’ll guide you as we ride through Les Sentiers des Ocres. It is a very famous natural site.”
Alexis forced a polite smile even though her stomach was doing backflips.
“You will see cliffs, the quarries, and the forest,” Marie went on, facing the camera a little too directly. “It is like walking on Mars, but better.”
“Then surely we could just walk,” Alexis said, lifting a brow. It was worth a shot, wasn’t it? Walking sounded calming, and it sounded safe. And right now, safe was all Alexis wanted.
Marie laughed. “Non-negotiable. We ride.” She pointed toward a dark bay horse. “That’s yours. His name is Magnum. He is very friendly.”
Magnum gave her a snort that rattled in his wide chest. He didn’t look friendly.
On the contrary, Alexis was sure he had already deemed her unworthy of being on his back.
And maybe she was. Maybe Magnum could smell her past mistakes and didn’t care that she was trying to make up for them.
In fact, he could probably see that she was failing miserably at the moment.
“Don’t look so stressed,” Birdie said, nudging Alexis with her elbow.
“I’m not stressed,” Alexis snapped back, a little too aware of the spot Birdie’s elbow had touched her arm. “I’m just calculating my odds of survival.”
“This is your first time on a horse?” she asked, lifting a brow. “Because it’s okay to be a little scared if it is. My first time, I thought I was going—”
Alexis didn’t let her finish. “It’s not,” she lied, and with that, she squared her shoulders and headed toward the horse Marie was tugging out from the shade.
“Left hand here,” Marie instructed, tapping the saddle horn. “Foot in the stirrup. Push up and swing your leg over. Easy.”
“Right.” Alexis felt her cheeks flare hot as she noticed the cameras angling in closer. “Easy peasy,” she muttered, though she wasn’t convincing anyone—not Marie, not Birdie, not even herself.
She put her left hand on the horn, shoved her foot into the stirrup, and tried to hoist herself up.
The movement was graceless. And when she swung her leg over the saddle, she became horribly aware that she’d just given the cameraman behind her a full panoramic shot of her ass.
Perfect. Exactly the kind of thing she wanted to be remembered for on national television.
“Très bien,” Marie said. “Pull left to turn left, right to turn right. A little squeeze with your heels if you want him to move.”
“And how do I get him to stop?”
Marie laughed and patted Magnum’s flank. He lurched forward, and Alexis winced as her knuckles whitened around the reins. He then tossed his head like he knew exactly how nervous she was and enjoyed every second of her fear. Great, Magnum was a psychopath.
She risked a glance sideways just in time to watch Birdie mount her horse with one smooth, sexy motion. Foot in, push, swing, settle. No wobble and no flailing. No ass in the air spectacle. Just deliciously perfect.
“We go!” Marie called, swinging herself onto a tall chestnut mare.
Slowly, ever so slowly, they moved forward along the trail. Red cliffs rose on either side. Dust curled in the warm breeze. The cicadas started up their infernal chorus, and the sun poured down like someone had spilled a vat of honey over the entire valley.
Birdie was ahead, perched on a dapple-grey horse, looking every bit as comfortable as Alexis would’ve looked if she were walking up the trail.
“Gardez les yeux ouverts,” Marie called, glancing over her shoulder. “These trails are older than sin.”
Alexis had no idea what Marie had said, but her thighs tightened around Magnum anyway.
Which was the wrong thing to do. The horse sped up, then slowed again when she yanked the reins.
She would’ve happily stayed in the back, trailing behind Marie and Birdie, but Elise, who followed with the camera crew, gave a polite little cough that wasn’t polite at all.
The kind of cough that said, move forward and engage.
Which is what she did. She nudged Magnum up alongside Birdie and surprised even herself. She hadn’t fallen off her horse yet, and that had to count for something.
“I used to ride a lot when I was younger,” Birdie said, looking her way.
Whatever irritation she’d carried on the ride up was gone.
This happy, cheery, smiley Birdie was probably just an act for the cameras.
“My aunt has a small hobby farm just outside Crested Butte. She had three horses when I was a kid: Bella, Butternut, and Beyoncé. Unfortunately, Beyoncé died a few years back. My aunt didn’t take it very well. ”
“Well, honestly, I’ve never been on a horse before,” Alexis admitted, though it was incredibly obvious. “Not unless you count a steel pony on the merry-go-round. And I’m sorry to hear about Beyoncé. I hope your aunt is doing better now.”
“She is,” Birdie said, smiling. “She got another horse. Not that Beyoncé could ever be replaced.”
“I can relate.”
“Yeah?” Birdie tipped her head. “Did you lose a pet?”
Alexis nodded. “Harry,” she said. “He was a parrot. He could talk. Swear mostly. Not that I taught him to swear. He came that way.”
Birdie laughed, bright and loud enough that it bounced off the rocks, and Alexis felt something deep in her stomach. That something was nothing she wanted to name. “I never took you for a bird person.”
“I’m not,” Alexis said quickly. “Harry showed up on my balcony one day and didn’t leave.”
“That’s got to be a good omen or something,” Birdie said, grinning as she shifted in her saddle.
The sun beat down on her legs, and for the first time, Alexis could see a constellation of freckles scattered across her bare knee.
She found herself wondering if her other knee also had freckles and made a mental note to check.
But then she quickly scratched that mental note because, no, she should not be checking out Birdie’s bare skin.
“I guess,” Alexis shrugged and focused on Magnum’s mane. It was thick and coarse and as dark as ink.
“How did he die?”
“Snake,” Alexis said flatly, then laughed when Birdie’s eyes rounded and her jaw dropped. “I’m just kidding. The vet said it was old age.”
Birdie chuckled. “You know, I think that’s probably the first time you’ve made a joke.”
“Is it?” Alexis asked, snapping her gaze forward just in time to catch the back of Marie’s horse disappearing around a bend.
She hoped her cheeks weren’t going to turn red all of a sudden.
Because Birdie was right, it was the first time.
Alexis didn’t make jokes often, only when she was half a wine bottle deep and when she truly felt comfortable with someone.
Which was basically never. This was a surprise. This was dangerous.
“It is,” Birdie said. Then she tilted her head and gave a smile that made Alexis rethink every little moment in her life, including right now. “But maybe don’t make more jokes when you’re around the other contestants. I don’t want them to think you’re fun.”
Wait, was Birdie teasing her? Was she flirting for the cameras? Or did she actually mean it? Did she want Alexis all to herself?
“Regardez là-bas!” Marie called suddenly, pointing ahead with her reins.
Her horse stepped to the right before she swept her arm over the cliffs that blazed in the sun.
The cliffs were striated with bands of red, orange, and gold so vivid they looked painted on.
“This is why it is called the Colorado of Provence.”
Alexis seized the moment. She squeezed her heels gently into Magnum’s sides and urged him a few paces forward. It was just enough to put some space between herself and Birdie. A little breathing room. Then she asked, “So when will we be stopping for the rosé?”
“Soon, mademoiselle,” Marie chuckled. “Soon.”
Which wasn’t all that soon.
By the time they reached the cliffs, Alexis was certain her inner thighs had been permanently welded to Magnum’s back. She was also certain she would never forgive the viewers for voting for a horseback riding date.
But at least the view was beautiful.
Tucked beneath the shade of a pine tree was a picnic spread waiting for them.
A bottle-green gingham blanket was stretched across a patch of grass.
It was weighed down by two wicker baskets that had been propped open.
One of them had a fat wheel of goat cheese wrapped in paper, a crusty baguette already torn into chunks, and a jar of lavender honey.
The other held two bottles of wine. The rosé was so pale it looked like melted rose quartz.
Next to them was a pewter bucket filled with ice cubes that were already half melted in the heat.
Birdie reined in her horse first. She looked unfairly good as she dismounted the big beast. Meanwhile, Alexis slid off Magnum like a sack of potatoes.
“You survived,” Birdie said, walking up to her. She gave a quick flick of her head, and her bangs fell perfectly into place.
“Barely,” Alexis said, brushing imaginary dirt off the back of her jeans. She then pointed at the rosé. “But if I don’t get a glass of that in the next thirty seconds, I will lie down in this dirt and die.”
Another joke. Another surprised look from Birdie.
Alexis quickly made her way to the blanket and sat down.
For the last thirty minutes, she’d managed to keep some distance from Birdie, but here on this picnic blanket it would be impossible.
They would be merely inches apart. Close enough for Alexis to smell perfume clinging to Birdie’s neck.
Close enough for Alexis to want to curse herself for being aware of it.
She smiled politely when Birdie sat down and busied her hands with the bottle of rosé.
But she could only distract herself for so long.
“So, tell me,” Alexis said, finally letting her eyes drift to Birdie.
“What work do you do?” She had asked Lyra this exact question the other day, except Alexis hadn’t already known the answer like she did now. Birdie owned a bookstore.
Alexis knew it was on the corner of Everett and she knew it was called Bound & Read. Alexis had briefly read it on the business card Birdie had handed her before she’d rudely tossed it in the hotel lobby’s bin.
But the cameras didn’t know that. Neither did Elise nor the viewers.
“I own a bookstore,” Birdie replied, drizzling honey over a chunk of goat cheese she’d haphazardly smeared over a piece of French loaf. “It’s not huge or anything, but we’ve got everything from Twilight to Shantaram.”
“So, you like to read?”
“No,” Birdie replied, bringing the glass of rosé to her lips. “I love to read. Always have.” She chuckled and lowered her head for a brief second before meeting Alexis’s gaze. “You know, I even bought a book to give to you for the introductions.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me?” Alexis asked, even though it was obvious. Their introduction had been catastrophic, if not a complete and utter shock. Even if Birdie had brought a book along, there wouldn’t have been an exchange.
“I wasn’t sure if you liked books. Not everyone does. Some people actually compare reading to doing chores.” She set the glass down on a flat rock dug halfway into the earth beside the blanket. “I read that on a blog a while back. The majority of people would rather eat snails.”
“That can’t be true.”
“It is.”
“Well, I like reading,” Alexis said matter-of-factly. And she did. She could easily curl up on her sofa on a weekend and lose hours to a book.
Birdie smiled. But it wasn’t like any of her other smiles, not that Alexis kept a filing system or anything.
It was simply that this one seemed so genuine, like she actually cared that Alexis liked to read.
Suddenly, Alexis’s head got all hot, and for a second, she completely forgot that she was intending to send Birdie home tonight.
Which she was still going to do. It needed to be done. Right?
The logic made sense in her head… well, mostly.
“What’s your favorite—” Birdie started, but she was cut off by Elise, who suddenly appeared beside the blanket, tapping her watch with her finger. “Thirty minutes, ladies. Then we need to head back.”
Alexis was disappointed, which frankly surprised her, just as much as when she smiled and said, “Wild by Cheryl Strayed. That’s my favorite book.”