Chapter Ten
Ten
A fter putting in his training rides in the morning, Eli stood in the arena, the wind howling outside. For most of the night, he had struggled to erase the image of Willow in a bikini from his mind. He finally gave in at around three in the morning and took matters into his own hands. Literally. The pleasure helped temporarily, but when he woke up, her smooth and alluring skin was still imprinted in his thoughts. He took a shower and sought pleasure again, and as he finished, he allowed himself to imagine her while releasing his built-up tension. But even now, if he let his mind drift, his cock twitched.
He was only too glad for a good distraction that came later in the day. Beside him, a woman with a sharp gaze, undoubtedly a riding coach, gave nothing away as she scrutinized the colt being ridden by a teenage girl, probably no older than sixteen, who looked tiny in his saddle. Ranger had been an easy colt to train, with Eli only putting thirty days of training on him, while some took sixty days or longer.
The cold nipped at his ears as he explained, “Ranger’s sire and dam were both champions in the western pleasure circuit. He’s got the bloodline and the brains. Could take your daughter all the way to the ribbons.”
The father nodded, clearly impressed by the elegant lines of the young colt, whose coat shone like burnished copper. “He certainly looks the part,” he replied, smiling at his daughter, who guided Ranger through a series of maneuvers, each one executed with increasing confidence.
“Looks and moves like a dream,” the coach added, her critical tone softening just a fraction as she took in the colt’s fluid movements. “Good conformation, responsive...show him right, and he’ll shine.”
As if sensing the weight of their expectations, Ranger turned his head slightly and nudged the girl’s foot in the stirrup. Her eyes lit up as she laughed, and Eli couldn’t help but feel a spark of satisfaction knowing the colt was already weaving his magic.
The father and coach approached the daughter in the center of the arena, and Eli hung back, knowing they needed privacy to talk.
A moment later, the father returned to Eli. “That colt is everything you said he would be and more. We’ll need to get our vet out here for a pre-purchase exam, but if all checks out, consider him sold.”
Eli offered his hand. As the father shook it, Eli said, “Glad to hear it. He won’t disappoint.”
The coach smiled, offering her hand. “You’ve done an incredible job starting him.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, returning her handshake.
As they continued to discuss logistics, a shadow fell across the barn entrance, and Aubrey stepped into view. Jaxon was hauling a horse today, and Charly was at the bar, so Eli became curious. He turned back to the family, taking the reins from the teenager after she dismounted. “Just shoot me a text when you have that vet appointment scheduled,” Eli said, wrapping up the conversation as he caught sight of Aubrey’s furrowed brow.
“Will do,” the father replied, tipping his own cowboy hat to Aubrey before guiding his daughter and her coach away from the arena.
With the potential buyers gone, Eli brought Ranger back into the barn. Aubrey stood by the crossties, nibbling her lip.
“Everything all right?” he asked her. His voice was even, but his gut tightened as she approached, her eyes sharp with concern.
“Can we talk about Willow?” she asked, her voice cutting straight to the heart of matters, as was her way.
“Of course,” he replied, pausing with a halter in hand. “Is she okay?”
“Look, Eli,” she started. “We’re going to talk straight about this. I’ve never been one to beat around the bush. This fake relationship thing you’re doing is stupid.”
Ranger lowered his head as Eli began removing the bridle. “I’m not sure what you—”
“Willow needs stability, honesty,” she interjected, her tone firm yet laced with a pleading undercurrent.
Eli slipped on the halter and then tied up Ranger to the crossties, feeling the weight of her words settle in the pit of his stomach. Charly loved Willow deeply, but Aubrey’s protective instinct was fierce, and he respected her for it. But it was the unspoken understanding between them, a shared knowledge of what Willow had survived, that made him take a hard look at his own intentions.
“I won’t hurt her,” Eli said quietly, as he placed the bridle on the hook on the stall. “I’m trying to help her.”
Aubrey’s gaze softened slightly. She ran her hand over Ranger’s face. “You are, but just make sure you’re not giving her mixed signals, okay? I know, Willow, truly know her, and she likes you.”
“Well, I like her too,” he said, undoing the cinch.
“Like her?” Aubrey said with a snort. “ Is that all? Because the way you were looking at her last night did not pass the friend vibes.”
He couldn’t refute that. “Listen, I’m not the one that sent me flying on my ass when I kissed her.”
“I know that,” Aubrey said. “But that was also three months ago. I know no one has said this to you,” she said firmly, and then pointed at him, “so I’m saying it now. Be careful here. If at any moment, this fake thing starts to look like it will hurt Willow, it stops. Promise me.”
The truth of Aubrey’s words hung heavy in the air as his jaw clenched. “I won’t hurt her. That’s an easy promise, Aubrey.”
She gave a curt nod, her expression softening as she turned to leave Eli with his thoughts, the scent of hay and leather.
With his hands stilled on the saddle, he watched Aubrey’s retreating figure, her words still echoing in the barn.
“Aubrey,” he called out, his voice firmer than he felt.
She paused, halfway through the door. “Yeah?” she asked.
“This isn’t some game that I’m playing. I’m not that guy.” He struggled to find the words, his usual composure broken. “I’m truly doing this to help her.”
“Are you truly helping her though?” Aubrey asked. “Or was this just a really good reason for you both to play pretend because it’s easier to do that than actually go all in?”
He swallowed hard, tasting the dust and the remnants of fear that clung to his throat. Memories of Willow’s laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with life, flooded his mind. But so did the shadows that lingered there, cast by a past that had nearly broken her and him.
“Like I said, I’m doing this to protect her.” His voice cracked, sharp and raw. “The rules for this have been set out. Determined. We end at New Year’s.”
“I see,” Aubrey said slowly. “Well, I guess all I can say is that’s a real shame because Willow...her warm, sunny soul...it fixes everything, Eli. Trust me.”
The raw honesty in her voice struck a chord deep within him. His heart was a drumbeat, loud in the quiet of the stable, echoing the truth of Aubrey’s words. He couldn’t deny the feelings that surged through him whenever he thought of Willow, but he’d taken a step back when she turned him down.
Maybe that was the wrong decision. Maybe he should have pushed more.
He looked away, finding solace in the simple sight of Ranger, standing patiently next to him.
As she walked away, he pulled the saddle off, her words echoing around him: her warm, sunny soul...it fixes everything, Eli...
Willow felt lit up all day after the ride, the hot tub, just all of it. She woke up with a grin that stayed plastered on her face all day long. It lingered through her weekly FaceTime call with her parents, where they caught up and chatted for a while. Despite texting or talking on the phone daily, they still made it a point to see each other’s faces at least once a week. The smile continued through the busy lunch rush as well. She kept thinking about Eli, and she began to wonder why she’d been so eager to shut him down all those months ago. What would have happened if she hadn’t?
Maybe she shouldn’t have been so scared and had given him a shot...
Nearing three o’clock in the afternoon, Willow moved around the long table with chairs, setting out the craft supplies, as all the ladies sat around the table, sipping their wine, save for Amie, who hadn’t arrived yet. The air hummed with the promise of the approaching Christmas market, and Charly and Aubrey were both beginning to decorate the bar for the festive season. She felt its excitement thrumming through her veins. She spread out spools of crimson ribbon and clusters of pine cones, envisioning the wreaths that would soon adorn the town’s doors.
“Willow, where do you want these?” Aubrey called out, her voice bright like the twinkling lights she dangled from her fingertips.
A couple of hours had passed since she left the bar, looking tense and on edge. But as she returned, Willow noticed that Aubrey seemed to be back to her normal self. Willow decided not to bring it up and give her some space. Aubrey had been acting strange lately, but Willow knew that when she was ready, she would open up and talk about whatever was going on with her.
“Along the windows,” Willow responded, pointing toward the pane that framed the wintry world outside.
As the final preparations for another craft group neared completion, the front door creaked open and Betty entered. Widowed yet undeterred by life’s trials, Betty brought with her an aura of sweet resilience. Willow would never forget her kindness when she’d first moved to town. Betty wrapped Willow in her love from day one.
“Good afternoon, my dear,” Betty greeted.
“Betty, I’m so glad you’re here.” Willow met her with an embrace.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Betty replied, her eyes twinkling beneath the soft creases of her lids. “Now, let me help you get ready.” She gestured toward the table and began placing out the fake berries and sprigs of holly in the center of the table for the wreath making.
Willow took in the moment. The Naked Moose had never looked more inviting, bathed in the golden glow of twinkling lights, but it was the thought of Eli’s arrival that had her barely able to stand still. Every time the door swung open on its hinges, she couldn’t help but glance up, hoping it would be him.
Maybe that was a problem. Maybe it wasn’t. She was trying to not overthink things and simply enjoy the ease of life lately.
“Need these?” Charly asked from behind her.
Willow spun around, saw the bundle of cinnamon sticks and nodded. “Thanks,” she murmured, accepting them. “These will be perfect.”
“Anytime,” Charly replied, before returning to behind the bar.
She wasn’t only waiting on Eli for his company. He was bringing in a box of donated craft items from Wolf Springs, but she had enough to get the group started this afternoon.
The door swung wide again, though this time, it crashed open. Amie staggered through, her face a canvas of anguish, tears carving rivers through her makeup.
“Willow,” she choked out, the name half drowned in her sobs.
Willow rushed forward, swiftly closing the distance between them, taking Amie by the arms. “What’s happened?”
“His sister.” Amie gasped between breaths, the words laced with betrayal. “Buck’s sister...she’s the one. The comment...the text.” She clung to Willow. “I’m so sorry. It was all because of me.” A sob broke from her throat.
A cold fury ignited within Willow. But she quelled it, as she fought against the fear rising up, drawing instead on a reservoir of strength she’d built brick by painstaking brick since the night Niko had shattered her world.
“How do you know it was her?” Willow asked gently, helping guide Amie into a seat.
“Because the detective that worked my case came to tell me, so I could put a restraining order on her,” Amie said, her voice hiccupping. “He wanted to make sure I was safe.”
“That’s good,” Willow said, kneeling, taking Amie’s hands. “None of this is on you. You are not to blame for someone else being horrible.”
Amie’s shoulders shook as she clung to Willow, her breaths coming in short bursts. “They’re awful people. I should have connected it. They’ve written so many bad things about me, but I never thought they’d stoop this low.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Willow said. “You’re a good person. Such an idea wouldn’t even come to you.” She squeezed Amie’s hands. “Please don’t feel bad about this. I’m just glad we know who’s behind this, and the police can stop them. Okay?”
There was a nod, a subtle acknowledgment that the words were seeping through the cracks of Amie’s guilt.
“Willow’s right, honey,” came Betty’s seasoned voice, warm as a woolen blanket freshly pulled from the dryer. Her wrinkled hands, so skilled in knitting comfort from mere strands of yarn, reached out to touch Amie’s arm with a grandmotherly kindness.
“Come now, let’s try something to take your mind off things.” Betty guided Amie toward the table where bundles of evergreen boughs awaited transformation. “Making something beautiful—it helps, doesn’t it? Takes a bit of the edge off.”
The other women in the room nodded, their faces etched with lines of empathy. They moved closer, not crowding, but offering silent solidarity. Some picked up the fake berries and began to weave them into the beginnings of wreaths.
“See these?” Betty held up a sprig of holly to Amie, distracting her. “They’re tough, like us. Survive the harshest winters and still manage to look beautiful.”
A small, quivering smile tugged at the corner of Amie’s mouth, and she reached out a tentative hand to accept the holly.
“Exactly,” Willow said. “We’re all a little like these holly leaves—sharp when we need to be, but full of life. Capable of growing in places no one thought possible.”
Her cell phone’s sudden ring in her apron cut through the conversation, jolting Willow. She excused herself and strode to the back, her hand steady as she answered. “Hello.”
“Hello, Willow. Detective Harris here,” came the crisp voice on the other end. “We’ve made some headway regarding those messages you reported.”
“I just heard from Amie that it was Buck’s sister,” Willow said.
“Indeed. We’ve identified Buck’s sister, Samantha, as the source. She seems convinced Amie is fabricating stories about Buck, and wants to dismantle your support group since word of Buck’s abuse is spreading through town. We had a talk, outlined the legal repercussions of her actions. I suspect she won’t bother you again.”
Relief washed over Willow in an almost physical wave. “Thank you, Detective. This means more than I can say.”
“Keeping this community safe is my job, Willow. Take care now.” With that, the line went dead, leaving Willow exhaling a breath of relief.
She tucked her phone back into her apron and returned to the bar where the fragrant pine and cheerful chatter softened the edges of her anxiety. Good. It was... over. Now they could continue forward, and the group would be a huge success.
And yet, did that mean the fake relationship had to end? The thought sank heavy into her gut and churned her belly.
Amie sat apart, a wreath barely started in her lap, her hands shaking too much to tie the delicate ribbon.
“You okay?” Willow asked gently, taking the seat next to her.
Amie’s gray eyes, usually so strong, now brimmed with unshed tears. “I just hate this—hate that my problems became your problems.”
“Listen to me, Amie,” Willow began, steeling herself for the vulnerability she was about to expose. “You’re not the cause of any of this, okay? The only person responsible is Buck’s sister.”
Amie sniffled, nodding slowly, but the guilt clearly lingered.
Willow hadn’t shared her story. Not with anyone. She never told anyone but the police what happened that night with Niko. Even Charly and Aubrey didn’t know all the details, because they’d been too hard to share, too raw. But as she stared at Amie, so broken, she knew she had to share—to show her she understood. “I do understand having to deal with other people’s rage and issues,” she said to Amie. “I remember the night that Niko changed my life forever.” She glanced down at her wreath, beginning to add some cinnamon sticks. “A night he lost himself to rage. I ended up in the ER, ten stitches holding my cheek together.”
The words hung heavy, a raw admission that felt like reopening a wound long scabbed over. The surrounding noise dimmed, the world seemingly narrowing down to just her.
Willow reached for the spool of ribbon, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric, and she forced her hand not to shake. It would never shake for Niko again. “Before that night,” she began, “Niko had been rough, sure—pushing, yelling, all sorts of emotional games—and all that was harmful in and of itself, but that night...” She swallowed hard, feeling the memories claw at her throat. “That night, he became someone I didn’t recognize. A monster.”
The glint of twinkling Christmas lights did little to warm the chill that settled over her skin as she recounted every moment of that night. “He raged for hours, his anger a living thing. I thought he was going to kill me.” She swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly as she wrapped the ribbon around the wreath. “I thought he was going to kill me.”
“How did you get away?” Amie asked, her voice barely above a murmur.
“By feeding his ego,” Willow replied, adding some holly sprigs into the wreath, tucking them in tight. “I told him I was sorry for what I’d done for making him so mad—even if I had no idea why he was so angry—that it was all my fault for making him mad. God, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I needed to survive, to live.” She drew in a long, deep breath and then glanced at Amie. “I got him to believe that I wasn’t upset and I was hungry. It was like he couldn’t even see the blood on me—like his brain had completely forgotten what he’d just done. I’ve never seen anything like that before.” She added more berries, tucking them in. “When he left to get food, I ran. I was just soaked...covered in blood, everywhere. I remember how afraid my neighbor had been when I arrived at her door, but she was brave enough to let me in and call the cops...to help me.”
That night she saw the difference between good and evil—it had been so clear. “For a long time after that, I blamed myself for putting myself in that situation,” she continued, “but eventually, I realized all I did was love someone. And Niko turned that love ugly.” She glanced at Amie and smiled, tears in her eyes. “I wasn’t to blame for what Niko did, and you aren’t to blame for what Buck or his sister have done. That’s all on them.”
Tears dried; Amie threw her arms around Willow. “I’m so sorry you went through what you did, Willow, and you’re right, we’re not the bad people here.”
The silence in The Naked Moose was palpable as she held Amie tight. Her heart felt softer in her chest. She had peeled back the layers of her darkest night, exposing the wounds for the very first time, and with those words, came... peace .
It wasn’t until she leaned away from Amie that she noticed tears spilling over Charly’s cheeks. Aubrey stood beside her, hand clamped over her mouth, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
She was engulfed in their arms a second later.
“Willow,” Charly breathed out, her voice quivering with emotion. “I never knew—”
“None of us did,” Aubrey chimed in. “You’re so strong, Willow. You’re so fucking brave.”
Willow blinked away the moisture in her own eyes, her gaze lifting to meet theirs. “It’s not just my strength that got me through,” she said. “It’s knowing I have all of you. It’s friendships. It’s love. It’s all the good. That’s how we win.” As Charly and Aubrey stepped away, a new presence brushed against her senses.
Eli stood just inside the doorway, his towering frame holding a stillness that belied the storm of emotions playing across his face. He seemed to have forgotten the box of craft supplies he was delivering.
Willow’s breath caught in her throat. His piercing gaze was fixated on her, and his emotions bled on his face. She saw for a moment how he saw her—not as a victim but as a survivor. She rose and moved toward him.
“Willow,” Eli’s voice finally broke the silence as she reached him. “You’re one hell of a woman.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “I hadn’t meant for you to hear that.”
“I’m glad I did,” Eli replied, his eyes never leaving hers. He took a step closer, bringing a world of heat with him. “Detective Harris called earlier. I missed the call, but he left a message about Samantha.”
“So you heard too,” Willow said, glancing back at Amie before saying to Eli, “Amie feels terrible, but I’m just glad the police have it all handled now.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Eli said, sliding his hands into his pockets.
She nibbled her lip. “I guess we don’t have to—” She leaned in and said softly, “pretend anymore.”
His eyes searched hers for a long moment, before he dropped his voice, keeping the conversation private. “We did say this ends at New Year’s. I think it’s best to stick to that. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
She nodded, the tension in her belly easing in an instant. She wasn’t ready for the dates to stop with Eli, but she wasn’t ready for anything more either. She liked things exactly as they were. “I totally agree.”
Relief washed over Eli’s face, and his smile was... sweet . Again, he said quietly, “But what about doing something tonight just for us, as friends, not pretending nothing?”
She froze a little. This most certainly felt like a step past friends, but it also suddenly felt like the right step. “I think that sounds fun.”
“Great,” he said, his smile widening. This time he said louder, “Can you get off tonight?”
“Yes,” Charly and Aubrey called behind them.
Willow laughed. “Apparently, yes.”
He gave a firm nod. “I’ll pick you up at your place at seven. Dress warm,” he added, before dropping a quick kiss on her cheek and walking away.
She watched him exit the bar, and swiftly turned around to find Charly and Aubrey nearly right behind her. He’d gone from being all in for the fake relationship to suddenly wanting to hang out as friends. She set her stare on Aubrey, folding her arms. “Did your vanishing earlier have something to do with that.”
Aubrey scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she walked away. “A black bikini had something to do with that.”