Chapter 23
Twenty-three
Mabel
Squeezing my thighs tighter around Dusty’s middle, leaning forward in the saddle I urge my old boy to go faster.
The sun’s long set, and my daughter’s being put to bed by the one man I’d pleaded silently to myself for years to do so.
My head’s a fucking mess.
My heart’s even worse.
I feel like I can’t breathe anymore, so when Maverick went with Ellie and my dad, I made my excuses and run down to the horse barn, down to my favourite boy.
None of my friend’s even questioned where I was going, as I’d done this every Fourth of July once Ellie went to bed.
At first, they’d question but after a few years they stopped asking. They realised that it was my tradition, as well as my own way to go and break down in our field at yet another year missed.
Except this year wasn’t missed, and I don’t know how to deal with it.
I spot the field coming into the distance; I come here so much that I never need any light to know the way.
When Ellie was small, I’d bring her here with me whenever I needed to get away, but as she got older, she wasn’t interested in sitting on a blanket in a field that meant nothing to her, yet everything to me.
I’ll sneak over here at any opportunity that I can get, no matter the time of day, or the season of the year.
Pulling on Dusty’s reins to slow my old boy down, we enter into a trot, the Tennessee stars lighting up the sky so brightly I don’t need any help from a torch to see.
Reaching the post that me and Maverick had put up so many years ago, I halt my boy to a stop next to it, before swinging my leg over and dismounting him.
I give him a good pat on his neck, thanking him for once again bringing me here as safely as his old legs could carry him. He replies back to my affection with a snort, pulling on my hair up in between his teeth.
I snort back at him. “Thanks, old man,” stepping down towards his back to get my usual supplies I bring out here every year.
Pulling the blanket I’d folded onto his back off, I stretch it out and place it on the grass next to the makeshift post. I remove the rucksack from my shoulders and place it onto the blanket.
Kneeling down next to the bag on the blanket, I pull out my portable speaker and place it on the blanket before taking out the first of two bottles of white wine I decided to swipe, alongside a plastic wine glass.
Pouring myself a glass, leaning back onto my left hand, I let out a sigh of relief. Even though this place held so many memories, it’s always been the place that I feel most at peace.
Looking back towards Dusty, who happily has his head down, munching away on the long grass that grows here, I put my wine down into the potable holder that I have for times like these.
Getting my phone from my pocket, I connect to the speaker and decide on my slow country playlist. Brooks and Dunn quietly fills the night air as I take my glass from its perch and take a long hard gulp.
I lean my head back and take in my surroundings like I do every time I come here; the wolves howling up the mountains and the trees whistling in the wind. I hear horses galloping through the fields, but the noise startles me; why can I hear a horse galloping through the fields?
I snap my head into the direction of the noise, convincing myself I’m imagining it. No one around here rode a horse at this time of night.
Well, no one except me.
I look back down towards my phone and press pause on the song that’s coming through it. The hooves still thudding against the ground, quickly realising that I’m not imagining it.
Still holding onto my plastic glass of wine, I stand from where I’m sat on the blanket and squint my eyes to get a better view of where the noise is coming from.
Dusty lifts his head up and starts to shake it up and down, which is what he always does with another incoming horse, letting out a whine as he does it. I squint my eyes even more, spotting a horse and a rider coming towards us.
Fuck.
The only person that might know where I am would be Maverick.
I take another gulp of my wine as I watch the man who has haunted my dreams for well over a decade, come racing towards me on my brothers horse, my shoulders sag at the sight of him.
Why did he follow me out here?
How did he know where I was?
I do my best to hold steady on my own two feet, on top of the blanket that I laid in the same place every year, as I watch Maverick hold his stance upon the horse that’s charging towards me.
The night sky’s not lit up enough to see his face; however, I feel the fire behind the man who’s running towards me as fast as he can.
I’m trying hard to keep my breathing hollow, and my drunken ass in control.
“Woah, boy,” Maverick says, as he pulls back on his reins to slow Dash down to a halt next to Dusty.
I take another gulp of my wine, finishing the glass as I watch him, still frozen.
Maverick gives Dash a pat on his neck as I watch him swing his leg over the back of him and dismount with ease, like he’d never stopped riding all this time he’s been gone.
He ties Dash up on the post next to Dusty, as he gives my old boy some attention.
“Good to see you too, old man,” Maverick says to my horse, Dusty whining at the sight of him; he remembers who he is. I refuse to move from the space, still watching him with a questionable look.
“Knew I’d find you out here,” Maverick says, trying to break some of the tension between us.
I smirk back at him, once again raising the glass to my lips. “What are you doing here?” I ask him, as I shake my head.
Maverick doesn’t reply to me, just keeps stomping towards me, where I’m still standing on my blanket. For a moment I think he doesn’t hear my question.
“I was worried,” he replies to me, as he reaches me, standing so close to me.
“I’m a big girl, no need to worry.” I once again find myself shaking my head at him as well as rolling my eyes.
I take a seat back down on my blanket, reaching for the bottle of wine and pouring myself a glass, before reaching into my rucksack, pulling out another glass.
“I’ve only got white wine,” I offer to him, as he follows my lead and takes a seat down on the floor with me.
“White’s fine with me,” he smiles back at me as he leans his body weight back onto his hands.
I offer him the plastic cup, which he takes whilst brushing his fingers alongside mine. The typical bolt of electricity once again flows throughout my body as I let go and place my hand back around my own cup, heat filling my cheeks.
A gust of wind blows against us and moves my hair over my face, but before I can correct it and push it back, familiar hands stroke my cheeks as Maverick moves my hair out of my face and tucks it comfortably behind both my ears.
I can’t help but smile sadly back at him, my eyes fighting the memories and feelings that are hitting me harder than a bullet. Maverick moves his hands into his lap as he crosses his legs and sits up into a more upright position.
“She’s one of a kind that little lady of yours,” he says as my heart wills to take what I always thought my rightful place was on his lap.
Instead, I take another sip of my drink. “She sure is,” I say, breathing as deeply as I can, trying to stop myself from jumping on top of him, rubbing my already wet pussy along his shaft.
“I have to ask...” Maverick says as he clears his throat. “Where’s her daddy?”
My mouth suddenly becomes dry and once again the pain arises up from the pit of my stomach.
Holy shit.
I knew this was coming.
“I- um- I,” I manage out, trying to clear my throat.
Maverick notices the discomfort I now find myself in and quickly reaches for my hand.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” he starts, still holding onto my hand with his firm grip.
I let out a hard breath.
Now is as good as time as any time as any.
“She doesn’t have one.” I manage out, fighting back the tears that have formed in my eyes.
Maverick’s eyes shoot back into my direction at the admission. “What?” he whispers out, the pain in his eyes matching mine.
“She doesn’t have one,” I repeat, shrugging my shoulders.
Before I know what’s happening, Maverick crawls over to me on his hands and knees. When he reaches me, he sits in front of me, his face so close to mine that I feel his breath on my nose. He cups my face with both hands, and I sag against them, aching for the comfort that he always brought me.
“What happened, Firefly?” He whispers once again, his green eyes inflamed from the anger I see burning up inside of him.
Watching the emotions pouring from his eyes, I feel the tears slipping down my cheeks. I open and close my mouth several times, Maverick never taking his eyes off mine.
“Fuck, baby, come here,” he says before sitting back on the blanket, spreading his legs. He turns me round and pulls me into him, my back leaning against his chest and his strong arms wrap around me.
What I would have given up at any point to be back in these arms after all these years.