Chapter 6
Brett
I like those words.
If you play your cards right.
I’d like to see her again, not that I want to complicate things. I didn’t come here for that—I came here for an escape.
This buzz between us feels familiar, even though I don’t know this chick from Eve. There’s just something I can’t explain about Bailey, and it isn’t just sexual tension, though there’s plenty of that going on.
I want to tell her why I’m here, but I don’t know her.
Plus, the last thing I want is for anyone to go running to the press.
Then my cover will be blown. I need a break, and so do my parents and sister.
We’ve all had an incredibly hard year, and a lot of that is due to my guilt and how I handled things back home.
Maybe it is running away, but I’m done with drama.
“Well, I’m not much of a poker player myself,” I laugh. “But the people in this town are friendly and hospitable. Kinda nice from an outsider lookin’ in.”
“Oh, don’t let any of the locals hear you say that,” Bailey says. “They’ll adopt you immediately and have you earmarked as one of their own before you can blink.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad.” Our eyes meet again.
I like the way she bites down on her lip. It’s like she’s not sure of me, but she wants to be.
“You say that now, but wait until Christmas comes. We have a light display competition, and let’s just say things can get a little crazy trying to be top dog. Friendships have flatlined because of ridiculous arguments over baubles that glow in the dark.”
I laugh out loud. “Sounds kinda familiar.”
“What’s Nashville like?” she asks.
“Well, I live out of the city, on the edge of downtown, anyway. The noise can get a little much.” Even where I live, that noise is a little too close to home.
I feel bad about lying to her. Omitting the truth of who I am and why I’m here is kinda the same as lying, and I’m not a devious person.
But my life is complicated, and I don’t even know how long I’m here for.
It could be a week, two, a month—I don’t know.
I can’t make those kinds of decisions right now.
“I hear that. I once went to New York City to visit Sadie, and while I can appreciate the landmarks and the vibrancy of the place, the traffic alone was enough to have me running back here after a week.”
“Cities will do that to you,” I agree. “They’ll swallow you whole if you let them.” Just like what it did to me. I run a hand over my face. Not now, asshole. Not now.
“That’s why I love it here,” she sighs. “The air is cleaner. There’s space, ya know. Okay, it gets pretty cold in the winter, but it’s a trade-off for all the other spectacular things about Wyoming.”
I love that she’s passionate about where she lives.
I wish I could be the same. Right now, the way my head is feeling, I couldn’t be further away from the place I used to call home.
I swallow hard. Everyone was worried about me in Nashville.
Dale wanted to come with me when I left, but I said no.
I needed to do this on my own. Sure, I may have had a couple of bad months there, but I’m not suicidal. I’m just confused.
“It’s a beautiful part of the country,” I say. “What’s your favorite season?”
“Ugh, definitely not winter,” she groans.
“I actually really love springtime. It’s not too hot, not too cold, we don’t get a lot of rain, and the wind from the Rocky Mountains can bring the temperatures up in April, so it’s pleasant but not humid.
Then there’s the wicked thunderstorms. I dabble in amateur photography. ”
I love hearing her talk about the place she loves so much. There’s an energy around her that I find intoxicating. Even if it is talking about the weather. Hell, we could be talking about the color of orange juice and I’d be mesmerized.
“That’s a coincidence, so do I,” I say, liking we have some common ground.
Actually, we have a lot of the same interests: football, horses, photography, and that sweet cherry pie.
“Not sayin’ I’m any good, but it relaxes me…
” I trail off, not wanting to reveal too much about myself because then there’ll be questions.
“I feel the same way, though some might say I’m obsessed with my animals and the sunsets around here, but that’s just part of who I am. It’s in my blood.”
“A country girl through and through.”
“Yep.”
I like that Bailey knows who she is, and she certainly has confidence. There’s nothing sexier than that, in my opinion.
“How many horses do you have?” I ask.
“I have three of my own. My main horse is Spirit, the other two are rescues; Dancer is the oldest and retired from public life, and then there’s Rebel. I probably don’t have to explain too much about her personality. She loves people, but can be unpredictable.”
“I love that,” I say. “My horse back home was called Clyde.”
“Was?” her voice softens, laced with sadness.
I swallow hard, then turn to her and smile. “He had a good life. I swear that big ol’ guy thought he was a dog, used to follow me everywhere. Literally couldn’t take a leak without him wantin’ to nose his way into the house.” I chuckle at the memory of that big old dufus.
Her smile is soft and warm, her hand reaches for me, and I don’t know if it’s because my eyes are welling up slightly, or because my voice wavered on those last few words.
Clyde was my rock. The one friend, aside from Dale and Jed, who knows everything about me. The good, the bad, the ugly. Especially the ugly.
“I’m sorry. It’s always so hard when you lose a soulmate.”
A soul mate.
Nobody has ever said that to me. Nobody has ever gotten it, because that’s what he was. Animal people get it, but that’s not everybody. Clyde meant the world to me. He was my soulmate. Some friends just can’t be replaced, no matter what you do.
He was mine. In a world that has become so intangible, Clyde was the one sure thing. I loved him as much as he loved me. Memories of us riding for miles flash through my mind: the one place where I felt truly free.
I fucking love this girl. Wait, that’s getting a little crazy, but fuck me.
My voice is croaky and feels thick when I say, “It is. I loved him, his loss can’t be compared to anything else in my life.
” I’m also not afraid to show emotion. In fact, my exes have always said I’m too emotional.
I’m happy-go-lucky, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not one of those macho guys, either.
People are often surprised by that revelation, but I stopped being a people pleaser a long time ago.
“I know what you mean. My first loss was my horse, Pony. I know, I know, but I named her when I was six,” she laughs, but there’s also a tinge of sadness there, too.
“She was such a good girl. I cried for a week nonstop. I was fifteen when she passed, and I’d never suffered heartbreak like that. She just got me, ya know?”
I nod. “I know.”
“Wow, that was a trip down memory lane.”
“Shit, this got dark pretty quick.” I shift in my chair and add, “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
In my periphery, she turns toward me. “You didn’t.
We have to talk about the ones we loved because otherwise it’s like they never existed,” she says, and she’s right.
I still talk to Clyde all these years later when I’m at the stables, even though it’s empty now and I’ve never had the guts to get more horses. Jesus, I’m a prick.
In all fairness, the last few years of my life have been crazy and I’m barely ever home, but the idea of having not just one, but a bunch of horses makes my chest feel tight.
Shit. Maybe that’s a possibility when I get back to Nashville. If I ever go home. Anxiety wells inside me when I think about returning to the place I once called home. It doesn’t feel like that now.
Quiet falls around us, and before too long, we’re at the entrance to a long driveway, the wooden plaque reads: Cedar Hollow.
The sign is worn and a little wonky, hanging off the mailbox precariously.
I’ll have to fix that for her. Not that she isn’t capable of doing it herself, of course, but I don’t want it to fall off.
“Just keep going down a quarter mile, you’ll see the homestead,” she says.
I do as she says. I already know this place is gonna be magical because she lives here.
A feeling of warmth washes over me, I can’t explain it.
I see the little red cottage up ahead and I smile to myself.
It’s very Bailey—rustic but beautiful. There’s a porch with a swing, hanging plants, and a little table with two chairs on the other side of the door.
I can imagine Bailey sitting out here with her morning coffee, admiring her property.
I bring the truck to a stop and kill the engine. “I’ll arrange an Uber—”
“Would you like to come to the stables?” she asks.
My heart palpitates hard in my chest. Immediately, my palms begin to sweat. “Uh—”
“I’m sorry, it’s late,” she says. “And you probably want to get back…”
“No, it’s not that.” I squeeze my cell in my hand and turn to face her. “This is gonna sound stupid, so don’t laugh.”
She gives me her most serious face. “I’m listening.”
I puff out air from my cheeks. “I haven’t been around horses very much since Clyde.” I take a breath and Bailey doesn’t rush to fill the silence with words. “It’s silly, but when I lost him a year ago, I was goin’ through some shit, and that didn’t help matters.”
“He meant a lot to you.”
I can’t speak. Yes, yes, he did, and I haven’t spoken about him at all. I nod.
“But you know what they say?” she says, sounding a little more upbeat. “The only way to get back on the horse is to get back into the saddle. Well, metaphorically, they probably won’t appreciate us going for a midnight gallop.”
I chuckle. “How can I possibly refuse?”
Concern edges over her face. “You’re sure? I promise they don’t bite. Well, Rebel, maybe, but just think of it as a love tap.”
My hostile, slightly grumpy girl has a sense of humor. Then I check myself. My girl?
Holy fuck, this woman is stealing every single emotion from me without even trying and I’ve only known her for a couple of hours.
“I can try. It’ll be good for me.” Even as I say it, I’m not so sure. The last thing I want to do is fucking break down in front of her. What a sap.
But even as I step out of the truck, I know in my heart of hearts that it has to be done.
It’s time.