5. Storm
The sky is already starting to fade into that deeper blue color that tells me I needed to clock out about thirty minutes ago. I grab my jacket off the hook and swing the stable door open, then lock it behind me. Pausing momentarily to do a quick run-through of the day.
Shoot.
I didn’t log the afternoon rides. I bang my head against the wood and keep it there as I argue with myself.
One of us wins and I decide I’ll do it in the morning. I shift into my denim jacket and start toward the ranch office. I could feel the day in my bones, not just my muscles. It’s been an unusually long day.
The early morning went all right, I suppose. It was the late morning that spun me out of control for the rest of the day.
After finding Silas in the stables.
I knew he was staying here for a while. Knew he was injured. Wilder mentioned it just the other day when I stopped in the Saddle Room for coffee. Said it’s been nice having his brother stick around longer than a few hours, without feeling like he’s going to bolt back to the city any minute.
I was prepared to see him again. It would only be natural, since he’ll be living here for the next few weeks.
But I wasn’t prepared to run into him. I wasn’t prepared to be alone with him.
And when he stepped in close, I completely lost my breath.
The ability to speak. To move. To look anywhere but his intense, familiar blue eyes.
The sharp set of his jaw. To feel all that masculinity up close, the quiet power radiating off him, coiled with restraint.
It was enough to send heat curling low into my belly. A sharp awareness I had to clench to contain.
He wasn’t wrong to correct me. My words were intentional and I don’t know why. Why I’d take an injured athlete who made it clear years ago he wanted nothing to do with me and set out to belittle him in a place that’s still, and always will be, his home.
No matter how far he’s traveled outside of it.
It bothered me all day.
He simply thanked me for helping him and I snapped the moment in half. Basically telling him he shouldn’t be lurking where he doesn’t belong.
His words echo in my head.
Then I guess I’d better get out of here before I hurt myself.
Ouch.
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it’s just me and the exhaustion is making me emotional, resurfacing a soft spot I’d always had for Silas.
Let’s call it what it was, Storm. A crush. You had a crush. One he never saw because girls mature faster than boys and boys are too blind to see what’s right in front of them.
And eventually, when he grew up and girls were as natural as breathing, he still didn’t see it. I was just the tomboy he used to make trouble with on his dad’s ranch. The girl who, more often than not, smelled like leather and hay rather than vanilla and lavender.
But there were other boys.
Like Jasper Hayes—Silas’s best friend all through high school. Even after Silas left for college on a full hockey scholarship to Denver U.
A year later, while I was still only in my senior year in high school, there was a party at Jasper’s house. A party in Silas’s honor, after word got out that an NHL team wanted him once he finished college.
On pure adrenaline—and bad advice from one of my girlfriends, I went to the party.
It felt like my last chance to tell him how I felt. My last chance to see if there was something there all those summers we spent inseparable.
I was young. I had a plan that made complete sense. Show up, intentionally grab a spiked drink, and tell him I used to have a crush on him. Then I’d wish him well, tell him how happy I am that he’s found his purpose, and that I hope to see him around. Play it cool.
But . . . college parties don’t usually pan out the way you envision. Especially when the guest of honor takes off with a cheerleader minutes before you get there.
I felt stupid. Looking back now, Jasper must have taken pity on me. He saw me approach the fruit punch bowl and immediately offered me a sealed bottled water instead. Saying that bowl’s been spiked so many times, it was starting to taste like mouthwash.
Then he . . . hung out with me, protected me from the rowdy football players that crashed his house.
We mostly stayed on the quiet balcony. Talked about Silas quite a bit.
He almost sounded jealous of his friend, kept mentioning that the hockey thing changed him and that he’s going to forget all about us.
Instantly, I knew I was a fool for showing up. Because if Jasper thought Silas would forget him—his best friend—where did it leave me?
Well, it led me to Jasper’s bedroom. And Max nine months later.
The irony is, it was Jasper who disappeared after that—not Silas. He had all sorts of plans that didn’t involve a baby. His parents came by one night to offer me—or really my parents—a generous amount of money to not “ruin the boy’s future.”
Silas might have had big dreams, but he’d never turn his back on the people he loved. He didn’t abandon his family. He’d been here for the big moments.
Dallas and Wilder fill me in every so often since I started working on the ranch. I don’t bring him up. But they both remember our shenanigans as kids. And as much as I sometimes reminisce myself, you start to wonder if they ever saw me—or Silas for that matter—as anything but kids.
I push the door open to the ranch office. A radio crackles low near Ginger’s desk. Sometimes I wonder if she just needs the white noise to fill the space more than anything else.
“There you are. Was just about to send a search party for you.”
I tilt my head to the back room. “What search party? Jack?”
She glances back. “Jack and Brett around here somewhere.”
I perk my brows, since those two rarely leave their stations. “That’s quite the party.” I clock out and set my timecard back. “I’ve got to go pick up Max. The school aftercare closes in thirty minutes.”
She shoos me away. “Go, go. Oh.” She pulls on a clipboard. “The Danbury family stopped by to pay for their lesson. Mr. D said something about you gipping his son twelve minutes and the sister twenty.”
I sigh. “She’s seven and shouldn’t be riding more than thirty minutes anyway. An hour is too much.”
She looks up at me from behind her glasses. “I’m just the messenger. These are paid lessons though.”
I groan. “I know, Ginger. I was a little . . . off today.”
She watches me with an incomparable patience.
“I found Silas in the stables this morning.” I release a breath.
She takes off her glasses giving me a smirk. “How’d that go?”
Ginger was around all those years ago, the woman was as intuitive back then as she is now. She probably knew about my crush. And she’s the only one who knows who Max’s father is. Someone Silas hasn’t spoken to in years—or so she tells me.
I shake my head like it’s nothing. “It was just . . . unexpected. Startling, actually.”
Her brows furrow.
“I should elaborate. He was standing in front of Tucker’s stall and he must have troubled him somehow.”
Her face falls. “Oh, the poor thing. That’s his horse, you know?”
I wince. “I know.”
Her face falls in what appears to be a painful memory. “Hasn’t ridden him in ages.” Her eyes lift to mine with a pointed look. “If only we had someone on staff he trusts to help him get back on.”
I plaster a grin. “Unfortunately, I’m booked up for the rest of the season.”
Ginger turns and I bite my bottom lip as I imagine how he felt when his own horse rejected him. That’s the kind of thing that breaks my heart no matter who you are.
The drive home always takes longer than it should, mostly because the road wound through the older part of town where the county never bothered fixing potholes or adding streetlights.
The headlights of my truck wash over the building’s worn brick exterior and rusty stairwell.
It’s a little run down. But it’s cheap. Dad and I sold the house to help pay for his care facility.
Not that the house was in much better shape, but we got enough for it to get him settled.
The one bedroom I got Max and me a year ago isn’t awful. It isn’t great either. But we don’t need anything glamorous right now.
It’s quiet. Safe. A little bit of a trek to the ranch and the elementary school, but we plan ahead in the mornings.
Spend more than I’d like on gas, but I didn’t have many other options. Closer places were newer, fixed up, or flat-out out of my price range.
“How was your day?” I ask Max as he takes his shoes off and sets his backpack on the kitchen table to start homework. I turn on the oven knowing it’s going to be a while before it gets hot.
“Everyone at school is talking about Silas Thorne being back in town. Did you know he’s injured?”
“I heard.”
“Danny snuck his phone to school and showed us the video. It looked painful. You wanna see it? I know how to find it.” He points to my phone.
I push it aside and return to the faucet to wash produce. “No phones. I use it for work, not to let dumb videos fry my brain.”
“Mom, it’s one video. It’s not going to make me stupid.”
Christ. The kid’s already talking to me like a teenager.
“And why does Danny already have a phone?” I ask, knowing the answer is going to annoy me.
“Because his parents are cool.”
“Hm.” I set the veggies on the board and start chopping. “We’ll see just how cool they are when his grades start dropping.”
“Have you seen him around the ranch? Do you know where he’s staying? If you do, can you get a picture for me?”
My heart sinks a little. Not because there’s no way I’m getting a picture of Silas for him, but because he wants to feel a part of something. And right now, that something is the Silas Thorne being in town.
I consider it briefly because I’d do anything to keep my son happy. Then it hits me.
Silas doesn’t know about Max. He barely even knew I worked on his family’s ranch until he saw me last fall.
It’s not like it’s a giant secret. Jasper could have very well told him that he hooked up with Storm Dalton at the party and knocked her up.
Then again, Jasper was pretty adamant about me keeping the father’s identity hidden to avoid painting him as some deadbeat to the town he was quick to flee from after it happened. Or one of his brothers could have easily mentioned Max’s existence.
No. Silas being back in town means nothing and there’s no point in telling him something that’s none of his business. He didn’t care about me then and he’s not going to now.
I hate Band-Aids. Don’t need to keep ripping them off myself.
Because Silas will be gone as soon as he’s cleared to play. I can make it a few more weeks. Keeping myself and Max out of his sight.
“I don’t think so, sweetie. I think Silas is here to get away from all that. Best not to bother him.” I turn before his disappointment can sway me otherwise.