Chapter 7
Ash stood with Midnight’s reins in his hand at the entrance to the arena. The mare whinnied and snorted as Boone and Willow raced by.
“I know, girl,” he soothed, stroking her shoulder. “I want to get out there too, but can we just watch for another minute or two?”
Something in his tone must have calmed the mare because she let loose what sounded like a sigh and then all but stilled as Ash marveled at Willow not only holding her own against his raised-on-the-back-of-a-horse brother, but also smoking his ass, keeping at least a nose ahead of him at every turn.
She caught a glimpse of him as she approached the barn and pulled up on the reins, but she overshot him due to Holiday’s speed.
Boone, looking grateful for getting to call it quits, brought Cirrus to a halt right in front of his younger brother and his mare. He lifted his hat with one hand and swiped his arm across his forehead with the other.
“A heads-up that she was an ace in the saddle would have been nice!” Boone called down to him.
Ash laughed. “What’s the matter, old man? You outta shape?”
His brother plopped his hat back down on his head and glared at him. “You want to take it back to the ring?” he challenged.
Willow and Holiday trotted back toward the two brothers. “What did I say about working your shit out?”
Ash stuck his foot in Midnight’s stirrup and climbed onto her saddle. “No hitting. Isn’t that right…old man?” he goaded his brother again.
Boone growled, but his shoulders relaxed. “Good. I don’t have it in me for another round.” Then he shook his head and laughed.
Ash laughed too. It would take a lot for his relationship with either of his brothers to feel even ten percent like it did when they were growing up. But laughing and harassing his brother—good-naturedly, of course—felt at least like a small step in the right direction.
“Should we all hit the trail to the clearing?” Willow asked as if she was just getting started with their riding adventure.
Boone raised his hands in defeat. “Count me out. Kara will be up from her nap soon. I promised her and Casey we’d play beauty salon before dinner, which basically means Kara gets to paint my face with her mama’s makeup.”
“Did you lose a bet or something?” Willow asked.
Boone narrowed his eyes at his brother and then turned his attention back to Willow. “Not exactly. But every time my daughter learns a new…um… colorful word on my watch, I have to play client while Kara pretends to be her mama.”
Willow’s wide-eyed gaze volleyed between the two men until Ash finally spoke up.
“She might have gotten ‘shit’ from me, but ‘goddamn’ was all you. I think it had something to do with The Vampire Diaries ?”
Boone mouthed a choice directive at his brother and then flipped him the bird in case he hadn’t gotten the message.
“You still want to hit the clearing if it’s just me?” Ash asked, ready and expecting to be turned down. But Willow surprised him with a shrug.
“I guess I wouldn’t mind the company.” She turned her attention to Boone. “Enjoy your makeover. I hope I get to meet Casey and your swearin’ baby girl while I’m in town.”
The departing Murphy grinned. “Casey would love that. My swearin’ baby girl would too. How about when Eli and Beth are back in town? We can fire up Eli’s grill, introduce you to the chickens… Colt and Jenna should come too, of course. It’ll be one big family reunion.”
“It’s a date!” Willow exclaimed.
Ash cleared his throat. “Yeah. Great idea, big bro,” he lied. Because finding his way back to some semblance of normalcy with his own brothers was one thing. But how much did Colt Morgan know about Willow’s time on Ash’s tour…or why she left? He guessed that in several days, he was about to find out. And he doubted there’d be boxing gloves or headgear to cushion any potential blows.
And with that, Boone and Cirrus disappeared back into the barn, leaving Ash and Willow to chase the soon-to-be setting sun on a ride to and from the clearing.
“Are we racing too?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Let’s take our time.”
Ash tilted his head toward the sky that was now swathed in streaks of blue, orange, and pink. Then his eyes fell back on her, a girl on her horse, backlit by the golden hour.
“What?” Willow asked, and he realized he was staring.
He huffed out a laugh. “Nothing.”
She bristled. “Fine. Don’t tell me what you were thinking when you obviously have something on your mind.”
Ash grabbed the straw hat that had been resting on Midnight’s withers and placed it on his head. “You don’t really want to know what I’m thinking, Wills…Sorry. Willow .” He tapped his heels and urged the mare forward. “Come on. Let’s enjoy the ride.”
And they did. At least, Ash did. They took it slow, just like she’d wanted, and made their way to the clearing in what for him felt like an almost comfortable silence. There was still tension between them, but he could feel something in her demeanor softening.
They had a bit of sunlight left when they reached their destination, so they both dismounted, tied off the horses, and then made their way to the giant maple. Willow lay down just outside the shade, tossing her hat to the side and crossing her hands behind her head.
“Do you ever watch the clouds at the end of the day like this? How they change color and shape and then sometimes disappear?” She tilted her head toward where Ash still stood. “Or am I the only weirdo who does that?”
Was that an invitation to join her? She wasn’t telling him to piss off or hitting him over the head with pottery, so he decided that it was and lay down beside her. He set his hat on the grass between them, ensuring he was a safe couple of feet away.
“You’re not a weirdo,” he finally replied. “At least not for meditating with the clouds.”
She grabbed his hat and tossed it at his head.
Ash laughed, and then they both sank into the quiet as wispy white cirrus clouds slowly sailed through a sea of pink until they seemed to vanish into mist.
“What if I did want to know what you were thinking?” Willow asked after neither of them had spoken for several minutes.
Ash answered her but kept his eyes trained on the sky above. “Then I’d probably have fed you some corny line that belonged in a song about how you looked beautiful backlit by the setting sun. But I know I have no right to look at you like that, so I kept my damned mouth shut.”
He hoped she knew the bite in his tone was aimed at no one other than himself.
The air went still again for a handful of seconds before she said anything in response.
“Do you regret what happened four years ago?” Just like that, after two days of dancing around the elephant that was far too big to even fit in the room, Willow was done pulling punches.
“Every day,” he admitted. Though she had to know that much. He didn’t blame her for walking away from him and never looking back, but he’d made it clear on more than one occasion that he hated himself for how it all went down.
In his peripheral vision, he saw her roll onto her side to face him, but he wasn’t ready to do the same. So he focused on the clouds while she apparently focused on him.
“Hating you is exhausting,” she told him.
He sighed. “If that’s true, then there must be a shit ton of exhausted people in my life.”
She collapsed back onto her back. “Your brother doesn’t hate you,” she continued.
Ash crossed one ankle over the other and laughed. “Is that why his first instinct was to kick the shit out of me after not seeing me for years?”
He didn’t know why he was perpetuating this conversation. Ash hadn’t talked to anyone like this since… Well, he didn’t talk to anyone like this. He played the game, put on his public persona, gave the fans what they wanted, and gave his management team an ulcer. But it felt different when it was only him and her, just like it had four years ago. Even if the real him was a mess, he seemed to be dropping the act around Willow.
“It’s getting dark,” she finally said. “We should probably head back.”
He nodded, grabbed his hat, and climbed to his feet. Then he held out a hand for Willow, and she surprised him by taking it. Once on her feet, she pulled her hand free.
“I’m not the na?ve groupie you thought I was four years ago.”
His eyes widened. “Willow, I never thought—”
“Let me finish,” she interrupted.
Ash nodded and closed his mouth.
“For reasons beyond my wildest imagination, we work—as co-writers. But if we’re going to survive as cohabitants too, I need to stop putting so much energy and effort into the Ash Murphy anti-fan club.”
His brows furrowed. “Is that a thing?”
She nodded, expression earnest. “Oh yeah. I’m the founder, president, and social committee chair. We have online meetups every Wednesday night and do a pub crawl the first Saturday of every month.”
Ash stared at her, unblinking, and she left him hanging for several seconds until she finally burst out laughing.
“I know I deserved that,” he admitted. “But you just made me realize that such a club probably does exist, and it’s going to be really hard not to fall into a Google rabbit hole later trying to confirm it.”
She shrugged. “If you sign up with my referral code, it’s half off the joining fee.” Then she strode toward Holiday, leaving him there to wonder…
“You’re kidding, right?” he called after her, following her back to his own horse. “I mean, at least about being president and founder?”
She hopped into her saddle and took a page from the Ash Murphy book, answering him with nothing more than a mischievous wink. Then she nudged Holiday with her heels and took off for the ranch before he even had a chance to untie Midnight from her tree.
When he finally made it back to the ranch, Holiday was already in her stall, no sign of Willow in the barn. He guessed she hadn’t wanted to take her time riding back with him…probably because it was Wednesday, and she had an anti-fan club meetup to attend.
He half expected to find her sitting at the breakfast bar, video chat open to greet the other members. But the house was empty, save for a page ripped from what he guessed was her songwriting notebook stuck to the fridge with a magnet.
Need some space. Heading out to see my brother and Jenna. Rain check on writing for tonight?
He nodded as if they were having an actual conversation. But that seemed to be the last thing Willow wanted. Space was good. Two days with Willow, and he was venturing into dangerous territory…in his head, the kind that made him wonder if her abandoning her hate might be the beginning of something like forgiveness.
Ash’s stomach grumbled, and he pulled out his phone to check the time. Then he opened his texting app and fired off a quick message to Boone before he talked himself out of it.
Ash: How about I pick up dinner for you, me, Casey, and Kara and bring it over?
Why did seeing the flashing ellipses make him more nervous than if his brother didn’t respond at all?
Boone: Will you let Kara paint your nails? Full disclosure…she’s 2. She does not stay in the lines.
Ash let out a relieved laugh.
Ash: Was going to get my nails done later this week, so she’s actually saving me a trip. And staying in the lines is so boring.
Boone: See you soon. Pick up whatever you want, but I wouldn’t kick a pizza out of bed. Or an order of garlic knots.
Ash found himself unexpectedly grinning. Did this mean his brother had forgiven him? Did it mean he’d forgiven his brother? Or maybe after their time in the ring and their forced chat—thanks to Willow—they could simply move forward.
One thing Ash knew for sure was that he wouldn’t be eating alone tonight or with anyone who stood to either make or lose money on whatever he said, did, or sang next. He’d be with family, and tonight that sounded better than any crowd cheering him on from below the stage.