Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Strawberry
I ’m surprised by Oliver’s offer to come with me. “Oh. Uh. You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” He clears his throat. “Shouldn’t I be more involved if I’m helping Ryan with the other half of this proposal?”
I shrug. “I guess so. Fine.”
I get in his truck and drop my phone into one of the two cupholders between us. He does the same with his. I tell him where to go, and a few minutes later, we arrive at the ranch.
I wrinkle my nose as I step out of the truck. It’s not a bad smell per se; it just smells like animals and the great outdoors. I’m more of a city girl. I don’t usually venture out into the countryside, so I’m not used to things like this.
A couple of horses stand on the other side of a nearby fence. One of them snorts and scratches at the ground with its hoof. I stop walking.
Oliver comes around the side of the truck. “Are you okay?” he asks. “You seem nervous.”
“It’s that horse,” I tell him, keeping my voice low so I don’t spook it. “What if it charges at us?”
“There’s a fence between us,” he says. “I think you’ll be okay.”
I look at the fence. It’s a wooden rail fence with wide slats. “The horse is much taller than the fence. He could jump over.”
“The horse is not going to attack you,” he says. I can tell that he’s trying to keep from laughing.
I elbow him in the side. “How do you know that?”
“Because these are domesticated horses,” he says. “We’ll be fine.”
“You don’t know that,” I say. “What if this is a wild horse that just happened to jump over the fence and sneak into their property?”
He smirks, watching the horse. It lowers its large head to the ground and gnaws on a piece of grass by the fence post. Its tail swishes.
“Right,” he says. “Because there are so many wild horses running through Saratoga.”
“You never know. There could be.”
“Why are you here if you’re afraid of horses?” he asks.
“It’s not for me,” I remind him. “It’s for Tina. As long as I don’t have to touch them or ride them, I’ll be fine.” I shudder.
“You must be Priscilla.” We both turn to see an older gentleman walking toward us. His boots are caked with dirt and his jeans are torn and dusty.
“That’s me,” I tell him. “And you must be Frank.”
I introduce him to Oliver, and then he offers to take us down to the stable to meet the rest of the horses. The stable is well-lit, and nicer than I expect. There are rows of horses of all different sizes and colors.
“The gray horses you asked about are back here,” Frank says, leading us around a corner.
“Gray?” I ask, alarmed. I exchange a look with Oliver. He frowns. “I’m looking for two white horses.”
I bite my lip as I follow Frank around the corner. He stops in front of one of the stalls and looks at me. “What you call white, I call gray,” he says.
“I think there’s been a mistake,” I say. “The horses need to be white.”
I’m already in panic mode as I approach the stall.
The fair is coming up, and I don’t have much time to find two other white horses.
Frank holds his hand out in a sweeping motion, gesturing toward the horse in the stall.
I turn to look. A white stallion stands at the back.
He shakes his head and lets out a grunt, then steps closer to us.
I put my hand over my chest and let out a breath. I look at Frank. “Are you messing with me? This horse is white.”
Frank chuckles. “That’s what most people who aren’t around horses much say. This here is a gray Arabian stallion.”
I look at Oliver. “Am I colorblind? This horse is white, right?”
Oliver shrugs. “It looks white to me.”
“The second one is over here,” Frank says. I follow him to the next stall. This horse looks identical to the first one. Both are white horses with white manes.
“Why do you call them gray?” I ask.
“Both of these guys were born black, believe it or not,” Frank says.
“They were both fully gray by the time they were a few years old. Their hair may look white, but the skin underneath is still dark. In fact, I’m willing to bet that every white horse you’ve ever seen was actually gray. A truly white horse is extremely rare.”
“But… they are white, right?”
“Depends on how you look at it,” Frank says.
I look at the horses again. “They look white.”
“I think Tina will be happy,” Oliver agrees. “She doesn’t have to know that they’re gray. Hell, the horses at Disney that pulled the carriage for her parents were probably gray, too.”
“They probably were,” Frank says, nodding.
I look back at the horses. Both are sticking their heads as far as they can out of their stalls.
I take a step back and stand against the far wall so they can’t reach me.
Oliver reaches his hand out and touches one of their muzzles.
I cringe, imagining that the horse might bite his hand off. Their heads are so huge.
He looks over his shoulder at me and smirks. I’m about to tell him that it’s not funny, but then he reaches his hand out like he wants me to take it. I frown.
“Come here,” he says. “They’re not that scary. I’ll show you.”
I glance at Frank before I take a slow step forward. Oliver’s arm comes around my back, guiding me closer to the horse like I might run away. And honestly, I might.
He takes my hand when I’m next to him and holds it up to the horse. I begin to resist, pulling my hand back, but he stops me. He keeps his voice low. “Do you trust me?”
I take a second to think about it. Do I?
I guess I don’t imagine he would allow a horse to bite me.
I nod, then relax my arm again. He guides it the rest of the way to the horse’s face until my palm is flat against the top of its muzzle.
I smile and let out a shocked squeal, because I can’t believe I’m touching a horse.
The horse, startled by my squeal, raises his head up and snorts. I stumble backward and almost fall, but Oliver catches me.
“You’re fine,” he says, laughing. “You’re safe.”
With his arm still around my waist, he moves me back over to the safety of the far wall.
The horse goes back to minding its own business, no longer interested in seeing what we’re doing.
Oliver’s hand stays on my hip. I wonder if it’s because he’s forgotten that it’s there. Maybe he thinks I’m still scared.
Frank clears his throat. “Any questions for me?”
“How does this work?” I ask. “Do you need special permission to do carriage rides at the fair?”
He shakes his head. “I already have all of that taken care of. We do pony rides for the kids every year. I know the right people to talk to about doing a carriage ride. Shouldn’t be a problem. We’ve done it before.”
“Great,” I say. “What do you need from me, then? Other than a deposit.”
“Just the day and time you want these two guys there,” he says of the two white—or gray—stallions.
I give him the details, and then Oliver and I head back to his truck. Both of our phones buzz at the same time when we get inside, the sound amplified by the cupholders they’re in. I exchange a look with him, and then we pick up our phones to see who is texting us.
“Tina,” I say.
“Ryan,” he says.
They must be together. I read the text I got from Tina.
Tina
Ryan and I are going up to his mom’s cabin next weekend. Do you and Oliver want to come with us? It would be so much fun to spend the weekend, just the four of us!
I look up at Oliver. “Did you just get an invite to spend a weekend at a cabin with Tina and Ryan?”
He nods. He puts his phone back down in the cupholder. “What should we say?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. ‘Sorry, we’re busy’?”
“It might not be so bad to go,” he says. “It’s just for the weekend. Could be fun.”
I bite my lip, thinking about it. “That’s a whole weekend of having to pretend to be in a relationship. You don’t think that’s a bit much? That, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend the whole weekend with me. You can say no if you want to.”
He frowns. “Why wouldn’t I want to spend the weekend with you?”
“I just thought you might have better things to do than hold my hand all weekend.” I say this with a roll of my eyes and a half-hearted laugh.
He smirks. “I sure hope I’ll get to do more than just hold your hand.”
I almost choke. “Oliver. You can’t say things like that.”
He leans back in his seat and smiles. “Why not?”
There’s something about the way he looks at me that makes my body feel like it’s on fire. I’m sure my face is turning red. I hope that it’s dark enough in the truck that he can’t tell. “Because?—”
Before I can continue, Frank taps on the window. He appears just in time, saving me from having to answer. I roll down the window to see what he wants.
“I forgot to give you this contract to sign,” Frank says. He holds up a piece of paper, then passes it to me through the window. “Mostly liability stuff,” he explains. “But it also protects you in case there’s any issues on my end.”
I look over the contract, which seems pretty standard and straightforward, but my mind is on what Oliver just said.
I can’t believe he would imply that we might take this fake relationship a step further.
My mind flashes to us in a room together in a secluded cabin, him rolling on top of me and…
my face flushes. Or maybe that’s not what he means at all.
I know that he’s just messing with me, but that doesn’t matter.
Now he expects me to tell him why he can’t say things like that, and if I tell him that it’s because I’m not going to have sex with someone I’m only fake-dating, I’ll never live to hear the end of it when he laughs at me and says he only meant a little kissing like we’ve already done a few times.
He doesn’t take his eyes off me even as I sign the contract and hand it back to Frank.
“Because?” he prods once Frank is gone.
“I forgot what we were talking about.” I slide my seatbelt on and stare at the windshield, waiting for him to drive.