Chapter 13 #2
‘Yeah, there really is a horse there,’ he tells me, his mouth twitching like he’s fighting a smile.
‘Oh, thank God, I thought I was in a coma,’ I reply.
‘You’re still very much conscious, ma’am,’ he reassures me.
Ma’am! His voice makes me feel tingly. I don’t think I’ve ever been called ma’am – I get the odd ‘love’ from taxi drivers.
The cowboy tips his hat so I can see his face a little clearer.
‘This is Biscuits,’ he tells me.
‘The horse is called Biscuits?’ I repeat back to him. Am I failing a concussion test right now?
‘Sure is,’ he says. ‘She’s sweet as ’em too.’
Fuck me, he sounds like Matthew McConaughey and he looks like, well, Matthew McConaughey, a younger, buffer version, from his romcom peak.
‘Why do you have a horse?’ I ask.
‘Why were you in the fountain?’ he replies with a smile and a shrug.
I don’t have a good answer for that. I suppose something close to the truth makes sense.
‘My hand felt swollen, my ring was stuck on, I gave it a tug and fell.’
‘Well, here, let me help you,’ he says. He crouches down in front of me and takes my hand in his. ‘Wow, that’s really on here, huh? Just try not to think about it, look at me, look into my eyes.’
I do and I can feel myself getting lost. It’s like I’m floating, being drawn into him, I can feel my face moving closer to his.
‘There we go,’ he says.
The ring gives all of a sudden. He presses it into the palm of my hand, so that I can hold it tightly.
‘Thank you,’ I tell him, reaching out to wipe some sludge from his face, realising that it must have come from me when he lifted me out.
‘Anytime, miss,’ he replies. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘I don’t think so,’ I tell him. ‘Just mortified.’
‘Yeah, that’ll sting,’ he replies. ‘Beats a broken bone though.’
I glance around, suddenly remembering where we are. People are staring.
The woman with the pram. The influencer. The tourists. Everyone is looking at us.
I suppose, in their defence, a wet woman being rescued from a fountain by a cowboy with a horse is not a common sight.
‘Oh my God,’ I whisper. ‘Everyone is staring.’
The cowboy follows my gaze then looks back at me. His eyes sparkle with amusement.
‘We are both soaking wet,’ he reminds me. ‘And I do have a horse.’
‘It’s so embarrassing.’
‘It’ll be okay,’ he reassures me.
‘That’s easy for you to say. You look like you’re doing a photo shoot. I look like I’m doing a public safety ad – I’m what not to do,’ I babble.
He chuckles, deep and warmly, and it sends a little jolt of something through my body.
‘Can you stand?’ he asks.
‘I can,’ I say, even though my dignity cannot.
I stand up but my foot twists slightly on the slick stone. Pain shoots up my leg and I make a small, squeaky noise. You couldn’t pay me to be cool right now.
I wobble, and then I fall – straight into his arms.
His arms catch me automatically, wrapping around my waist, holding my body close to his to keep me steady. My hands grab his shoulders before I can even think about what I’m doing.
We end up chest to chest, my face tipped up toward his, his breath warm against my cheek.
For a second, we freeze. I swear, his eyes flick to my mouth.
This is almost a moment. A proper romcom moment. The kind that comes with a soundtrack and soft lighting. And then I remember that we have an audience again.
‘Sorry,’ I blurt, pulling back too quickly.
He loosens his grip but doesn’t let go completely, probably making sure I don’t fall again. ‘Don’t be sorry,’ he says quietly.
‘I think I’ve hurt my ankle,’ I say, as though it weren’t obvious.
‘You want help gettin’ back to the main house?’ he asks.
‘Erm, please,’ I reply, with no other options, although it’s a long way to limp, even with help.
I take a step and the pain shoots again.
‘Ow, ow, ow,’ I cry out.
‘Don’t worry, you don’t have to walk,’ he insists.
I narrow my eyes.
‘Are you going to carry me?’ I joke.
Carrying me out of the fountain was one thing, but it really is a long way back to the house.
‘I’m not going to carry you,’ he replies. ‘Not all the way.’
Then, without warning, he bends forward, scoops me up under my knees with one arm, supports my back with the other, and lifts me like I weigh absolutely nothing.
I notice a few of the onlookers audibly react – little gasps, claps, cheers, even. Everyone loves a hero, I guess.
He only carries me for a few steps, to where Biscuits is dutifully waiting.
‘You ever ridden before?’ he asks.
‘A horse?’ I reply.
Obviously a fucking horse. Why the fuck did I ask that?
He smiles and nods.
‘No,’ I say.
He lifts me up and settles me onto Biscuits’ back, side-saddle, with the ease of a man who probably does dreamy hero shit like this all the time. I think it probably comes with the territory, having a face and a body like that.
I clutch the saddle (or whatever is there) like my life depends on it.
The cowboy takes the reins, his hand resting lightly on the horse’s neck.
‘It’s okay, she likes you,’ he reassures me.
‘How do you know?’
‘She didn’t bite you,’ he replies.
‘Wow,’ I blurt.
‘She’s a horse,’ he says. ‘They’re honest creatures. Loyal though. If you’re okay by me, you’ll be okay by her.’
I glance down at him. I can’t help but stare at his broad shoulders. His shirt clings slightly where the fountain water has soaked him. His muscles look huge, his hands capable of almost anything. I’m trying not to think too hard about it. I’m already dizzy.
I can feel eyes on me as we move. People stare openly now, phones out, smiles wide. I hear someone whisper, ‘Oh my God, how romantic,’ and another person say, ‘It’s like a film.’
I suppose I’d rather that was the takeaway, focusing on how dreamy the cowboy is, rather than how embarrassing I am.
This is absurd but… I don’t know, kind of magical too. I feel like I’m living out every woman’s fantasy now, if we forget the bleak reality he’s leading me towards. At least the ring isn’t still stuck on my finger.
I’ve spent the last few days feeling like I was being repeatedly punched in the heart. Today, I’m sitting on a horse, being led through a beautiful garden by an actual cowboy. My life isn’t serious at all, is it?
We reach the edge of the garden where the path opens toward the main house.
Rosewood emerges, its grand stone walls and big windows reminding me that I’m back to reality.
‘Thanks so much, I can make it from here,’ I tell him.
The cowboy glances up at me.
‘You sure you’re alright, miss? I can hitch her up…’
‘No, really, it’s okay,’ I insist, suddenly aware of the time, of the fact that Andy and Cordelia are probably waiting for me. ‘I can’t thank you enough for saving me.’
‘Glad to be of service,’ he replies.
We reach the terrace steps. He halts Biscuits, then lifts me down carefully, hands at my waist, gently setting me on the ground.
My ankle protests again, but it doesn’t feel as bad as it did before. I think I’ve probably just rolled it.
He steadies me with a hand at my elbow.
‘Careful,’ he murmurs.
I look up at him and my breath catches slightly.
His eyes are still bright with amusement, but there’s something else there too – something gentler, like he’s genuinely concerned about me. Honestly, I could swoon.
Then I glance left and notice movement through the glass doors. Andy and Cordelia, waiting for me. Thankfully, they’re not looking this way.
‘Thank you,’ I say, voice suddenly rushed as I hobble away. ‘I have to go, I’m late.’
‘Sure thing,’ he replies. ‘Maybe I’ll see you around?’
‘Maybe,’ I call back as I head inside.
I was lucky that my bag – and the ring box – didn’t fall in with me. A quick wipe and the ring is back in its box, like nothing happened. Sadly there’s little I can do for myself. I am soaking wet and limping.
I don’t look back to see if the cowboy is watching. If I do, I’ll trip and probably fall into another body of water. That’s just my luck at the moment.
Andy looks over as I approach them.
His whole face lights up, the way it always does when he sees me, and for one aching moment I forget he’s engaged. But then I notice Cordelia. And he notices that I’m soaking wet.
‘Whit!’ he says as he approaches me. ‘What happened to you?’
Cordelia follows him.
‘Oh my gosh! Are you okay?’ she asks.
‘Yes,’ I say brightly, forcing myself to smile. ‘Fine. Great. I… er… took a dip in the fountain, while I was waiting.’
Andy’s eyebrows shoot up.
‘In what?’
I gesture vaguely.
‘In the fountain,’ I say, like it’s not a big deal.
There’s a beat of silence. Then Andy laughs.
‘You fell in, didn’t you?’ he asks. He knows me so well. ‘How did you fall in the fountain?’
‘I was… admiring the water feature,’ I insist.
‘Whitney! That must have been freezing!’ Cordelia replies. ‘And smelly.’
She pulls a face.
‘It was invigorating,’ I lie.
Andy’s grin softens into concern.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asks.
‘No,’ I say. ‘Just wet.’
Cordelia laughs politely, like she’s not sure if I’m joking.
Andy’s gaze drops to my hands.
‘Did you…? Is it…?’
‘It’s okay,’ I reassure him.
His shoulders visibly relax.
‘Thank God,’ he says with a sigh of relief.
I pull the ring box out of my bag discreetly, keeping it close to my body like it’s contraband, and pass it to Andy in a quick movement that makes me feel like I’m doing a drug deal in a hotel lobby.
His fingers close around it. His eyes meet mine as we do the handover, while Cordelia is looking out of the window.
‘Thank you,’ he says quietly.
‘So, what’s the plan?’ Cordelia asks, turning back to us.
Andy’s smile turns boyish and kind of adorable.
He steps back, clears his throat and then gets down on one knee.
Oh, God, no, please don’t do this in front of me.
‘Cordelia…’ he starts.
No, no, no. Stop. Let me leave first. Let me crawl back into the fountain. I don’t want to be part of this moment.
He already proposed. They’re already engaged. Can the universe please spare me, just this once?
He opens the box. The ring glints under the chandelier.
Cordelia brings her hands to her mouth.