Chapter Twenty Three
Colt
“Where the hell are we going, Colt?” Maeve's voice reaches me clearly despite my horse being a fair few paces in front of her and Clementine. I glance behind me, seeing Maeve fully confident in the saddle, with the mountain backdrop adding to how breathtaking the sight of her is.
“You’ll see when we get there!” I shout back, trying to pull Athena, my pale coat mare, to a slower trot, but failing. She is clearly just as eager to get to our destination as I am, continuing onto a narrower grassy path, sloping down to a small area nestled in the mountains.
The sun is high in the sky, not a cloud in sight, just the occasional shadows of trees giving us a break from the heat beating down on us.
The June sun is coming a little earlier than usual; and none of us expected these temperatures.
I am just gladwe are finished for the day—earlier than usual thanks to Wade, who has given everyone permission to do the main ranch tasks and be done with the day.
Better to do the bare minimum one day than have a bunch of sun-stroked cowboys moaning or getting ill for days to come.
Taking full advantage of the clear afternoon, I rushed to the main house at lunch.
Maeve was sitting amongst the other hands; her smile infectious as everyone around her was laughing and smiling.
All of which continued when I asked Maeve to pack her swimming gear and meet me in the barn at 3 p.m. The room filled with a lot of mocking “Ooooh’s” and wolf whistles.
Teasing me for the fact that I want to spend time with my friend. The friend I think I have feelings for.
The fact that Maeve leaves in less than three months doesn’t escape me, but I am tired of thinking about the future.
I’m taking what my therapist says and practicing living in the moment.
I have found myself approaching one of the most beautiful scenic places on the ranch about to confess my feelings to the girl I like—if I don’t chicken out, that is.
The path begins to widen, revealing a large lake.
It almost appears as though it is glittering when the sunlight reflects off the water’s surface.
Wildflowers of nearly every colour line the edge of the lake, weaving off to random patches among the grass that cover the whole area, apart from the man-made path from decades of people walking on it.
A gasp comes from behind me, “This is fucking stunning!”
Clementine halts to a stop beside mine.
“We are going over there,” I point to a lone tree, the only place near this side of the lake that has some shade. Just like in my childhood, I decide that we will set up there. Tying the horses on a long rope so they also get to enjoy themselves.
Riding side by side in silence, Maeve’s heads whips in all directions, taking in her surroundings, but my eyes are firmly on her.
Even when laying a large blanket down and setting out the small little picnic I had packed, I cannot pull my eyes away—especially when she strips down into the world's tiniest bikini, diving straight into the lake without a second thought.
I don’t join her, even though I really, really want to.
But given how hard I am right now, the last thing I want to do is stand in my thin swimming shorts, exposing my feelings for her before I even have a chance to tell her myself.
So, I just sit on the blanket, shuffling out of my jeans, praying that by the time she comes to join me, I have gained some composure.
We spend a solid hour just chilling in the sun.
Meave flitters between swimming, reading, and eating.
I end up getting in the lake for a short while, not wanting to waste the opportunity for a good swim.
When I come back to the blanket, grabbing the bottle of water I had packed for myself, Maeve lets out a sigh, flinging herself on her back and looking up at the sky.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing, really. This is just perfect!” She says, almost in a daze.
“Don’t have anything like this in London, and I just know that somewhere like this is where I am meant to be.
No big skyscrapers and air pollution. Just sun, wildlife, and fresh air.
At least when we are away from the barn, because that shit stinks over there. ” I laugh; she isn’t wrong.
“Why go back to London then?”
“I suppose it is all the logistics of it. After the scheme finishes, my visa runs out, and I would need to go back to the drawing board. But this,” her arms come up and she places them behind her head.
“This is perfect. I think I have found out that I am a country girl at heart. Just need to start working out the logistics and find somewhere where I can put down roots.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” I say, casually adding myself. “I am sure there will always be a place in Wildbrook Hollow for you. Everyone who has met you has loved you. Kinda hard not to.”
She lifts herself up on her elbows, giving me a small smile.
“Tell me about this place.”
“What you mean?”
“You look lighter here, hard not to notice but this is the most relaxed I have ever seen you,” she says.
I rock ever so slightly, so much so that it is probably undetectable to her, but the back-and-forth motions soothe my nerves.
I do feel at peace here, because it is one of the few places on the ranch that has not been tainted with the dramas of my childhood.
“I used to come here with my parents when things were good.” I look at her, but she says nothing. I continue, “It’s the only place I have only pure good memories of them both. Where I was loved by both.”
Silence hangs in the air.
“Of course, then mom left. We stopped coming here. Wade just… became a loner. Not wanting to come back here despite the times I asked as a child. He just wanted to be by himself and has done for the past twenty years. Just working and sitting alone on that porch. Even gave up bull riding, which, if you ask me, is a little too late. Should have left when she was still here, maybe she would have stayed.”
“Well, it’s good that you have this place. It’s beautiful, Colt.”
There she goes, always seeing the good in everything I say. Ignoring how I always seem to put a negative twist on things. A part of my fucked-up brain that I clearly need to work more on.
I build up the courage, leaning over to hold her hand, “You’re beautiful, Maeve.” I say softly.
The words have been sitting in my chest for weeks.
Maeve pulls back gently, sitting up fully now. “Colt…”
Panic floods me. Fuck. The way she says my name tells me everything before the rest of the words even come. What have I done?
I rock back and forth slightly.
“I thought…” My voice trails off, not really sure how to finish. I don’t even know what I thought.
I thought you felt it too.
I thought maybe this could be something.
I thought I'd got it right for once.
Maeve shifts closer, not further away, and somehow that makes it worse.
“Colt,” she says softly. “I care about you. So much.” Her voice is careful. Gentle. Like she’s handing something fragile.
Me.
“And that's exactly why I need you to listen to what I'm going to say next.”
I nod once.
“You are one of the best people I've met since coming here,” she continues. “You've made this place feel safe. You've made me laugh when I've wanted to cry. You've become one of my favourite people.”
Hope sparks again.
“But I don't feel that way about you.”
And then it dies, again.
“Why not?” My voice is sharp and quick.
“Because I'm leaving in a few months,” she says gently. “If I wasn't leaving...” she continues carefully, “I still don't think I'd want this, Colt. Not because there's anything wrong with you. There isn't. But because you're my friend, and I don't want to lose that.”
My brain wants to reject the answer immediately. This can’t be happening.
The world narrows, and I'm still rocking, the movement doing its best to soothe me, but failing.
Not because there’s anything wrong with you. That’s what people say when there is. I know, because everything is wrong with me. That’s why people leave me or ignore me.
It’s just more rejection. Another person who doesn’t want me. Unlovable. Unwanted.
Too much.
Too intense.
Too needy.
Maeve's still talking, but the words blur together beneath the roar in my head.
Another person leaving.
Another person choosing something else.
Another person who doesn't want me.
Then there’s warmth on my arms.
Maeve has positioned herself on her knees in front of me, her face level with mine.
“Colt.”
Warm hands wrap around my forearms, not tight but firm enough to steady me. I finally stop rocking.
“Hey. Look at me.”
I can't.
“Please.”
Her plea cuts through my inner monologue. All of a sudden, I can hear her clearly again, telling me to breathe. “Breathe for me, ok? In… and out,” she repeats as I follow her instructions.
The tightness in my chest begins to loosen.
“There you go,” she says softly. “Keep going. You’re ok. I’ve got you.”
The feeling of her hands against my arms centres me. I don’t want her to let go.
“Colt, please listen to me.” One hand drops, and I immediately grab her wrist before she can pull away, needing the contact. I look at her and nod, still finding it hard to breathe like I don’t do it every damn day.
“I know where your mind is going right now, and this is nothing to do with you not being loved, good enough, or whatever other negative thoughts are going through your head.”
I hate, but love, that she knows me so well in the little time we have been around each other. Someone finally understands me, but at the same time, I am embarrassed that I’ve shown her this—this messy side of me.
“This isn't because you're not enough.”
My throat tightens.
“It isn't because you're unlovable. You’re important to me, Colt,” she continues, voice cracking slightly. “And our friendship has made this whole place feel like home, which is so important to me. So, I ain’t pushing you away because I don’t care.
I’m trying to protect what we have because I do care.
Does that make sense? I hope it does because I’m not always one for words,” she laughs, offering me the softest smiles. The sight of it pulls me from my panic.
I swallow hard. “It makes sense, Maeve. I’m okay, promise.”
But even as I say it, as her words sink in, all I can focus on is the fact that she cares. And, to me, that is enough to cling on to hope.
It’s only been a few months; she just needs time to see what I see in us. That this is deeper than just a friendship.