The Impossible Art of Falling (Impossible Art #1) (11 page)

              Her heart still felt like it would fly right out of her chest as she walked into the dark aisle. Gatsby shuffled in his stall, the sounds of him swishing his tail and picking at his hay echoed all around her. She hurried down the concrete floor to his stall door, slipping inside without a sound. At once, she could feel her heart and her breathing slow. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let herself fall into him.

              “I didn’t think you were coming,” a voice whispered from the dark. Jena turned toward the sound and saw Luke standing in the aisle. She hadn’t even heard him leave his room.

              “I… I overslept. I… I had a dream.” She let her voice fade and turned her attention back to her horse, stroking his shoulder again.

              “Oh.” Luke’s voice was soft. “I figured that you… that you… that Kyle… I didn’t think you were going to come out tonight.” He jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and let his hair fall in front of his eyes. He looked like a little boy and that someone had just taken away his favorite toy.

              Jena’s eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed. She turned and placed her hands on the stall door.

              “You thought that Kyle…you thought that me and Kyle…” she laughed despite herself and shook her head, finding her voice. “Kyle certainly tries. He just won’t take no for an answer.”

              Relief flooded through him. Even if she never wanted him, at least she didn’t want to be with Kyle.

              “Kyle asked me out. Again, I might add,” Jena began again. “He seems determined to take me to town and show me around. I have absolutely no desire to do that.” She looked at Luke and saw a hurt look in his eyes. “I mean, at least not with him,” she corrected and then quickly turned back toward her horse, feeling her cheeks redden, embarrassed to be admitting her thoughts.

              The stall door clicked and Luke was immediately at her side, handing her a brush. They both began to brush Gatsby’s sides in silence. The horse’s head began to droop, enjoying all of the attention, his lower lip twitching in contentment.

              “Would you let me show you around?” Luke finally asked, his voice a tentative whisper. 

              “Yes,” she answered. At some point, they had stopped brushing Gatsby and were looking at each other now. Her bright, gold eyes getting lost in his blue ones. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, and all Luke wanted to do was kiss her. He swallowed hard and pulled away, not wanting to push her.

              “Come here,” he murmured. “I want to show you something.” She latched Gatsby’s door behind her. Luke reached for her hand and once he grabbed it, led her down to the end of the aisle. Electricity shot through her. She looked down at their joined hands, fully aware that he was finally touching her, and it felt natural. He slid the door open and a rush of night enveloped them. Luke led her about halfway into the pasture and then stopped. They were surrounded by complete darkness. Luke stood behind her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders.

              “Look up,” he whispered, his breath tickling against her ear. She did and found herself surrounded by the stars. More stars than she had ever seen in her life.

              “It’s beautiful,” she said. “I’ve never seen them this bright before.” Sure, she had lived on a farm, but there seemed to be lights everywhere. Security purposes, her father had always told her. Each building had flood lights above its doors, and the walkways between the house and barns were well lit, albeit with decorative lamps. There was still a constant glow of light that surrounded the farm. Then again, her life had always been so busy, that she had never really taken the time to walk into the darkness to try to see. The metaphor of the moment struck her. She had never been willing to walk out of her comfort zone to see what life had to offer. And now, here she was, stepping out of the light and learning to see.

              “This is what you really need to see. I come out here a lot at night when I can’t sleep. When I look up into the stars, I don’t feel so lost.”

              Lost. That was a good way of describing it, Jena thought. She had often felt that way since her father died. Like she didn’t have a direction anymore. There were times, at first, when she didn’t know which way was up and which was down. She shivered a bit, either at the coolness of the air or the feel of his hand still resting on her shoulder. Luke assumed she was cold and turned her back to lead her into the barn, but she stopped before they had gone far.

              “You know, sailors have long used the stars to navigate, so it makes sense…they can help you find your way, too,” Jena whispered back. They stood together in silence, both of them trained on the night sky. “I have to admit,” Jena started, “I feel lost sometimes, too.”

              “Well, now you know where to look when you need to find your way.”

              Luke turned to look at her, and she felt grounded again. They stood like this for several minutes before walking back toward the barn.

              “Thank you,” she said, once they reached the aisle. “I had no idea.” She felt as if he had shared a private part of himself, something he didn’t often share with others. “I suppose I should go back in.” They stood in silence again. Gatsby pawed at the stall, reminding the two of them that he still needed a treat. Luke reached into his pocket for a few peppermints and threw them into his feed tub.

              “Tomorrow?” Luke asked. “Will you come back tomorrow night?”

              “Of course,” she answered. “It’s a date, remember?” Jena smiled and walked out of the barn.

chapter 13

T
HE FIRST TIME JENA REMEMBERED being at the Rolex Kentucky Three-                                                                                       Day Event, she was around the age of six. Her father took her around proudly, introducing her to the other competitors. She remembered the smell of the horses and the excitement in the air. She stood with her mother at the water, watching the horses jump in and out, their riders expertly navigating the most popular part of the cross-country course. At the time, she was too young to realize the danger involved. Too young to remember that two horses had died that weekend. To her, she only saw the thrill of winning, as her father completed his victory lap after having a clear jumping round. It was at that moment, she knew that this was what she wanted to do.

A few days later, Jena heard the raised voices of her parents from her perch at the top of the stairs as they argued. Her mother wanted her daughter to have nothing to do with the sport. She could have a horse, but eventing was out of the question. Her father, on the other hand, was ready to start his daughter in his footsteps, continuing the legacy that was Grayson Stables. She didn’t stay to see which parent actually won, but a few days later, her father presented her with her first pony, and she was instantly in love. Whether her mother approved or not, she never knew. This pony became her life, and she wanted to ride every day. She followed her dad around the farm from the time she got up, until the time her mother sent her off to bed.

Within a few short years, she was riding expertly over fences. Ted Grayson immediately noticed that his daughter had a natural talent for riding. He watched her with pride. Her mother, however, watched with contempt. She knew she had married into this lifestyle. It had been thrilling at first, but as the years continued to pass, she felt her husband would only have so much luck. She had seen so many of their friends fall, lose horses, or worse. It was an exhilarating sport. Some would call it cruel, but she also knew the horses loved it. She saw the look in their eyes before they took a fence in the heat of competition. They were like racehorses in that regard. They lived for it. And now, her daughter wanted into this elite life. Karen felt as though her only child were slipping through her fingers, and she felt a rift in the relationship with her husband, as their daughter began to spend more time with him and less with her.

It only got worse as Jena found success. She excelled at the sport, becoming the youngest to ever compete at the Rolex Kentucky Three-Day Event. And, as her father had hoped, she would easily have the skill to take over the family business, when the time came. Her career was just beginning, and in a few years, she would compete in the next Olympics. Of this, her parents were sure, and it only increased the distance between Jena and her mother.

By the time her father died, Jena barely saw her mother. Karen stopped going to competitions with them, instead, choosing to take elaborate trips with friends. Jena was so focused on competition that she had been too blind to see that her parent’s marriage was dissolving right before her eyes.

After the accident, Mac, the farm’s long time manager, drove up to Kentucky to bring the horses back to South Carolina. Jena followed by herself, her mother never bothering to come and check on her only daughter. In fact, she didn’t even see her mother for two days. Jena told herself that it was because her mother was busy planning the funeral and running the farm, when in reality, she was frozen within her own grief. Then suddenly, she was down in the kitchen when Jena got up. Somehow, they made it through the visitation and funeral. The silence between the two of them was deafening, and as Karen grew quiet, so did her daughter. Since Jena had been home schooled, or had gone to school online, she didn’t have a lot of friends. Competition kept her from having much of a social life. Sure, there were people she knew on the circuit, but no one she would have considered close. There was no one for her to talk to. No one for her to grieve with, other than her mother.

Months passed, and without Ted to give lessons at the barn, or train the horses, the clientele all left, and her mother spent less and less time at the farm. Jena tried to carry on with her daily rituals of online classes and riding, but the farm grew increasingly empty, and it became harder and harder for her to continue. Jena had no one, and without being able to work through her own grief, she retreated into herself.

Soon riding—something which Jena had always loved—became more of a chore. Without her father there to support her, it wasn’t the same. She often sat on the fence, watching the horses in the distance, getting fat and out of shape in the pasture. Gatsby was unhappy, she could see. He was the kind of horse that needed a job. He liked to jump. He loved being an eventing horse, but Jena felt too lost to ride again. It reminded her too much of her father, and riding would certainly not bring him back. The one thing that had defined her for so long, no longer brought her peace.

By the time the bank came knocking on the door, searching for its loan payment, she hadn’t ridden in several months. So when the farm went under, she wasn’t really sad to see it go. She’d felt her life crumbling, from the moment she heard the wood breaking as her father’s horse crashed into the jump. While physically, her mother had only been gone a few months, emotionally, she’d left many years ago. Sadly, it took losing her father for Jena to realize that she’d lost her mother, too.

Now, months later, Jena lay on her bed in a new home, and for once, let the suppressed memories rush into her head. She thought about her father, she thought about her mother, but mostly, she thought about the horses. There was an ache deep within her soul. She felt restless. Antsy. She was recognizing that it was the need to be down by the barn with the horses.

It had been a few weeks since she had come to live in Townsend with her aunt and uncle. She felt as if she were finding herself again. Her aunt and uncle were kind and helping out in the business took her mind off of the losses she had endured. It was waking her back up again.

Then there was Luke. Each day, she felt new feelings battling within her. She had never thought of anyone in this way, never wanted to explore what a deeper relationship would be like. She’d never really had a serious relationship before. There were a few stolen kisses at horse shows and one night in the back of a horse trailer with someone she thought she was in love with. Luke was different. Jena didn’t want to leave when they were together at night, outside of Gatsby’s stall. She wanted to be around him. He calmed her. Centered her. Helped her feel grounded. Kyle, of course, complicated things. He was always trying to hang around her. She also wasn’t sure what her aunt and uncle would think if they found out that she and Luke were together. She didn’t really know much about him. The one thing she did know was that when she was with him, she could almost forget all that had happened. It felt like a fresh start.

The next morning, Jena awoke and felt oddly refreshed. It was Sunday, and there were no trail rides. The sun was shining and a warm breeze played in the tree branches. Kyle wouldn’t be here today, and that made her smile even more. And it would make it easier for her to do what she knew she needed to do today anyway.

By the time Jena made it downstairs, breakfast was all but put away, and Luke and Rob were nowhere to be found.

“Jena, I can make some eggs and warm up some sausage for you, if you’d like,” Meg called out to her from the kitchen. Jena walked in and gave her aunt a quick hug.

“No thanks, I’m not really hungry. I’ll just grab an apple or something.” Meg paused, dish in hand, and looked at her niece. She was different this morning. A lightness to her. She was even smiling.