When It's Right (17 page)

“I've never seen someone get up on a horse for the first time and make it look so easy.”

“It's like she was born in a saddle. It's the only time I see her let everything else go and just be.” He loved those short glimpses of the real Gillian. The girl who loved the outdoors, the horses, the quiet solitude of a ride. Spending time together alone.

Blake found Gillian
in Boots's stall. Not surprising. She worked the brush over Boots's thickening coat. The horse looked better. So did Gillian. But not by much.

Boots noticed him first and huffed out a breath, alerting Gillian. Her head shot around, and she stared at him, eyes wide. Yep, still spooked.

“Come with me.” He kept his voice soft. Calm. He wanted her to let her guard down, not reinforce her walls even more.

“Where are we going?”

“You'll see.”

“Blake, I—­”

“Need to come with me right now.” She hesitated, so he added, “Please. You'll like it. I promise.”

One eyebrow shot up, but he didn't add a teasing innuendo, even though she expected it. He kept things light.

He opened the stall door and let her out. Boots groaned at her, not wanting to let her go. He loved her visits as much as she loved being with him. She stopped and turned back. “I'll be back soon,” she crooned. Boots nickered, letting her know he couldn't wait. They'd learned to communicate with each other. A must for working with the large animals. Gillian did it with little coaching from Blake.

“I'll bring her back,” Blake told Boots.

Boots whinnied. A definite,
You better
.

“I think he's jealous,” Gillian said.

“He'll get over it.” Blake took her hand. She flinched. Not good, but he held on, hoping she'd relax. She did, but it took a minute.

He walked her outside. She stopped, stared at the saddled horses, and sighed.

“Let's ride, pretty girl.”

“Pretty, huh?”

Blake took a chance and reached up to touch the bird-­in-­flight clip. He rested his hand against her head and stared down at her. “Beautiful.” He let that sink in for a minute. “I like the birds.”

She reached up to touch the clip, but her hand settled over his. Electricity snapped between them. The moment stretched, but he didn't make a move to kiss her, despite how desperately he wanted to. Right now, they both needed to feel that pulse and buzz between them. Whatever upset her earlier waned from her eyes. They softened and filled with a longing he hoped one day soon she'd allow herself to act on. Right now, he'd promised her time and space, and taking things slow. One step at a time. Today, they'd ride and spend time alone together. He told himself it was enough. But he wanted more.

“Remember everything I taught you on our last ride?”

“Yes.”

Blake took her by the hips and lifted her into the saddle.

“That's not how you taught me to mount the horse.”

Blake smiled but didn't say anything. He handed her the reins and mounted his own horse. No need to coax her; Gillian gave her mount a soft kick and took the path to the right and across the backside of the property. “Relax in the saddle, or your ass will be sore from all that bouncing.”

Gillian caught herself. Tense. On edge. It took her a few minutes to let loose and settle into the ride.

They didn't speak for a good long time. The ranch buildings disappeared behind them. When they hit a long open space, Gillian kicked her horse into a gallop and took off. His mind took him back to another time he'd chased after a girl on a horse. His stomach tied in knots. Nervous, scared she might hurt herself, he let loose his reins, and his horse took off after hers. She slowed a ways up, and he walked beside her. She smiled and let out a huge sigh.

“That is so much fun.”

Her happiness helped release the tension in his gut. “Yes, it is. I used to love to race my brothers.”

“Is that what made you want to train racehorses?”

“My dad runs a cattle ranch. I hated working with the cattle. They're slow, unruly beasts. Horses have personality. My dad saw how much I liked the horses, so he put me in charge of them. I spent hours training them.”

“You were born to ride.”

“I love it. The faster the better.”

“What else did you like to do with your brothers?”

“Everything. Fishing, riding, rodeoing, campouts. This one time, we scared the pants off Dane. He must have been about eight. It was his first time coming with us. Just us boys. Our parents stayed home. We pitched a ­couple of tents in the west pasture in the trees by the river. I'm sure my dad checked up on us, but we thought we were alone. We had a campfire and told ghost stories. Dane went to bed that night shaking in his boots. About an hour after lights out, we started making all kinds of noises. Gabe rattled one of the horse bridles. Caleb moaned and groaned like a ghost. I used a branch to poke at the outside of Dane's tent to make him think someone was outside.”

“Not nice.”

“He was the youngest, a tag-­along. Call it an initiation. He spent every waking moment trying to be like us. It was our way of toughening him up.”

Gillian shook her head with a slight smile on her lips. She got it.

“So we up the freaky noises and rattle his cage even more until he can't take it. He runs out of his tent screaming for Gabe, hoping big brother will save him. He runs into the three of us and gets us back good.”

“What did he do?”

“Spewed hot dogs, soda, and s'mores all over our feet.”

“Ah, yuck!” Gillian laughed. The sound made his heart melt. “You're joking.”

“No joke. He fell to his knees, sick and frightened. Gabe picked him up and took him to the river's edge. We cleaned him up and our shoes. We all slept in Gabe's tent the rest of the night.”

“You felt bad.”

“We wanted to scare him, not make him sick. Tormenting our little brother is one thing. Hurting him is another. He never tattled on us. When our parents asked if we had a good time, he said he loved it and couldn't wait to go again.”

“Did you take him with you the next time?”

“Always. We still picked on him. He's our little brother, but we never tortured him again. The thing is, he toughened up real quick. He gave as good as he got. In fact, he loved getting over on his big brothers.”

“Did your parents ever find out what happened?”

“Dad never said anything, but everyone except Dane had extra chores that week.”

“He was watching over you guys.”

“Always.”

“Did you guys ever fight?”

“Lots. But nothing that couldn't be fixed with an ‘I'm sorry.'”

“Not even over a girl?”

“Unspoken rule. One of us liked a girl, she was hands-­off for all the others. Not that we ever really liked the same girls. We're all two years apart, so there was enough separation in age and school grades to keep things easy.”

“Did you play sports in high school?”

“Baseball.”

“I can see that.”

“Why?”

“You've got patience. While it's a physical sport, there's a lot of waiting for something to happen.”

He had to admit she was right. “I guess so.”

“Have you been in many serious relationships?” The words came out soft, shy.

“One really serious. The others committed but short-­lived,” he admitted.

“Why did the serious one end?”

“Not meant to be. We had a lot in common. Maybe too much. The two of us together spelled trouble with a capital T. We brought out our mutual competitiveness. We had to push the boundaries. Too bad neither of us remembered that we aren't invincible.”

“What happened?”

“Disaster.”

Sensing he didn't want to talk about what happened, she changed the subject. Kinda. “So, since then you've had several short-­term relationships.”

“I'm not a serial dater. I find someone I like, and we see how it goes. When it gets too serious, I usually break it off.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn't want serious. Not with them.”
Hint. Hint.
Maybe he'd given too much away too soon, but he didn't want her to think she was like the other women who had come and gone in his life. She was different. Why? He didn't know. She just was.

They rode in silence back to the ranch. When the buildings drew closer, she asked in her shy way, “Is this something . . . Do you . . .”

“Gillian, you know it is, and I do. Go with your gut. It's never steered you wrong. What you see in me, whatever it is I make you feel, it's real.”

Blake dismounted outside the stables, went to Gillian, took her by the waist, and carefully plucked her from the saddle to set her gently on her feet in front of him.

“I had a really good time,” she said to his feet.

He touched his finger under her chin and made her look up at him. “I had a great time with you.”

“You wouldn't rather—­”

“I wouldn't rather do anything than spend time with you.” He traced his finger along her jaw, up and over her cheek, and tucked a strand of her long hair, more gold today than brown and red, behind her ear.

He kept things easy. “Time to feed the horses. Boots is nickering for you.” He led the saddled horses into the stables, Gillian following behind him. They'd made progress today. Whatever bothered her earlier had been erased from her mind and eyes with the long ride.

He liked making her happy. He liked sharing stories about his family with her. A good day. He wanted more. With her. Seemed whenever he was around her, or thought about her, he always wanted more.

 

Chapter 18

G
illian stood by Boots's corral, watching him prance around the small open space. After two weeks of eating regularly, he'd gained some weight and energy. The more time she spent with him, the more relaxed and outgoing he became, and the less he shied away from everyone and everything. Proud of him for coming out of his shell, she smiled and felt lighter. His accomplishment became her own. She'd done better the last few days, not looking over her shoulder every few seconds when she worked in the barn with Boots. She didn't try to hide from the others working in the barn, or time her entrance and exit for when there were the fewest men in there.

Things with Blake settled into a more normal friendship. She didn't back away when he approached. She didn't flinch when he brushed his hand down her long hair, his favorite thing to do any time she was near. The smile he gave her each morning when she came down to breakfast lit up her heart with such warmth that she couldn't help smiling back.

He kissed her goodnight before he left each night and gave her a look like it pained him to be away from her. The longing in his eyes matched what she felt in her heart. But they'd agreed to take things slow. Make sure the friendship they were building was the foundation for a future and didn't turn into the destruction of their lives at Three Peaks.

Today, he had some work to do training a ­couple of quarter horses, so she'd borrowed his MP3 player to pass the time while she waited for Justin's school bus to arrive. She worked her way through Blake's eclectic playlist.

Right now she didn't have anything more important to do than hang out by Boots's corral, watching him crop grass in the field and rest her aching arms and knee. She'd cut back on her pain meds. Each day she felt stronger.

With Jason Aldean's “Johnny Cash” blaring in her ears, she didn't hear anyone come up behind her. A hand settled on her shoulder and pulled her around. She expected Blake, but found herself staring up at a very tall, wide man looming over her. With her back pressed to the fence, she couldn't step away. He was saying something to her, but with the music blasting in her ears, she didn't hear him. She pulled one earbud out.

“. . . Pain in My Ass. Have you seen him?”

All Gillian heard was “pain in my ass.” The same thing her father said to her over and over again, day in and day out. The huge man's face faded and shifted into her father's. His heavy black coat turned to a white T-­shirt. Blood bloomed across his chest. He reached out to her again, but she sank back against the fence, bent at the waist, and fell through the railing, her heart thrashing against her ribs.

He's back.

He'll hurt her again.

Fear washed over her and stole her breath. She tried to breathe but couldn't get any air.

She scrambled back as he leaned through the fence and reached for her again, grabbing her ankle. She screamed. Boots ran forward and reared up, but the horse didn't hold her attention—­the man coming after her did. Boots's hooves landed inches from her leg. She scrambled backward on her hands, kicking with her feet to push herself back and her father away. Her broken arm hurt like hell, but she didn't care or stop. Everything inside her screamed,
Run!

The man practically dove through the fence, stood tall over her, using one big hand to push Boots away. He took several steps toward her. She flipped over and tried to crawl and stand at the same time to run away, but she wrenched her knee and fell again, rolling over to her back, arms up to ward off the attack she knew was coming. Blake appeared out of nowhere and shoved the man in his chest, stopping him from coming forward. Relieved to see Blake, she stopped trying to get away.

Blake said something to the man, but she couldn't hear him over the thrashing guitars as the music blared in one ear and her heart pounded in the other. She pulled the earbud out and tried to take a breath, but still couldn't fill her lungs with the fear engulfing her. Everything in her wanted to jump up, flee, run as fast as she could, but she hurt so bad.

Blake stood with the man, his back to her. The guy explained, “I told her I was here to pick up my horse. I asked if she'd seen you, and then I don't know what happened. She scrambled to get away, but spooked the horse. He reared and almost trampled her to death.”

Blake turned and stared at her, so much sadness and pity filling his tawny eyes. The same shade the man standing next to him had. In fact, they looked very similar to each other in height and build. Her brain stopped screaming for her to run and started processing the things around her again.

Blake took three steps to her but stopped five feet away and kneeled down, sitting back on his heels. “Gillian, sweetheart, please take a breath. Slow and easy,” he pleaded.

Her gaze darted from him to the other man and back. She tried to breathe but couldn't.

“Sweetheart, look at me. No one is going to hurt you. I promise. Look at me.”

She shifted her focus back to him.

“That's it, sweetheart. I won't let anyone hurt you. This is my brother Gabe. I should have told you he was coming today. I'm sorry.”

Gabe moved to Blake's side and kneeled down, arms braced on his thighs.

Gillian put both hands up to stop him from coming closer, even though he made no move to do so.

“Hey there. I'm real sorry I scared you. I didn't see that you were listening to music and couldn't hear me. I never meant to scare you. I'll tell you, you took ten years off my life when that horse nearly stomped on you. That's all I was trying to do, get you out of the way of that horse.”

Boots stood to her side, staring at Blake and Gabe.

“He'd never hurt you, would he, sweetheart? Boots loves you. He tried to protect you from Gabe. Like you, he didn't know Gabe wouldn't hurt a fly. I promise you, Gabe's no threat. He'd stand between you and danger the same way I would. I know telling you that doesn't really change your mind, but . . .”

She put her hand up to stop him. Her breathing slowed, but her heart still pounded. For the first time, she realized tears tracked down her cheeks one after the other.

“I'm sorry,” she said to Blake. She turned to his brother. “I'm sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. Totally my fault,” Gabe said. “Blake told me about you. I should have known better than to come up behind you. He's right though, you've got the prettiest hair I've ever seen. What color is that?”

“All of them,” she whispered.

Gabe laughed. “That's about right.”

Blake stood and took two steps toward her. She put her hands up again to stop him, so he kneeled in front of her again. Gabe remained low behind him.

“Sweetheart, your hand is bleeding. After covering twenty feet of dirt and grass, your knee must be killing you. Come to me. I'll take you up to the house. We'll get you some pain meds, and you can rest.”

She held her hand out in front of her. Sure enough, the plaster on her cast had scraped up the backs of her fingers as she'd scrambled away from Gabe.

“It hurts.”

“I know. Let's go up to the house. I'll take care of you.”

Justin ran down the driveway as the bus pulled out. Grandma Dee jogged from the house and intercepted him on the driveway, glancing over her shoulder at Gillian lying in the field, her eyes filled with concern.

Justin held up a colorful painted picture and said, “Gillian, come see.”

“He can't see me like this,” Gillian said to Blake and Gabe.

Grandma Dee distracted Justin, oohing and aahing over his picture while she led him to the house with a promise of fresh baked cookies.

“Gillian, can you get up and walk with me to the house?” Blake asked.

She sucked in a breath, tucked her good leg under her, planted her hands on the ground, and used her good leg to boost herself up to standing. She put her weight on her bad leg, testing out her aching knee. It hurt. Tired of being in pain, she glanced up and caught Blake's steady gaze, his whole body tensed to rush to her aid if she faltered. She wanted him to come to her, but her going to him would go a long way to easing his mind. With barely a glance at Gabe standing behind Blake, she limped to Blake and didn't stop until she reached him. He waited for her, not moving a muscle until she walked right into his chest, reached up around his neck, and held him close. He wrapped his arms around her, his fingers diving into her hair.

“Are you okay?”

“No, but I'm getting better by the second.”

“You really scared me. I heard you scream, and I thought you were really in trouble.”

“I thought I was, too. Something happened. My mind played tricks on me again. He didn't look like him anymore. He looked like my dad and reached for me. I heard the gunshot and smelled the gunpowder. I panicked. I needed to get away.”

“You're safe here, sweetheart. I'll never let anything happen to you.”

“I know. I saw you nearly knock your brother right off his feet.”

“I'd kill anyone who touched you.” Blake hugged her close.

“I believe that.”

“But I don't scare you.”

“No. Well, sometimes, but not in that way.”

“You never have to be afraid of me for any reason.”

“I'm trying, Blake. I know you're impatient for me to come around and be normal—­”

“Stop. I don't think that at all. Today is nothing more than your mind still trying to process what happened. Maybe you need to talk to a professional.”

She didn't want to, but she stepped back. He didn't let her completely out of his embrace but kept his hands banded at her back. She slid her hands down his shoulders and rested them on his huge biceps. So much strength, yet he held her in a gentle embrace she could break if she wanted to, though she didn't feel the need. His smile settled her. The warmth in his eyes eased her heart and erased the last of the fear running through her blood.

“No. I'm fine.”

“Gillian, you're fine most of the time, but I know you think about it. I see it in your eyes sometimes. I bet you even dream about it.”

“This happened before,” she admitted.

“When we went shopping in town,” Blake guessed. “And again when you went to town with Dee three days ago.”

“I thought I saw him.”

“He's dead and gone, sweetheart. He can't hurt you anymore.”

“I don't want to dwell in the past. I'm moving forward. Yes, this is a step back, but I'm not going crazy. We don't need to call in the white coats and straightjacket.”

“I never said anything like that. I want you to be happy and see this incident lift from your shoulders so that it's a real part of your past and not part of your every day.”

“I'm getting there.” She'd thought she was further along in this process. Yes, it was a process. Some days she couldn't stop thinking about it, others she went hours without a thought, an image, a reminder. Blake's frown made her add, “It's only been a ­couple of weeks. If things get worse, I'll see someone.”

“And you'll be honest with me. If you're having a bad day, tell me. Maybe I can help. The least I can do is be with you, distract you from your thoughts and make you smile.”

“Like when we go riding together and you tell me stories about you and your brothers.”

No one had ever cared enough about how she felt to offer to help her, let alone simply be there for her if she needed them.

“I don't know what to say,” she said.

“Thank you,” he suggested.

“Thank you.”

“And you'll be honest about how you're feeling?”

“Yes. With you, but you can't tell Justin or my grandparents if I confide something I don't want them to know.”

“As long as I agree there's no harm in keeping them in the dark.”

She frowned, narrowing her eyes, but relented. “Okay. I need to go inside and reassure Justin everything is okay.”

“You need to take care of yourself first. Come on.” He coaxed her toward his waiting brother. “Gabe, this is Gillian. Gillian, my older brother, Gabe, who is deeply sorry for startling you.”

“I truly am. It's nice to meet you. I came to pick up Pain in My Ass.”

She flinched at the term. Blake squeezed her to his side. “He means his horse, not you. I've been training
Bo
.”

“Sorry, but he is a pain in my ass.”

“Not anymore,” Blake assured him.

“So, you'll be at the wedding, right? Ella can't wait to meet you. I would have brought her with me today. She loves this one”—­Gabe cocked his head toward Blake—­“but she's in New York until Friday night.”

“Uh, what wedding?” she asked.

“You didn't ask her?”

Blake frowned. “I haven't had the chance to bring it up.” Blake stared down at her. “Gabe and Ella are getting married soon. I'd like you to come with me to the wedding at Wolf Ranch.”

“That's a family thing.” If he hadn't asked her already, maybe it was because he didn't want to take her. Then again, did she want to go, put herself in the position as his date, where others might think it was something more?
Is it something more?
Certainly seemed that way if he wanted her to go with him to a family wedding. Not just a cousin or distant relative's, but his brother's.

“Family and very close friends,” Gabe clarified. “We'd love for you to come. Ella's friends are all in New York and all over the world. She doesn't know many ­people here. Neither do you, since you just moved here, so she thought you two might hit it off and she'd have a friend here, too. You'll like her. She's amazing.”

“Says her love-­struck fiancé,” Gillian teased.

Gabe smiled, cocking up one side of his mouth in a half grin that matched Blake's familiar one, and nodded.