Page 94 of Paper Horses

She gave me a playful grin that sent my blood rushing through my veins. “Not really.”

“Good.” I hopped down from my horse and took her reins. “Neither am I. What do you say we let them graze for a while?”

“And do what?” she asked, eyeing the hand I was holding out to her.

“I think we can come up with a few things.”

I helped her from the horse, my hands sliding up her silk shirt and pushing it loose from where she had it tucked in. She’d looked sexy the night before but not herself. Today, she was a gorgeous blend of the two sides of her, and it struck me as she met my eyes that there really were two sides to her. Forced to live with one side for so many years, she was now navigating what the other side meant. If it would mean changing completely or compromising. And seeing her this happy, this comfortable in her designer shirt and small-town jeans gave me hope that this really could work the way I wanted. The way I needed it.

Compromise. If I wanted to keep her, that’s what we needed to do.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

I blinked, realizing I’d been gawking at her as my mind whirled.

Because I want to keep you forever.

“Just thinking about how pretty you are.”

Her cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, highlighting her freckles, and I kissed one before releasing her and turning back to my horse. A sense of giddiness overcame me, and it was like I was back in school, taking her out for the first time. Maybe it was the air, the cold front that was moving in after our week of unexpected warmth. Or maybe it was something else. Love. That emotion, which had evaded me for years and was now like a giant pounding at the interior of my chest, reminding me it had never faded, it had only been waiting to find her again.

I grabbed the blanket from the saddlebag and, walking past Olivia, took her hand to lead her further from the horses. Spreading the blanket out, I gestured for her to sit.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises.”

Giving her a shrug, I clawed my hand through my hair and said, “It’s nothing fancy. Just thought we could enjoy the view.”

She took a seat and laid back on the blanket. That hadn’t been the view I had in mind, but when her blouse slipped over the curve of her breast, revealing the swell of soft skin, I didn’t complain. A few steps had me by her side, staring up at the clouds.

“Do you ever miss it?” she asked in a soft tone accented by the screech of a hawk flying overhead.

“What?”

“The city. It’s so different here. Peaceful. Do you ever miss being back home?”

“This is my home. And no, I don’t.” I took a deep breath, letting the clean air calm me. “After you left, going back home became a nightmare. I knew you were out there, working for your father. Knew if I just crossed town I could find you. Maybe see you in passing, maybe confront you.” Her fingers brushed over mine, and I took them in my hand. “I thought about it until I remembered you were the one who left, and if you wanted to find me, you knew where I was. But every day, I searched for you in the faces of people I passed on the streets, in voices I heard in the crowds. That, combined with how miserable I was working for my mother, made for the perfect storm. I didn’t hesitate to move away.”

“Did it help?”

I turned my head to look at her, seeing the pain in her eyes, the same that stabbed me whenever I thought back to that time.

“Not really. It was a distraction. Nothing more. And finally, it quieted. After years of shoving those memories away, I built a wall around them and my heart.” I looked back up at the sky. “I went through the motions of moving on and convinced myself that I had, but I never let anyone knock that wall down.”

The blanket moved with her as she curled into my chest, running her hand over it.

“I’m sorry.”

“If I’d gone after you, come pounding on your door and confronted you, would it have worked?”

Her hand stopped its movement as her breathing grew shallow, and I waited for her answer.

“I don’t know.” She leaned up, her eyes glistening with moisture. “It took every bit of strength for me to walk away from you. I don’t know if I could have done it again, but…” Her sight shifted as if she was seeing something beyond me, a memory that had tears building in her eyes. I wondered if she’d ever stop crying now that she’d started. It seemed a daily thing, and I had never seen her cry. Not even when her mother died.

“I dreamed about it. Envisioned you crashing into the building and demanding to see me. But with every day that passed, I built my own walls. My father was a dick, sticking me on the hotel desk assisting the manager. Like I wasn’t his daughter. He rotated me through so many lower positions, telling me how I had to earn my way to the top. Weekly check-ins while he berated me, chastised me for being a woman, saying Gabe was smarter and I’d never make it.” A wrench twisted in my chest. This man was the lowest, and the idea that he had made her think she was less than she was had me seeing red. “But every word drove me to work harder, to prove him wrong and…” She gave a ragged inhale, the tears falling. “…I shut thoughts of you out, replaced them with revenge, with memories of my mother and what he’d done to her and to Gabe. And in time, I left that part of myself to my sleepless nights and anniversaries. Reminders of you that would slip in when my guard was down.”

I wiped a tear away and cupped her cheek, seeing something I wasn’t so sure she had seen herself. As much as I wanted to deck her father and would if I ever saw him again, he had pushed her to be better. Almost as if he knew she would defy every underestimation, every insult, everything that could make her weak in a world that thrived on breaking people, especially women who often couldn’t hold their own against the aggressive nature of men.

Olivia could. In fact, I had no doubt that men stepped out of her way because she was a force of her own. One that her father had shaped, even if he’d gone about it in a way that should have had him arrested.