Page 71 of Sterling Clay

“Riding double,” Clay corrects. “And it isn’t recommended for long journeys. We aren’t going far but I still want to give you your own shot.” He turns toward his horse again, stroking the white patch one more time. “Plus, I’ve missed my girl.”

“I didn’t know you owned a horse.”

Clay turns back to me. “Rescued her from a farmer who wanted to get rid of her. I don’t ride her often enough but she’s getting older and does best with short trips. I have somewhere close by I want to take you.”

I chew my lower lip, uncertain about any of this, but Clay is too excited for us to share this experience for me to deny him.

He steps closer to me while holding Terra’s reins. “You’ve got this, butterfly.”

He cups my shoulder and leans in for a kiss that lasts a little longer than it probably should considering Gilbert is waiting on us. Then, Clay leads me to the side of Honey Rose, who has been led outside the barn by Gilbert. He explains where to put my foot and helps me hoist myself upward and straddle the broad back of the even-tempered beauty. If she feels my nerves, she doesn’t respond, standing still like she’s bored.

Clay mounts his horse, and walks up beside me, taking over the lesson in how to pull up on the reins. With a gentle nudge of my heels into Honey Rose’s side, she moves forward.

I yelp and Clay chuckles, encouraging us along.

Before I know it, we’re sauntering down another gravel path that narrows into two rutted tracks along the edge of deep woods. As Clay and I ride in silence for a while, the atmosphere calms me. Cool air. Gray clouds. Quiet. The scene is peaceful, comforting even.

As we move onward, we talk about random things. Clay offers stories about learning his love of horses from his mom. He explains how the old barn on Stone’s property once was filled with animals. When his mom died, his father got rid of them. Clay assumes the sight of them was too painful for his father.

“He must have loved her very much,” I say.

“Hard to remember sometimes.” He squints off into the distance. “My younger siblings don’t remember them as a couple. How they laughed. My dad always kissing her. He’d have given her the moon if she asked. I caught them dancing in the kitchen one night. Only the radio on and the lights down low. I’d try to pull up that memory whenever Dad went on a rampage, cursing her death, or his kids. Only Stone, Judd, and me seem to remember her. Remember them when things were better.”

His faraway look is haunted, and I don’t need to ask to know that things changed, perhaps too quickly to understand as a boy. But Clay was a reflective man and despite his struggles to forgive his father, he offers compassion to him.

“He loved her so much. Made me afraid to love for the longest time. Afraid of being so attached to someone I’d lose my mind if they were gone for good.”

My heart breaks for him. At the fear of love. The fear of losing it. If I’d been afraid, I would have never fallen for Wesley in the first place, something I wish I hadn’t done.

“I believe love isn’t something to be afraid of, though. Even if we only have it for a brief moment, that moment shines, and makes everything pale in comparison.”

Clay bitter chuckles. “I think that’s what happened to him. His world wasn’t as bright without her in it.”

“Too bad he didn’t cling to the memory then and see how all the rays of her brightness flowed into her children.” That’s how I look at Dutton. He’s an extension of Cecilia. He’s the lingering streams of light after her sun set.

Clay huffs. “Yeah, too bad.”

As I don’t want to turn our ride into a sad song, I tease him next. “So, when do I get to really open her up and ride this baby?” I lean forward like I’m a practiced jockey instead of a novice horseback rider.

My partner chuckles, deep and loud, letting the sad moment wash out of him. “I’m not certain you’re ready for such a ride. At least, not on a horse.”

My mouth falls open at the innuendo and Clay laughs harder.

“Come on, butterfly. Just a little bit farther.”

It is not long before a solitary stone structure comes into view, low and alone in the middle of an autumn meadow. As Clay leads us toward the place, I ask, “What’s this?”

“This is a place Stone and Knox rebuilt. When Knox first came home from the Navy, where he’d been a naval aviator, he had a lot on his mind. Stone found projects around the house and on our land to keep Knox’s hands busy, hoping to distract his head.” Clay nods at the lone building. “The back wall, made of field stones, was still intact, and Stone and Knox worked to rebuild the rest of what we assume was the original homestead on our property.” Clay softly smiles. “Ironic, that Stone, and Knox whose nickname from Halle is Brick, rebuilt the stone and brick structure.”

I chuckle at the connection as Clay halts his horse and slips from the saddle. He ties her up to an iron notch I hadn’t noticed in the side of the small house. Then, he comes to me, holding out his hands to help me off Honey Rose. When I slide off the side of her with Clay’s assistance, he spins me to kiss me hard and fast.

“Been wanting to do that since we started riding.”

I blink, staggering from the suddenness. He’d kissed me only half an hour ago. But I wasn’t complaining. The way Clay kissed me was like that sunshine feeling we discussed about love, because there was no doubt in my mind that I was brightly in love with Clay.

The thought should scare me. I know my track record—fall fast and hard—but everything about Clay says this time is different. He’s the difference. The way he is with Dutton. The way he acts toward me. His gentle touch. His kind words. The only threat I feel is that Clay might not reciprocate how strongly I feel about him. Which means I still need to be on my guard because I can’t risk Dutton or me getting hurt again in a deeper way, because Dutton cares and trusts Clay as much as I do.

“So why this place?” I ask, simply curious about Clay’s thoughts.