Page 44 of Quiver

She sighed. None of that lapse was Kylie’s fault. “Sure, go ahead.”

With another minor squeeze of her legs, more of an encouragement than an order, Kylie sent Winston into the highest gear he still had any comfort with. The two of them rocked in a gracefully controlled stride, and neither faltered in their rhythm. Both sides of Fletcher, the instructor and the admirer, fell into lockstep agreement as she mumbled, “Beautiful.”

Bear cocked his head and yawned loudly.

“Yeah, I know.” She scratched behind his ear without taking her eyes off Kylie. “You’re not impressed by horses or women, but you’re going to have to trust me on this one. That’s as good as it gets.”

She allowed them all a few more passes around the big oval under the guise of letting Kylie and Winston reacquaint each other with their quirks, but she suspected she needed time to get used to a few things as well. If they intended to work together more often and more closely, Kylie wasn’t the only one who’d need to get hold of some reins. Fletcher took a few deep breaths, anchoring herself to this spot in the dirt, the scent of hay and horses, the tousle of Bear’s fur under her fingers.

This was still her world, her home, her turf, no matter who else came to train and then left. They always left, and Kylie wasn’t an exception to the rule. She’d been the one to write it. Once Fletcher felt more secure in all those facts, she waved her arm over her head and called, “Bring it down now.”

Kylie obliged with only a slight frown, easing back to a trot and then a walk.

Winston shook his head, indignant at being stifled.

“I know, I know.” Kylie patted his neck again. “We had more to give, coach.”

She didn’t disagree with Kylie’s self-assessment. The pink in her cheeks seemed as much from pleasure as exertion, and while her chest rose and fell more heavily, she didn’t seem out of breath as much as elevated. Fletcher’s lips went dry at the tells of her excitement and quickly shifted her focus to Winston. “You may have more in you tonight, but he already pulled a sleigh this morning.”

“Winston?” Kylie fake-gasped. “You were stepping out on me?”

He shook his mane at the sound of his name.

“Am I your second date in one day?”

“You are,” Fletcher said matter-of-factly, “and while he’s as good as he once was in short doses, his stamina isn’t what it used to be.”

“You and me both, buddy.” She laughed as she rubbed her side. “My obliques felt those laps more than they used to. I guess you’re the only ageless wonder here, Bouchard.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ll hold your own once you get used to working the old muscles again. You’ve still got a beautiful seat and a natural grace. That’ll show on camera or in person, even from a distance.”

Kylie’s smile flashed radiant with joy and relief, not the practiced expression calculated to look pretty, but a genuine grin stretching her cheeks and curling the fullness of her mouth. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, um.” Fletcher had lost all her breath, or had it stolen by the beauty of this woman, so close, so unguarded.

“I know you didn’t have to do this tonight,” Kylie continued, her voice softer. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d used my little meltdown as an excuse to throw in the towel. Maybe you did it because you wanted to get me out of your hair faster, but I still appreciate you being you again.”

Fletcher couldn’t find the air to force words past all the emotion in her throat, and her brain started to tinge red. She shook it away, fighting to hold onto anything she could grab rather than falling into the sincerity in those expressive eyes.

“It’s fine. You were always going to be good at this part,” she finally managed. “Why don’t you trot around the arena for a bit, but this time I want you to stay aware of the targets. Keep your eyes on them at all times. Angle your body so you’re oriented to each goal until the next one comes into view.”

Kylie nodded. “Sage advice, Fletch. You always were a little Yoda-esque in your teaching. Life lessons and archery lessons all in one evening. What else do you have for me?”

“Nothing,” she said flatly, swallowing the hint of panic the question inspired. She had nothing else to give Kylie. She hadn’t even made a conscious effort to give her this much. “I need to go check on the storm. I’ll be back.”

Kylie ran her hand down Winston’s neck. “We’ll be here as long as you’ll let us stay.”

She couldn’t even respond, not with her brain screaming for her to run. She managed to stride out of the arena at what she hoped looked more like a purposeful pace than a frantic retreat, but even if she managed to fool Kylie, she couldn’t keep her own rapid heartbeat from echoing through her ears.

Once fully in the barn, she leaned her back against a stall door and drew the deep breath she’d longed for back there. Nothing had happened, not really. Nothing she hadn’t survived a thousand times before. Kylie smiled at her, raw, open, genuine, a mere moment in a sea of memories. Was she so weak as to be leveled by the slightest hint of humanity?

Gritting her teeth and clenching her fists, she turned toward the door. She needed the cold slap of winter air to anchor herself. This whole day had been one assault on her mind after another. She needed to breathe, to think, to collect herself, and she’d be fine. She wasn’t a teenager driven silly with want. And she hadn’t been a shattered, angry, broken, twenty-two-year-old for more than ten years. She had her life and her sense of self all set. Despite Kylie’s last little quip, she wouldn’t be here forever, or even for as long as Fletcher would admit to wanting. She’d leave and Fletcher would watch her go again. At least this time neither of them would be surprised. They were used to surviving. Hell, she was great at it.

She intended to step outside only for a few minutes, to feel a chill come from somewhere other than inside herself. However, no sooner had she opened enough space to step through the door did she realize the storm hadn’t just picked up inside of her, it raged outside as well.

She lifted her hand to shield her eyes against the swirling snow to see her truck completely covered. Her chest tightened again as wind howling overhead caused trees to creak eerily. She gave a brief thought of trying to drive, or even sled Kylie back to town, but as if Mother Nature sensed the doubts forming in her mind, a crack rang out through the dark as a large branch broke and, from the sound of the thud, landed heavily near the mouth of the driveway.

She hung her head in surrender to the elements, the fates, and her own stupidity for not seeing this coming. Then closing the door, she steeled herself to go tell Kylie she’d have to stay the night.