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She smiled and bumped me with her shoulder as I assumed a similar position next to her. “She’s good.”
I nodded as Aya took the turn into the final barrel. She leaned to the side in the saddle, counterbalancing her steed when he seemed to slip a little.
“You wouldn’t know she hasn’t ridden in years.”
“She’s always been competitive,” Mama Grace said. “Like my Carter. Aya’s pride might be quiet, but from her report card to her hobbies, she pushed herself to be better than anyone around her.” Mama Grace turned to face me. “Not unlike you.”
“I guess.”
“Just like you both suffered terrible losses at too young an age.”
I pressed my lips together, refusing to think about the emotional havoc I’d caused Steve earlier. Lashing out at him didn’t solve my issues. Hell, it didn’t even make me feel better.
Yet my resentment toward him ran deep.
“And you both learned that you couldn’t trust anyone.” Mama Grace laid her hand on my shoulder. “Even each other.”
She dug right into the heart of the matter, not leaving any room for bullshit. This here, this was a parent. Except I knew from Cam that she’d made her own set of bad decisions, including one that set him on his personal spiral into hell.
“But this place, it’s safe—for both of you,” she continued. “Safe from your ongoing feud with Steve. From the media. This ranch is safe, Nash. Cam made sure of that.” She squeezed my shoulder before moving past me toward her house.
I waited for Aya to cool down the horse, pondering Mama Grace’s words. Because of Cam’s success and that of her other children’s spouses, Mama Grace was well acquainted with the dark side of fame. We all came here, to her home, to breathe, to be.
She was here for me if I needed to talk. Or yell and scream. She’d seen it all—and almost all of it from me. This place was a comfort to me, but it also had an edge. Steve had brought me back here after I’d told my mother I didn’t want to see her again, and just days later, she’d driven her car off a cliff.
Chuck took the reins from Aya after she slipped from the saddle. She walked toward me with a big grin. “That was fun, but I’m going to pay for it tomorrow.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Chafing?”
“Probably. And sore muscles.”
I kept my distance and noted she did the same. We’d have to move past this trepidation, this awkwardness that our past repeatedly brought up. If not… Well, I refused to think about that.
I’d spent time last night thinking about us—what I wanted from Aya and for my future. I was fighting for forever this time, and Aya would have to give it to me, along with her heart and her trust. And that was proving harder than either of us wanted to admit.
But Cam and Jenna were the happiest couple I’d ever seen, despite the heartache and pain they’d had to go through. So, Aya and I could make it. More importantly, our stubborn asses would make it.
I smirked. “Mama went back to the house to whip up lunch, no doubt,” I said.
“Want to go for a walk?” Aya asked, hopeful.
I nodded and followed as she led me across the wide field to the left of the house. This went to the creek and near Cam’s house.
She walked for a while before she pivoted and faced me. “How’s your hand?”
I shrugged.
“And your pride? Your head? Your heart?”
I frowned.
Her eyes filled with concern. “I hurt you last night, didn’t I? When I admitted this is hard for me?”
I didn’t like the shadows in her pretty face. “I think it’s more that I hurt myself.”
She stepped in closer, her movements slow, the way she would treat a skittish horse. I waited. She wrapped me in her arms.
“I don’t like talking about those years we spent apart,” she said, her voice low.
