Authors: Paige Weaver
Tags: #romance, #contemporary romance, #New Adult
~~~~
A soft noise woke me.
I lay in bed and listened. There it was again. A small ding.
Something was being thrown against my window. The fog of sleepiness
cleared. I threw off the covers and rushed over to the windowsill. In
the dark I could barely make out Ryder standing a few feet from the
house. When he saw me peeking out the window, he motioned me
outside.
I glanced at the clock as I passed my nightstand. Two a.m. Closing
time. I sighed. The typical time Ryder seemed to show up around here.
Drunk, bruised, and bleeding. One too many drinks and far too many
fights.
Tiptoeing out of my bedroom, I moved silently down the hallway. The
floorboards creaked, protesting when my bare feet stepped on them. I
stopped and listened, hoping the noise didn’t wake my dad. The sound
of his snoring echoed through the thin walls of the house, letting me
know that I was safe from discovery.
The smell of rain hit me when I opened up the back door. I jogged
down the porch steps, ignoring the sound of thunder rumbling somewhere
in the distance.
Halfway across the yard, I stopped and looked around, searching for
Ryder in the pitch-blackness.
“Ryder!” I whispered, becoming frustrated. He better not have
woken me up from a dead sleep to turn around and go back home. I would
kill him. Well, after I got a few more hours of sleep.
I started to go back inside when two hands grabbed me around the
waist, familiar with my body. I yelped and spun around, my heart leaping
into my throat.
Ryder stood in front of me, a silly, lopsided grin on his face.
“Hello, beautiful.”
“Ryder, you scared me to death!” I shrieked, smacking his hands
away.
“How’s my newly graduated friend?” he asked, weaving on his
feet.
“Are you drunk, Ryder?”
He leaned closer, smelling faintly of beer but still like himself -
something woodsy and oh, so manly.
“I might be drunk. Got a problem with that, little girl?”
I ignored the threat I heard in his voice. Ryder was anything but
dangerous. To others, he was deadly. Fatal. To me, he was…dark and
full of attitude, but never dangerous. More like a baby cub wanting to
play. You just had to handle him right and be careful of his knife-like
claws and razor sharp teeth.
A single raindrop chose that moment to land on my nose. I glanced up
at the sky just as another fat raindrop hit my forehead. A big clap of
thunder boomed overhead followed by a flash of lightning across the
sky.
“Oh, hell, it’s gonna rain,” Ryder muttered, swaying as he
glanced up at the sky also. “Can’t have you getting wet.”
He grabbed my hand, threading his fingers through mine. It seemed the
most natural thing in the world to do.
With a firm grip on me, he led me across the yard at a jog. I ran
after him, never letting go of his hand, knowing he was running slow so
I could keep up.
When we got to the barn doors, the sky opened up. Buckets of rain
started falling, splattering mud on my bare feet and leaving me soaking
wet.
Laughing, I stood in the downpour and waited patiently as Ryder threw
open the heavy barn doors. Pulling me inside, he hurried to shut the
doors against the slashing rain and wind.
Inside it smelled like leather, horses, and musty hay. One of my
favorite places on the farm.
We stopped in the middle of the barn, dry hay beneath our feet.
Lightning flashed again from somewhere outside, lighting up everything
for a split second. It gave me enough light to see what stood before me.
A perfect specimen.
Letting go of my hand, Ryder took a step closer, his body almost
touching mine.
The laughter died on my lips. Since when did standing so close to
Ryder make my heart flutter and my palms sweat?
I couldn’t move. He smelled like rain and aftershave. I wanted to
remember that combination forever.
Towering over me, he appeared dangerous. Powerful. My eyes dropped
down to his wet shirt, clinging to his chest like a second skin. I
reminded myself that we weren’t kids anymore. He was a man and I
was…standing too close to him.
I took a step back and tried to control my heartbeat. It was pounding
like I had just run a marathon. One touch from him would send me across
the finish line.
Reaching out, he brushed my wet hair away from my cheek, his fingers
touching my skin.
“You look like a drowned cat, Maddie.” The deep rumble of his
voice ran through me, making me tingle in all the right places. How
words could do that to a person, I don’t know.
When his fingers lingered on my cheek, I moved away, afraid for him
to touch me. It wasn’t the touch of a friend. It was the touch of two
adults wanting something more.
I walked over to a horse stall, glancing back at him once or twice.
He watched me, his eyes moving up and down my body slowly. My tank top
and baggy shorts suddenly didn’t feel like enough clothing.
Heat touched every inch of my skin, racing through me like a fire out
of control. I tried to convince myself that the flush I felt was because
of the heat of the summer storm but who was I kidding? It was Ryder and
nothing else.
“Why are you here, Ryder?” I asked, my voice wispy.
He stalked toward me, his hips rolling casually with each step he
took. His boots kicked up loose pieces of hay on the ground, dragging my
attention down his long legs to the toes of his scuffed boots. I watched
as those boots drew closer, pursuing me. Dragging my eyes up his body, I
tried to get a hold of myself.
“You’re going back to college in a week. I just wanted to hang
out with you. I miss your stubborn ass when you’re gone,” he said,
giving me a crooked grin.
“That’s nice, Ryder. Can you be any sweeter?” I said
sarcastically. Something more heartfelt would have been nice to hear but
this was Ryder. He didn’t do sweet.
Stopping in front of me, he shrugged, his muscular shoulders moving
under his wet shirt. “I’ll miss your ass. Just telling the
truth.”
What was he doing? He wasn’t flirting because…well, because we
were just friends. It had to be the alcohol talking.
“You can come visit me anytime you like, Ryder,” I said, kicking
myself when the words sounded sexy. Inviting.
I saw his grin widen in the darkness, looking like the cat that ate
the canary.
“You won’t want me around,” he said.
My heart beat faster. Damn thing.
“I’ll always want you around, Ryder.”
“And I’ll always be there,” he said, his voice lower.
“Wanting to be around you. Never needing anything else.”
~~~~
Birds flying out of a thicket startled the horse, jerking me out of
my memories and bringing me back to the present.
Knowing I needed to focus on what I was doing, I sat up straighter in
the saddle and tried to push the image of Ryder that night out of my
mind. But as my destination drew closer, my heart became heavier with
the memories of him.
It is why I needed to be alone. To grieve. To accept that he was
gone. To come to terms with the fact that he may never return to me. I
needed to be beside my dad to do that.
I missed both of them, Ryder and my father. I had lost both too soon.
They were the two people who knew me better than anyone else. I was
afraid my heart would never heal or be the same again without the two of
them.
I replayed Cash’s words that day. Words that would stick with me
forever; “He’s dead, Maddie. I don’t want to have to tell you, but
he’s dead.”
Pulling back on the reins, I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting the pain
and sense of loss to go away.
Ryder was dead. Now I was only existing. Lost. Torn apart until
nothing was left but a bleeding heart. It had only been two months since
he rode away but it felt as if a lifetime had passed.
The tears fell faster now, making it hard to breathe and focus. The
baby chose that moment to kick, reminding me that I still had Ryder with
me. A piece of him would live on, even if he didn’t.
I wiped a tear away and pulled back on the reins when the horse
stomped her foot, antsy to get moving again. When I refused to give her
free rein, she shook her head and pulled at her bit, stubbornly trying
to get her way.
“Settle down, girl,” I said, patting her neck.
Without warning, apprehension raced up my spine. I looked toward the
line of trees that marked the beginning of the woods. Nothing moved and
nothing seemed out of the ordinary but I felt nervous just the same.
Nudging the horse with my heels, I let her start walking again. Her
hooves clomped on the hard, cold ground, the only noise around.
I buried my gloved hands further down into my pockets, searching for
any smidgen of warmth as the cold, bitter wind blew down from the north.
My nose and chin were slowly becoming numb from exposure. I stuck my
face further down into the upturned collar of Ryder’s jacket and
instantly smelled him – a woodsy scent that brought tears to my eyes.
I inhaled deeply and held back a sob, biting my lip painfully to keep
from crying out. Wrapping one arm around my middle in comfort, I let the
horse lead me home.
I was halfway there when I saw the house looming off in the distance.
I couldn’t say I was happy to see it. It was the home I grew up in,
the house I spent my childhood in, but for me, it held horrible
memories. Being held down against my will. Fighting for my life. Killing
a man. I would never forget what happened behind those walls. The
nightmare still haunted me to this day.
The horse clomped over a small hill, not in any rush. I held tightly
to the reins as we crested the rise. From there, I could see the large
oak tree beneath where my dad was buried. I felt the familiar tug of
grief when I saw the crude cross marking his grave. My throat closed up
tight in that tell-tale sign of sorrow.
Drawing closer to the tree, I avoided looking at the house. My eyes
darted down to the shotgun, placed in the scabbard of the saddle, within
easy reach if I needed it.
I scoffed as I imagined my former college classmates out in the
middle of nowhere, riding a horse in winter, a shotgun by their side.
For me, it was how I grew up. For others, I knew it would be a foreign
lifestyle. My dad once told me that women could do anything a man could
do. This new life tested that theory. So far, I had survived. Sometimes
on my own and sometimes with the help of others, but I survived.
Now here I was alone, just my horse, my gun, and my unborn baby in
the middle of nowhere Texas with a war raging around us. I was stubborn
and I was strong. Every day my dad’s words rang in my ear, reminding
me of just that. ‘You can do anything you want, Maddie. You’re smart
and you’re resilient. Don’t let anybody tell you differently.’
I wasn’t going to let this war prove him wrong.
Stopping the horse a few feet from my father’s grave, I threw my
leg over the saddle and dismounted. My boots felt heavy as I walked to
the base of the tree. Leaning over, I brushed some dead leaves away from
the grave and pulled a few weeds from around the crude cross.
I ran my gloved fingers over the rough, wooden cross. The horse
nickered behind me then nudged me in the back with her soft-as-velvet
nose. I ignored her and squatted down on the cold ground.
“I miss you, Dad,” I said. “The war is still going strong and
people are still dying.” I placed a hand on my stomach, tears stinging
my eyes. “The baby is growing. I wish you could be here to meet him or
her. But I’m scared, Dad. I don’t know if I can do this without
Ryder.”
Only silence answered me.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, struggling to get the words
out. “They think he’s dead. If Ryder’s with you, please tell him
that I love him. I will never forget him, Dad. Please let him
know.”
I pulled my knitted hat lower over my ears and glanced up at the tree
swaying above me in the wind. Beneath my grief, I felt that small amount
of hope that wouldn’t disappear no matter how much Gavin told me to
face reality.
“But I still think he’s alive, Dad.”
The horse snorted behind me and stomped her foot impatiently.
I took a deep breath and pushed myself to my feet. Glancing up at the
sky, I shivered. A cold, bitter wind blew around me, sending leaves
swirling around my legs. I had planned on staying longer but the clouds
looked like they held sleet and threatened bone-chilling temperatures. I
needed to go.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said to the horse. But I was really trying
to talk myself into leaving. I wanted to stay. Each goodbye hurt despite
not receiving a response back.
“Bye, Dad.”
Putting my foot in the stirrup, I pulled myself into the saddle. The
leather creaked as I reached for the reins. Turning the horse around, I
headed home.
I was halfway home when uneasiness hit me. Pulling back on the reins,
I glanced around, twisting in the saddle to look behind me. Nothing.
Everything seemed peaceful and quiet but I still felt as if someone was
watching me.
Feeling like a sitting duck so high on a horse, I slid off, keeping
the reins wrapped around my hand. Pulling the shotgun out of the
scabbard, I checked to make sure it was loaded, even though I had done
it at least twice before leaving.
The horse scrambled around me nervously, her large hooves coming
within inches of stepping on my feet. Her huge body bumped against mine,
almost knocking me off my feet.
“Whoa!” I said in a hushed tone, pulling on the reins to calm her
as I watched the tree line in the far distance.
My eyes scanned the area, searching for whatever had made me tense.
Trees full of brown leaves blew in the wind, hiding whatever was behind
them. Everything looked peaceful but I had a feeling I wasn’t
alone.
Maybe it was nothing. Just nerves getting the better of me. I started
to remount when a slight movement caught my eye.