The Impossible Art of Falling (Impossible Art #1) (8 page)

The night air had cooled down, and he shivered a bit, as the breeze blew in through the open window. There was another blanket in the chest at the end of the bed that he could grab. He didn’t want to shut the window. As he rose to get it, he heard the slide of the barn door, and he froze. Was someone coming down, or was a horse trying to get out? Quickly, he pulled on a t-shirt and jeans before hurrying to check things out. He stopped in the doorway when he heard a soft voice. Slowly, he peeked around the corner, and there she was. Jena was in the barn, standing in her horse’s stall. She was speaking to her horse so softly, he couldn’t hear her. The moonlight streamed through the door at the end of the aisle and framed her silhouette. She was beautiful. Jena wrapped her arms around her horse, and Luke could see the glimmer of a tear falling down her cheek. Gatsby stood absolutely still, as she gripped him tightly. This was a private moment, and he was intruding. Still, he couldn’t pull himself away. He had a strange feeling. Like he wanted to protect her. He wanted to take her small frame and wrap his arms around her. He wanted to bury his face in her corn silk hair. He wanted to feel her small arms around him. At last, she moved away, stepping out of the stall and back into the aisle. The door quietly clicked closed, and Luke moved back around the corner, swallowed in shadow before he could be discovered. Without another sound, Jena slipped out of the barn and Luke instantly felt her absence. She had finally come down to the barn, and Luke was more intrigued than ever. Rob had said that she had some things going on, but had never gone into detail. Each day, he was drawn to her more and more. Why was she out here at night? Why was she crying? What had her life been like before she came? Again, as he wondered what it could possibly be, this strange urge to protect her came over him.

Luke headed back to his room and lay back down in his bed. He rolled onto his side, the blanket forgotten, for his body suddenly felt warmer. He smiled to himself as he fell asleep, dreaming about a girl who didn’t haunt him. Instead, he dreamt about the girl with the golden hair.

chapter 9

L
UKE LAY AWAKE, LISTENING to the
ting ting
of the rain, drumming on the tin roof of the barn. He listened for her to come into the barn. She had come consistently for the last week. She would spend an hour in Gatsby’s stall, talking quietly to him. She stroked his silky muzzle, ran her hands over his smooth shoulder and brushed his long mane and tail. He often sat outside of his door, hidden in the shadows, listening. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, but all he needed to hear was her melodic tone. Sometimes there were tears, and he ached with want and desire to brush her sadness away. She spoke to her horse more and more each night, and he had begun to wish it was him she was talking to instead.

The physical effect of her nightly visits with her horse was stunning. Her face had held a haunting beauty when she first came. Now, there was color to her cheeks, and her eyes had begun to shine. She no longer looked so lost in herself. She worked dutifully in the office with Meg but no longer dragged her feet to get there. She seemed genuinely happy to be helping.

Luke had also changed. He had never felt this way about anyone, had never felt such a strong urge to be with someone so desperately. During the day, he found his gaze seeking her out. Their days were spent working near each other in silence, although she smiled at her more and more. He loved to watch her blush when she caught him watching her, and so he found himself watching her constantly when she was in the room. Hopefully, Meg and Rob hadn’t noticed too much. He didn’t want them to see how he was beginning to feel. He wanted to be near her. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to know more.

Of course, there was Kyle to contend with as well, although with Jena around, Luke was often able to avoid him more. The hardest part was watching Kyle look at her, too. He found that he was jealous and felt a primal urge to step in and protect her. Especially, since the last thing of Luke’s that Kyle touched was now gone.

Luke and Kyle had such a tumultuous past. They had shared a similar life at one time, but now, Luke simply wanted to get away from the other man. He felt as if Kyle were constantly sizing him up. Judging him for what had happened. Blaming him as much as he blamed himself.

Luke closed his eyes and willed the thoughts out of his mind. He did not want to think about Kyle or his sister right now. He wanted to listen for the other girl. The one who calmed his mind and was working her way into his heart. Today, he had decided that when she came into the barn, he would go to her. He would talk to her. Or at least try. Maybe she was ready to say something back.

The sound of the latch on the barn door pulled him out of his thoughts, and he shifted upright in bed. She was coming. The rain hadn’t scared her away, as he had worried. Tonight would be the night. He listened from his doorway, to the squishing sound of her rubber boots on the concrete floor. She opened Gatsby’s door and slipped in. Within moments, he could hear the sing-song lilt of her voice, as she purred at her horse.

Without a sound, he slipped from the dark confines of his room and made his way down the barn aisle. He hesitated at the corner and took a deep breath. She was still talking, her voice surrounding him.

“Hey,” he whispered, slipping out from the shadows and making his presence known. “Couldn’t sleep?” It was a question he hoped that she would answer.

Her mouth opened to speak, and he could see her freeze up. Not wanting her to leave, he continued to talk.

“You don’t have to answer,” he said, holding his hands out in surrender. “That was a stupid question anyway. I mean, it is almost midnight and clearly, you can’t sleep if you’re out here. I’m sure you didn’t set your alarm or anything, just to come out here…” He trailed off, realizing that he was rambling and shoved his hands into his pockets. He stole a glance at Jena and was rewarded with a smile from her. Gatsby took a step forward, pushed against the stall door and nickered at Luke. Apparently, he had been giving the big horse too many treats. Luke laughed and began to pull a peppermint out of his pocket. At the sound of his laugh, Jena relaxed further and watched him feed her horse.

I should answer him
, Jena thought, as she watched Luke reach over the stall door to pat her horse’s neck, then step back. It was just the two of them in here. No expectations, she reminded herself. And he didn’t know anything about her. He didn’t know anything about her past. He didn’t know about the accident. She rationalized to herself that it might be nice to have someone to talk to. She looked at Gatsby who was nudging her, as if in encouragement. Jena inhaled, filling her lungs, then blew her breath out.

“No, I couldn’t sleep,” she managed to say.

“When I can’t sleep,” Luke added, “I find the peace of the horses helps me. Granted, I do sleep out here, so I guess I am surrounded by their nighttime sounds.”

“I’m sorry,” Jena said, the conversation getting easier when she saw that Luke didn’t react to the sound of her voice. He wasn’t shocked that this was the first real conversation she had had with anyone since coming to Townsend. Or if he was, he never let on. Little did she know, he had been listening to her speak for the last week. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“No, Oscar snores,” he said, pointing to the old gray gelding in the corner, who twitched an ear and smacked his lips together before emitting the sound of a soft snore again.

Jena giggled and Luke melted at the sound. This was going better than he had hoped. He hung his muscular arms over Gatsby’s stall and stroked the gelding on the nose, immediately feeling the proximity of Jena.

“Hey there, buddy,” Luke said, grabbing another peppermint out of his pocket to give to him. “He certainly likes his treats.” Jena was still standing next to him, feeling every inch between the two of them, her hand on the horse’s shoulder.

“He always got treats for a job well done,” Jena said.

“What did you do with him?” Luke asked, with caution.

He doesn’t know
Jena reminded herself.
He has no idea what I did before, so it’s an innocent question
, she thought.

“Eventing,” she replied, deciding on the truth. “He was an eventing horse.” She purposely left herself out of the equation.

Luke noticed how she said “was” and thought it strange. She talked about it as if he was no longer capable of doing it, yet he seemed more fit than most horses Luke had ever seen. He wanted to ask her about it, but he could hear the tension in Jena’s voice. Now was not the time to push for answers.

“Well, he seems happy here,” Luke said, instead of one of the million questions that he wanted to ask.

“Yes, he does,” Jena said. She gave him a definitive pat on the shoulder and turned as if to leave the stall, forgetting that Luke was blocking her exit. His eyes caught hers, and they stood in silence, lost in each other’s eyes. Without a hat to hold it back, his hair fell over his blue eyes, as if to shield the intensity of his gaze. Jena could feel the electricity humming in the air between them, and her breath caught in her throat. A breeze blew through the open door and scattered a few pieces of hay down the aisle. Somewhere outside, an owl called out. The rain had stopped, leaving only the sound of dripping water. Luke reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair off of her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Jena could feel the exact path of his touch, as the heat spread over her. Her mouth parted, and he was lost in her eyes. Finally, he managed to pull away.

“If you ever can’t sleep again, I’d be happy to run into you again out here,” Luke whispered and then turned to leave the doorway of Gatsby’s stall, freeing Jena’s exit.

“Thanks,” Jena whispered, her hand still on the gelding’s shoulder. Luke smiled one last time and walked back down the aisle. He disappeared around the corner, back toward his room, not wanting to overstay his welcome. Besides, he didn’t know if he would be able to stop himself from pulling her into his arms and kissing her senseless.

Jena stood for a moment and watched him retreat. Despite the lack of rain, she pulled her hood over her head and clutched her coat tightly, noticing a chill in the air now that Luke was gone. She latched Gatsby’s door and plodded back down the aisle to head back out into the night. What a night this had turned out to be. And Luke seemed full of surprises. Gone was the man who glared at her, or looked at her in confusion when she first came. This was the man who sent heat rushing through her body just by looking at her. And now, the one who she could actually talk to. The one that made her feel things she had never felt before. Perhaps moving here was better for her than she ever thought.

chapter 10

T
HE NEXT MORNING, IT WAS Luke who stumbled out of bed reluctantly. It had taken him a while to fall asleep, because his head had been so full of Jena. The way her hair tangled over her shoulders, her hand placed delicately on her horse’s neck, the way she had smiled at him last night from her horse’s stall. He was falling, and he was falling hard for this girl. At last, he remembered breakfast and jumped out of bed, excited at the chance to see her again. He pulled on his jeans, t-shirt, and boots and started out of the door, only to be stopped by the torrential downpour that had begun again outside. In his stupor, he hadn’t even heard the storm come in. A crack of thunder sounded as a streak of lightening shot overhead, momentarily brightening the sky. The rain last night had intensified and turned into a full blown storm. How had he missed this? He really must have been distracted. He reached back into his room and grabbed a rain parka, throwing it over his shoulders and head.

Luke waited for just a moment before dashing out into the rain toward the house. Mud sloshed around his boots, and his parka offered little protection. Tiny droplets of rain fell down his neck and face, but within seconds, he was climbing the stairs of the porch and was under its protection.

“Make sure you take your boots off and shake the rain off before you come in, Luke!” Meg yelled from inside. Obediently, he slipped his mud covered boots off and placed them to the side. He ran a hand through his hair to get some of the water out. He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and lifted it up to wipe his face, but it was just as wet and merely added more rain to his already wet face. His shirt and jeans were a lost cause. He should have actually put his jacket on, instead of just draping it over his body. He would just need to sit through breakfast in damp clothes.