by Kim Loraine
“Yeah. It’s just sitting there. I’m not living in it. You’re off in California. We both own it. I think we should sell it.”
“You can’t sell my house, Gina.”
“It’s mine too.”
Clenching my jaw, I sigh before I run my fingertips across my left hand where my wedding band used to be. “Why do you care so much? Money? Isn’t your rich boyfriend keeping you happy?”
She scoffs. “If you must know, we broke things off.”
I don’t offer her my condolences. “Gina, I got somewhere to be. Can we hurry this up?”
“I need a smaller place, Trav. It’s too hard here. Too many memories.”
I roll my eyes. Memories of what? Of her nights spent fucking some other chump in my bed while I was on shift? “I’ll get an appraisal. Buy you out if you need me to.”
A soft sigh fills the line, grating on my nerves. “Thank you. You know, even though things went south between us…I always—"
“No, Gina.”
I hang up and toss my phone across the cab. Even now she can get to me. It’s been months since I broke it off, months since I started a new life, but that woman can pull me back into her orbit with a single call whether I want her to or not. The only way to keep from making a mistake with her again is to stay far away. For two weeks after I found out about her and that asshole hotel owner, Dean, I spent every waking minute drunk off my ass feeling sorry for myself. Until I packed up my shit and got out of town, only returning once to say goodbye to my family and sign my divorce papers.
Tucking my keys in my pocket, I get out of the truck and slam the door a little too hard. The young colt in the paddock near where I’d parked lets out a distressed whinny. “Sorry, little fella. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
I walk to him and wait for him to come to me. He must’ve smelled the peppermint sticks I have in my pocket, because he prances over, ready for some attention. I stroke his neck and pull out a small chunk of peppermint for him, letting him lip at my palm as he tries to take the treat.
It feels good to be surrounded by the sounds and even the scents of a ranch. It reminds me there’s more to my life than the bad memories Gina caused. The only thing I brought with me from Sunrise was my horse, Ben. He’s been mine since I was eighteen. A graduation gift from my Uncle George and Aunt Sandy. I trained him alongside my cousins at Ryker Ranch until he and I knew each other better than I knew myself. There is nothing on this earth that would make me leave him behind. Even if boarding him costs me an arm and a leg.
“Hey there, Trav. You don’t have anyone on your schedule today. Coming in to take Ben for a ride?” Turning toward the sound, I catch sight of Kelsey Taylor, trainer, riding instructor, shameless flirt. She’s standing behind me, her jeans tighter than should be healthy, one hand cocked on her hip. She’s pretty, no doubt, but I’m not interested. I’ve made that clear on more than one occasion.
“Yes, ma’am. He needs it. I can’t let him get fat on me. He’s a ranch horse. He’s used to working.”
“You know, trail rides are more fun with company.” She bites her lower lip and seduction flashes in her eyes. Jesus, not now. It’s too early in the morning for me to let her down easy…again.
“I’m more of a loner, Kelsey. Ben and me, we like the quiet and the peace of solo rides.”
She pouts, twirling her hair. “Fine, but I’ll get you to give me a ride one day, Travis Ryker.”
My skin prickles with apprehension. She’s not going to let up. Best to ignore her and get to my horse. I tip my hat to her and stride toward Ben’s stall. My spurs jangle with each step, a comforting sound that makes my pulse calm. It’s like a blanket of normal covers me when I’m here. I’ll get Ben saddled, we’ll ride for an hour, maybe two if we feel like it, then I’ll go home and crash.
Except Ben isn’t in his stall when I get there. He isn’t grazing the paddock. He’s just…gone.
I look around, frowning as I survey the surroundings. How the hell do you lose a horse?
Did Hank take him out for something without telling me? Is Ben sick? Shit. Is he hurt? I remember when my cousins had a wild beast that needed breaking kick one of their older horses hard enough the poor thing had needed rehab. God, anything could have happened.
Taking a deep breath, I stride toward the office where the ranch owner always sits, managing schedules, dealing with calls. “Hank? What the hell’s going on?”
Hank’s in his chair, feet kicked up on the desk. “Travis, what’s got you in a panic?”
“My horse ain’t where he’s supposed to be. I pay you good money to keep him. I should be able to find him when I want.”
He checks the schedule, fingers running down the list of lessons and booked arena time. He won’t find me on that calendar. I ride in the open land, not enclosed in an arena. No need to book space for that. “He’s in Rojo’s stall right now. We had to do some repair work.”
My chest loosens and my shoulders relax as the weight of anxiety lifts. “Why wasn’t there a note on his door?”
Hank cocks a brow. “There was. You must’ve missed it.”
I turn and start for the stall at the far end of the stables, but Hank calls out, “You give any more thought to teaching lessons?”
I don’t look back, just wave a hand and continue on my path. Ben is standing in the paddock, his pitch black coat shining. Relief washes through my veins and calm overtakes me. A little bit of normal to round out my rough edges. Riding always helps me forget whatever else is going on. It’s the only way I deal.
“Come on, boy. We got a lot to work through today.”
Lark
Pop. Pop. Pop. I hear it clear as day as I ease my Vespa toward the end of the neighborhood street. I know it’s not real. Or at least, it’s not what I think it is. It can’t be. It’s a car backfiring. Not a gun.
Heart in my throat, I swallow the fear clutching my chest and close my eyes, counting down from ten as I sit at the stop sign. My watch buzzes against my wrist, bringing my focus to the appointment reminder I’d set for myself.
Shit.
I am going to be late.
It’s my first appointment, and I’m already going to start on the wrong foot.
I signal to turn left, then start across the two lanes on my way to the bike lane. But the sharp blare of a horn has me looking to my right a second time and seeing with absolute clarity the dark blue truck coming toward me. My only choice is to move faster. I can make it. Just a few more—
The truck’s bumper collides with my back tire and amid the screeching of brakes, the continuous blare of the horn, and my scream, I fall right back into the darkness I’d just clawed myself out of.
I don’t know what happened between the moment I flew through the air and the instant I hit the ground, all I know is, my whole body hurts. But I’m alive. Pain means I’m still here.
“Jesus Christ.” A man’s voice fills my ears, muffled from the shock that rattled my brain, but real. “Stay still. I’ll call an ambulance. I’m…fuck…I didn’t see you until it was too late.”
I blink a few times and take stock of my limbs. Aside from a scrape or two, I think I’m okay. The last thing I want is a ride in an ambulance. Sitting up, I let out a hiss of pain at the rough scratch on my elbow.
“Stop, you shouldn’t be moving. You could have internal injuries.”
“I’m fine. Just…a little rattled.” My words stick in my throat, and I can’t continue as a pair of soulful blue eyes lock onto mine. His perfectly chiseled cheekbones and jaw would be considered pretty if it weren’t for the lines around his eyes and the fatigue written all over his face.
Standing before he can stop me, I tear my gaze from him and focus on the mangled remains of my scooter. My purse is still across my torso, a little worse for wear, but functional, and when I take off my helmet, I have to fight a wave of nausea at the sight of the dent marring one side. If that had been my head, I wouldn’t be here right now.
“You hit me,
” I finally manage.
“You came out of nowhere.”
“There was no traffic when I crossed the road.”
“What the hell do you call me?”
I don’t know how to answer him, and honestly there’s no use arguing this. “The guy who ruined my Vespa.”
He reaches out, his fingers brushing my arm. “Let me at least take a look at this.”
“I’m okay. Dammit, I have someplace to be.”
I grab my Vespa and, with more effort than I want to admit, attempt to haul it out of the road. Of course, it weighs a ton. He helps me lift the thing, and I’m frustrated beyond belief that this is how my day is beginning.
“Can I take you home?” His rough voice makes my belly flutter.
“Excuse me?”
“Uh, home. Can I drop you somewhere? Your bike is trashed, I doubt you want to walk it home.”
His tight jeans and dark brown cowboy boots are such a contrast to the guys I’m used to. This man doesn’t belong here. He’s a transplant, same as me. Except I’ve been here two years now. I should feel more settled. Hell, I should feel a lot of things. Which is why I’ve been through five therapists in the last eighteen months.
“I have a meeting in Landry. I’m never going to make it now.”
His brows rise so high I can’t see them beneath the brim of his dark cowboy hat. “That’s a ways away.”
“You must be new here. There’s nothing in this town. Everything is a ways away.”
I try to take a step onto the curb, but my head spins and everything blurs for a moment, fading gray around the edges.
“Whoa.” He grips my arm and steadies me. “Come on, you need to get to a hospital and get checked out.”
“I don’t want to go to a hospital.” Panic clutches at me, threatening to take hold once again. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. I’m not letting you go anywhere until I know you won’t drop dead from internal bleeding.”
“Who are you, my dad?”
He grits his teeth, clenching his jaw hard enough a muscle ticks on one side. “I’ll call an ambulance if you won’t let me take you.”
Shit. I’m sure someone has peeked out their window and seen this little exchange already. Word will get around and before long, everyone in town will know about my accident. Which means eventually, my father will find out too. I might be twenty-one years old, but my dad still treats me like I’m fifteen. He means well, but he holds me tight and I don’t know if he’ll ever let go after everything we’ve been through.
“Fine, I’ll go to the hospital.”
He holds out a hand.
Cocking my head, I take him in fully. He’s clean, groomed, and he doesn’t creep me out. “Are you sure you’re not a serial killer?”
“Last time I checked I wasn’t.”
“That’s exactly the kind of thing a serial killer might say.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he stares hard at me. “Look, you want to fall over dead on the sidewalk, that’s your choice, but if I leave here without you in the truck with me, I’m calling this in.”
My head spins again, and all my banged up parts begin making themselves known. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I need to get a doctor to look me over. “Okay.”
He parks my Vespa in the grass before opening the passenger door of his pickup. Then, after I slide into the seat, the man closes the door for me and strides around to his side. He smells like clean air mixed with the slight hint of something spicy. It’s not at all a bad thing.
“Lark,” I say when he starts the truck up. “That’s my name.”
Tipping his hat, he says, “Travis.”
He pulls into traffic and every jostle of the truck’s cab makes me wince. Dammit, but he’s right. I do need to be seen. But with each mile that passes my anxiety blossoms in my chest. It takes hold and becomes a living thing by the time we’re in the parking lot.
“You okay? You’re clutching the door handle so hard your knuckles are white.”
I can’t talk. The last time I saw the inside of a hospital my mom died. The time before that…well…the scar on my right shoulder throbs with the memory.
“Lark, hey.” He touches me, his warm palm pulling me from the ice-cold adrenaline-fueled haze.
“I can’t. I can’t go in there.”
“You’re bleeding. You need to get that looked at.”
I glance down my arm and sure enough, my left elbow is a mess of blood. He gets out of the truck and opens my door, one hand held out for me to take. I don’t want to do this. I don’t think I can. But Travis coaxes me out of the cab and step by step, we make our way into the emergency room lobby.
“God love a small town,” he mutters under his breath.
There’s one other person in the lobby, an intake nurse who immediately pulls me to a chair, gets my birth date, vitals, and everything else she needs.
In minutes I’m in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines that take my pulse and blood pressure, and Travis is still here.
“You can go.” I fight the wave of discomfort that rises in my blood. I don’t want to be here. I need to get out of this place.
“No way. Your pulse is way too high and so’s your BP.” He takes my hand and sits next to the bed. “It’ll get worse if you’re alone. Besides, I got you into this. I need to make sure you get home okay.”
“I bet you were a boy scout, weren’t you?”
He chuckles. “Maybe.”
“Did you make it all the way to Eagle Scout?”
Shaking his head, he takes off his cowboy hat and places it on the chair next to him. I like his dark curls, but I also really like the way his eyes flash with interest when he looks at me. “Afraid not. But I learned a lot about tying knots.”
Is he flirting with me in the emergency room? I think so. The amusement in his voice has my cheeks heating and I have to drop my gaze from his. “So you use that in your master serial killer plans?”
“My knot-tying skills?”
“Yeah.”
He shrugs. “Nah, too much trouble. I save the rope for…other purposes.”
Flashes of what he could do with some rope and a four poster bed hit me before I can stop my mind from going there. Yes, please. I’m not all that experienced, but Travis can show me what he knows. I won’t mind him teaching me. Not one bit.
The doctor finally comes in, pushing the privacy curtain open and staring down at the chart in her hands.
She looks me up and down, her shrewd gaze taking in every inch of the sexy cowboy next to me. I’m surprised Travis doesn’t even give her an interested once over. Serena Talbot is one of the most beautiful and intelligent women in this town. I still can’t believe she’s single. She looks like Halle Berry’s long lost sister. “Lark, how are you?”
“I told him I’m fine, but he insists I need to be seen.”
Travis straightens in his seat. “I clipped her Vespa and she went flying. She was wearing a helmet, but she could have internal injuries.”
Doctor Talbot nods and smiles. “She could. And who are you?”
“Travis Ryker, ma’am.”
She cocks a brow. “Ma’am? Normally that would piss me right off, but the way you say it is…charming.”
“Is she gonna be okay?” His tone is serious, no hint of flirting to be found.
I sigh. “I’m fine. Except for this scrape on my elbow.”
But she shakes her head and trains her warm brown eyes on me. “You’re a terrible patient, Lark. Let me do my job before I call your dad.”
That shuts me up. The last thing I need is my father worrying. “Okay, okay. Check me out, patch me up, and get me out of here, will you?”
She checks my vitals, something the intake nurse already did, but Serena is thorough. “Do you want him to step outside while I examine you?”
Travis moves to stand but the idea of being here by myself for any length of time has my heart racing.
“No. I…I don’t want to be alo
ne after you’re done.”
He takes my hand and squeezes. “I’m right here. It’s gonna be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I stare into his eyes and know he can’t actually guarantee that, but the comfort of being near him, the soothing sound of his deep voice, brings me back to the moment. Taking long, slow breaths, I focus on his irises, pools of blue I could fall into.
Serena gives me an exam, cleans and bandages my cut, and releases me with a prescription for some heavy-duty Ibuprofen and a warning I might be sore for a few days.
Travis and I head to the parking lot, his hand on the small of my back in a protective gesture. I don’t hate it. In fact, I want him to keep touching me. But, our time together is over. He’s got no reason to stay with me, and I can’t think of a way to keep him.
I pull my phone from my purse and start scrolling, searching for our local cab company.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling a cab.”
He chuckles. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to stay here all day.”
Grinning, he takes my phone and taps the screen a few times before he hands it back. “You have a ride.”
“Do I?” Amusement colors my tone.
“If you want one.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
Shrugging, he pulls his keys from his pocket. “We don’t have to. You’ve had a rough morning. You know what always helps fix a bad day?”
“Sex?”
He chokes on his laugh. “Well, yeah…sure.” Running a hand over the back of his neck, he stares down at his boots. “I was gonna suggest pie.”
“Pie first.”
Those blue eyes find mine, and I have to fight not to suck in a sharp breath at the heat in them. “Pie first.”
Ignite
Contemporary Romance
* * *
Until the Stars Fade Get this FREE by joining my Facebook Group: Loraine Lovers
* * *
Ryker Ranch
* * *