A New Pair of Steel Shoes
Page 3
Why, he still couldn’t figure out. Last time he checked, Birch couldn’t be bothered doing much without the promise of food. He was likely to never know what inspired her to bust free and have a little adventure. Just another one of life’s little mysteries.
He attached the lead rope to her halter, brought her into the barn. For the next twenty minutes he took the time to carefully groom her coat and pick out her hooves, again mystified about her shoes, merely shaking his head when he noticed the glittery sparkle remained. Once she was tacked up and ready to go, he led her out behind the barn with plans to hit the trails. He checked her girth one more time to make sure it was snug, stepped onto the mounting block and swung gracefully into the saddle. All the while her ears twitched back and forth, her tail swishing.
The morning was pleasant, the temperature low enough to verge on chilly, that telltale autumn nip in the air. Soon he would be wearing sweaters and shopping for winter boots, curling up on the couch under a blanket with the crackle of a fire to help him relax. And though he enjoyed the beauty of the fall colors as well as the sweets designated for Halloween and all the yummy food served up on Thanksgiving, it also meant trying to find a fun and funky costume for Eleanor’s Halloween party.
And it looked like he would be attending the affair dateless.
Not wanting to dwell on his lack of companionship, he spurred Birch into a trot and tried to focus solely on the sounds of the chipper birds, the way the soybeans, yellowed and more than ready to be harvested, swayed hypnotically under the touch of the breeze. Slowly, the barn disappearing behind them, the tension eased from his body, his worries and doubts melting away. In the saddle the rest of the world ceased to exist, it became just him and Birch, and he laughed, the sound bubbling up out of him before he could stop it. How foolish he had been to even contemplate for a minute that he might be able to give it all up in the name of love.
“Only what I had with Marsh wasn’t love,” he said, one of Birch’s ears flicking back at the sound of his words. A wave of sorrow swept over him, a cry of pain echoing in his chest. “Of course, at the rate I’m going, Birch, you’re going to be the only love in my life.”
Birch snorted, shaking her head, almost as though she understood what he said. He was about to signal for her to slow back to a walk, a blind turn coming up on the trail, one that led into a stretch of forest, but before he could ask for the transition she shied to the side. Then took off at a canter, racing along the well-worn path, Nathan grasping for a handful of her mane, once again caught by surprise. Unlike last time, however, he saw no reason for her sudden burst of energy, there had been nothing in the surrounding fields to frighten her, leaving him to suspect she may have been stung by a bee or bitten by a fly.
Either way, he quickly found himself in a battle of wits with an animal that greatly outweighed him and was capable of thinking on its own. Horses were wired for fight or flight just like any other prey animal, and nine times out of ten they chose the option of flight. Nathan did everything in his power to get her to slow down, recalling every aid he learned over the years, even tried forcing her to turn, but somehow she’d gotten hold of the bit, leaving him the helpless rider along for the ride. All he could do was hope and pray as she thundered through the woods that she didn’t slam them into a tree. Neither of them would survive the accident.
And it would be hours before anyone thought to come looking for them.
Dread settled like a cold burning coil in the pit of his stomach. Nathan leaned over her neck to avoid low hanging branches, hanging on and waiting for her energy to burn out. She couldn’t keep going at this pace forever. The chilled air stung his face and made his eyes water. He wanted to shut them or turn his head aside, afraid if he took his eyes off of what lay ahead of him, he might just wind up on the ground or splattered against one of the trees. As the thought crossed his mind, a wayward branch scraped his arm, Nathan crying out in shock and surprise.
Birch zigged and zagged and then Nathan saw the downed tree ahead. It lay across their path, sitting slightly higher on one side. His heart jumped into his throat, his hold on the reins tightening. This time he did squeeze his eyes shut as he fully expected one of two things to happen. Either Birch would slam on the brakes, skidding toward the downed tree and thus tossing him over her head, or she would attempt to make the jump, clip the fallen object, and go head over heels, landing on top of him in the process. Neither outcome sounded promising.
Time slowed.
She jumped, clearing the obstacle with seemingly practiced ease.
Landing on the other side, Nathan was nearly jostled from the saddle. Tears burned his eyes, a few spilling free.
And then just like that, as quickly as she’d taken off, Birch slowed, downshifting until she was standing perfectly still near the shores of a river. She gave an all over body shake, nickered, and lowered her head to the cold water. Birds chirped. Brightly colored leaves danced on branches, some drifting slowly down to the carpet already covering the forest floor. Nathan could feel each deep breath Birch took, and though she had been the one exerting herself, he highly doubted her heart was racing as much as his.
Slowly he sat up; sweat coating the palms of his hands, his knuckles white and aching from the tight hold. He loosened his grip, refusing to let go of the reins completely in case she got it in her head to go for another inspired run. For a few minutes they just stood there, Birch unfazed by her dash from hell and Nathan trying to get over his nerves. There was also the minor issue of not knowing exactly where they were, no visible trail in sight. This sparked a new wave of fear.
Lost in the woods.
Nobody knew he was out riding.
“Way to go, moron,” he grumbled. At the sound of his voice Birch reached back, nosed the toe of his right boot, and had it been any other day, Nathan would have found it cute. Today, however, it struck a match inside of him and his fear quickly morphed into anger. He tossed down the reins and threw his hands up in the air. “You’ve gotten us lost,” he barked at Birch. “Hopelessly lost and all because of what, a shadow? A big bad shadow that was going to eat you? I swear…” the words trailed off. Why, he wondered, was he yelling at his horse? Hadn’t it been Eleanor who taught him the horse was never to blame? He should have tried harder to pull her up. Nathan’s shoulders slumped as the anger left him. He gave Birch a friendly pat on the neck. “I’m sorry, girl. These last few days have been frustrating.” Hands resting on his thighs, eyes scanning their surroundings for any clue to where they might be, he said, “I hope you know the way home, because I have no idea where to go.”
Birch nodded her head.
“Fine, take us home.”
Much to his surprise, she swung around and started through the woods. Nathan picked up the reins, keeping them loose, and let her find the way. One good thing about horses was they always wanted to go back home, usually with more vigor than they left it with, obviously that was not the case at that moment.
“I sure hope you know where you’re going.”
Chapter 5
Sometime later, he couldn’t exactly be sure but it had probably been about two hours, Birch led him into a familiar backyard behind a house he’d visited days earlier. Of all the places she thought to bring him…She went right for the remains of the garden, nosing around at the few pieces of greenery that remained. Nathan merely shook his head, too tired to figure out how they could have left the barn for a simple trail ride, gotten lost in the woods, and end the adventure in the backyard of Lucas’s house.
The idea of riding another seven miles just to get back to the barn sounded unappealing.
Nathan attempted to dismount, landing on his butt in the disturbed earth. He was surprised to find his legs shaky, the muscles of his thighs aching.
“Are you okay?” Lucas’s voice drew his gaze toward the back porch where he spotted the photographer coming down the wooden steps.
Foolishly, Nathan made no attempt to stand.
“Nathan
?” Concern laced the simple utterance of his name.
“I…um…”
By now the photographer was at his side, crouching, eyes scanning Nathan’s prone form in search of injuries. Aware of the scrutiny, Nathan felt heat rise in his cheeks and the familiar flutter in his stomach. And oddly enough, he wished for some injury, some cut he could use to garner sympathy from Lucas, perhaps get himself a little personal doctoring. The blush deepened as his brain took the doctor idea and ran with it. Mentally, in the blink of an eye, he wound up in the loving arms of Lucas, lips dancing proactively while hands sought to touch private places in hopes of bringing waves of pleasure.
Nathan’s mouth went dry and he averted his gaze, afraid Lucas might see the erotic thoughts passing through his mind.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he stammered. “Just…tired and a bit disoriented.” Lucas stood, offering him a hand, which Nathan was tentative to take at first. Realizing the man might think him rude or something worse, Nathan attempted to push down his temptations while placing his hand in Lucas’s. As soon as their palms touched, he felt a jolt, knowing for certain this time his heart skipped a beat. Instantly his eyes swung around to lock onto Lucas’s, neither of them speaking as Nathan once again found his footing. Even with his feet under him, Lucas kept hold of his hand.
His touch burned.
And Nathan found himself wishing Lucas would make him melt.
Turned out he wasn’t the only one having that thought, apparently, as Lucas stepped closer, then leaned in. Some part of Nathan’s brain knew what was about to happen and still it caught him by surprise, the touch of Lucas’s lips on his, the kiss shy, soft, and perhaps the hottest thing Nathan had ever had the privilege of experiencing. A second passed and the kiss deepened. The tip of Lucas’s tongue touched his lips, Nathan believing the world had crumbled between his feet, leaving him floating on a soft cloud.
He moaned, his body yearning to feel the touch of those lips in other places. Sex with Marsha had been good, but never once during the run of their relationship or any other past coupling had he experienced such a smoldering desire to be with another. To achieve the close contact of skin on skin.
Reluctantly, he let Lucas end the kiss, the photographer pulling back, releasing his hold on Nathan’s hand as well as his lips. He took a step or two back to put a little distance between them, his cheeks fire engine red. Though he looked embarrassed by his actions, the flame in his eyes betrayed his inner desires; he wanted Nathan just as much as Nathan wanted him.
“Um…I…I…you,” he fought for the right words to say, rubbing the back of his neck, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
It wasn’t the right thing to do but Nathan let out a light laugh, breaking the awkwardness of the moment. “It’s okay, Lucas. Actually,” he said, a coy smile tugging up the corners of his mouth, “it was more than okay. Spectacular sounds like a more fitting word.”
Lucas’s eyebrows shot up in an unasked question.
What the hell, Nathan thought, might as well go for broke, wasn’t that what Eleanor had told him to do the other night? Just jump in with both feet, pursue what he wanted. So he let it all tumble out, from the moment he heard Lucas say his name over the phone to their first encounter, and for a heartbeat or two he fretted Lucas might think him some crazy stalker type, but the words needed to be said. And when they finally dried up it was Lucas who chuckled.
“I thought maybe it was just me.”
Hearing those words filled Nathan’s heart with such joy. In that moment he could have grown wings and flown away. “Really?”
Lucas nodded. He looked about ready to say something only to have the sentence die as Birch nosed him in the side. The mare drew his attention and Nathan watched a range of emotions pass over his face. Doubt crept in, born of the hatred Marsha had for the mare, the passion he had for horses, he didn’t want to follow the same path and hope for a different outcome.
When Lucas finally looked at him again, the photographer’s expression was hard to read. “Can…can I show you something? Inside?”
“Sure,” Nathan answered, curiosity getting the best of him.
“Will she be okay out here? I mean, I can go get the rope and—”
Nathan shook his head. “I get the feeling this is right where she wants to be. I’ll explain later,” he added quickly at the questioning look that flashed over Lucas’s features.
They started for the house. Nathan glanced back over his shoulder to check on Birch when he reached the steps of the deck. She was peacefully munching on grass not paying him any attention and looking for all intents and purposes like the lazy horse she tended to be. Eleanor was never going to believe him when he recounted the epic run away. Lucas’s voice drew Nathan back to the matter at hand. He hastily made his way up the steps to join the photographer, following the man through the backdoor into a beautiful kitchen. The tastefully decorated room would have been perfect for a magazine shoot.
White cabinets, dark granite countertops, a dark blond hardwood floor, black appliances, and quaint little knickknacks thrown in to add a bit of charm. Situated perfectly before a bank of windows that allowed for an impressive view of the backyard was a round dining table. Scattered across the top was an open album, loose photos, and a laptop. Lucas led him in that direction.
“I finally got a chance last night to checkout those photos I took of your mare the other day,” he was saying.
“Birch,” Nathan supplied.
“That’s a good name, a beautiful tree,” Lucas commented, then shifted back to his original purpose. “Now, I’ve taken a lot of photos in my day. it’s my profession, after all. The lighting was great that day and she willingly let me get her from all angles.”
“So what’s wrong?” Nathan could feel the unspoken but.
“But…well, look for yourself.”
Lucas picked up a handful of the photos and passed them to Nathan. At first glance they looked like flawless snaps of his mare. She looked the ideal image of good health from her shiny coat to her weight. Then his eyes trailed down, no, they were drawn to her front hooves. Nathan sank down onto one of the chairs, his brain failing to comprehend what he was seeing. Surely there must be some plausible explanation for the swirling clouds of color around her hooves, green and blue with hints of pink thrown in for good measure. The only way his brain could think to describe it was to compare the effect to fairy dust as depicted in various pieces of artwork.
“What…”
Lucas sat beside him, shrugging. “I have no idea. I have spent all morning trying to find a reason for the anomaly, but nothing makes sense. When I took the photo I did not see that, I’m sure I would have remembered. And yet there it is in every picture, part of the picture.”
He shook his head, thinking it must be some sort of trick or something. He set aside the photos to look at a few others featuring his mare and the strange phenomena. Moving one revealed the album and the photo it was open to. Something about it caught Nathan’s eye. The image was of a woman with hair the color of burned copper. The white dress she wore was elegant, almost fairy-like in nature, but neither of those things mattered. What had originally caught his eye was the pendant resting against the porcelain flesh just below her collarbone.
It matched exactly the necklace Eleanor wore.
Nathan tapped it. “What is this?”
“What’s what?”
“This necklace. A friend of mine wears it, has since the day I met her.”
“Oh,” Lucas eyed the image. “That’s a charm, one worn by a couple of pagans.” When he saw the questioning look on Nathan’s face he kept going. “Pagans, it’s a form of religion, they believe in magic, that sort of thing.”
Magic, the word bounced around in his mind. Nathan’s brain went into overdrive. He once asked Eleanor about the pendant and the answer she gave him, though vague, hadn’t exactly skirted the question. She claimed it was religious so he let it go; a person was e
ntitled to their beliefs. And…all the pieces began to fall into place starting with the moment he told her about breaking up with Marsha. The way she fingered her pendant and magically there was a farrier at the barn when he needed one. And again when she spoke of him finding the locksmith with the key to her heart, she touched it then, right as the new shoes were being put on Birch.
The photos.
The strange sparkle to the horseshoes.
The pendant.
His gaze strayed to Lucas.
The locksmith.
Lucas furrowed his brow. “You have the oddest look on your face.”
Could it be possible, could Eleanor have used some sort of magic to enchant the shoes Birch wore to help lead him here to Lucas? It sounded like the sort of thing that only happened in storybooks, childhood fairytales. There was no way…magic did not exist…and yet…
“Nathan, are you okay?” Lucas reached over, placing his hand atop Nathan’s.
“Yeah,” he drew out the word. His gaze fluctuated from Lucas to Birch out back.
The man spoke admirably of horses, even offered to keep her for a few hours and now…As the information filtered through, Nathan could feel his heart start beating faster. He turned his hand over so his fingers could entwine with Lucas’s, then stood, tugging the photographer to his feet. He pulled Lucas close, the space between them barely big enough to fit a straw, and without speaking a single word he claimed Lucas’s lips with his own. As soon as they touched, it was like electricity shot through his body, every fiber of his being singing with pleasure. He wasn’t a fast mover when it came to relationships and he definitely didn’t believe in one night stands, he wanted the real deal. That said, he fought down the urge to take Lucas upstairs for a romp between the sheets.
When the kiss ended they stood in silence, arms around each other—when had that happened?—comfortable in each other’s presence.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Lucas asked.