by Gorman, A.
“Okay. I don’t have to like it, but I do love you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I have a problem that I hope you can help me out with, though.”
“What is it?”
“I need help finding a horse that got out of the training arena.”
My body stills, and panic rises in my throat. I don’t want to get on a horse.
“I, umm…” My palms sweat.
“You can take the Gator out.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, calming my frantically beating heart. I wipe my palms on my jeans and get up from my chair.
“The guys are ready, I think you might be able to cover more ground with the Gator, and I checked the gas, so it’s ready to go.”
“Thanks.” I walk out of the office behind my dad. The Gator is out by the stable. This isn’t how I planned to spend my afternoon, and I hope we find the horse before it gets too late.
Darkness falls, and the horse still hasn’t been located. I text Rory to let him know what was going on, and he and his sister came over to help us. This search isn’t going like I thought it would. I was hoping we’d be finished and I’d be home with Rory, but I was wrong.
I don’t know how much gas the Gator has left, because the gas gauge is broken. I should have gone back the stable before it got dark. I can have someone bring me gas if I run out since I have my phone.
The last hundred acres has a river running along the edge, and I hope this is where the horse is located. I shine the light along the bank, nothing so far. I go down the bank further and shine the light again. Nothing. I give the Gator gas, and it dies. I try to restart it, and it cranks over but doesn’t start. I pick up my phone and call Rory for help.
“I’m behind you,” he says from a few horse lengths back.
“The Gator is out of gas.”
“It’s late. I think it would better if you would ride back and we get out tomorrow.”
My body tenses at his suggestion. I can’t. “I’ll wait for gas.”
“Darlin’…I know you don’t want to, but you need to. You can ride with me…”
“I can’t.” He gets off his horse and sits beside me.
“Hayden, I know the accident has you spooked. I can understand that, but you need to try and get back on a horse. I can see it physically pains you not to ride. I can see it every time you’re around a horse.”
“I don’t want another horse hurt because of me.”
“The accident wasn’t your fault.”
“It was. If I wouldn’t have run him so hard, he would still be able to race.”
“You don’t know that for sure. You can’t blame yourself, because that isn’t fair to you.”
My insides tremble with fear. I can’t do it.
“Hayden, look at me.” Rory places his fingers under my chin, lifting my view up to his eyes. The glow of the moonlight lights his face. “I’ll hold you tight and make sure nothing happens.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can try my damnedest.”
“I’m not ready.”
“Darlin’, I know you might not be, but I’m here. I’ll protect you as much as I can. It’s getting late, and I would like to get you home. Please, trust me.”
My chest heaves as I try to breathe. I suck in a deep breath in effort to get oxygen to my lungs. I can do this. I can do this. I keep repeating in my head. Rory is here, and he will keep my safe…I can do this.
I nod at Rory, letting him know that I trust him…trust him to keep me safe, and I get out of the Gator. My hands shake as my body begs me to gain control of my breathing. Rory gets on his horse and holds out a hand to help me get up in front of him. I close my eyes, step up, and sit down. I try not to wiggle too much because my butt is right on his crotch.
Calmness takes over my body, and my mind is at peace. Rory wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me back into him. I let my body melt into his as he controls the horse and begins the journey back to the stables.
The moon is high in sky when we arrive. The missing horse hasn’t been located, and the search will resume tomorrow at daylight. My nerves are shot from riding, but I’m at peace with it. I’ve missed riding so much, but I didn’t realize how much. Everyone was right…I really needed to get back on a horse, but I’m not ready to race one. I might not ever be ready to do that.
As the night fades into morning, I lie awake in Rory’s bed. I need to get to my parents’ to resume the search for the horse, but I don’t want to get out of bed. I want to spend the day doing nothing. My body is sore from riding. Soreness I had missed. My thighs are tender from the pressure the pommel put on them during the ride home.
“Morning, darlin’. How you feeling?” Rory says as he pulls me into him, his hard cock poking me in the back.
“Sore and tired.”
“I’m sorry. Do I need to rub anywhere?”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay. I need to head back to my parents’.”
“Want me to come with you?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Are you going to ride…?”
“No, Mable has a sore hoof. I’m not going to ride someone else’s horse. I don’t know if I want to ride alone.”
“Okay…just don’t give up on yourself.”
“I know.” I turn over and kiss him on the lips.
“I think I know a way to stretch your body out so you’re not so sore.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” He smirks and kisses me hard.
His kisses consume my thoughts, and I fall deep into his spell. I hear the crinkle of the condom wrapper. I know exactly what his plan is, and I let him take me. As he claims me, I fall for him even more, and I know that I want him to be my forever…
Chapter Six
Rory
A few days later, the crazy horse appeared, nothing wrong with him, just thirsty. I guess he had to get out and experience life beyond the stable. Too bad we all spent two days looking for him, and I had to change up my plans for Hayden.
That Friday, I had planned to use Storm in my proposal for her hand. I know we haven’t been back together long. Hell, we haven’t officially been anything, but I don’t care. Plus, her dad gave me his blessing…only after the “you better make an honest girl out of my daughter” speech.
So I’ll try again this afternoon.
Everything is set up, our families will be here, and Storm’s training has been going perfectly. If Hayden doesn’t want to race him, she doesn’t have to. He loves to ride at any pace.
I made a small sign for his neck that reads ‘Marry Me.’ The one-carat diamond princess cut ring has been in my pocket for a few weeks. I bought it after our first weekend together. I knew Hayden was it. She’s the one that I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with. That’s why I didn’t rush her, but I know she realizes it now too, especially in the past few weeks.
She glows when she sees me or comes home…our home. I hope it will be after tonight. Hayden was the missing piece of my life, and now she’s back in it, I’m complete again. I’m happy…so happy, and I hope I can make her happy for the rest of our lives.
My phone dings with a new text as I replay what I want to say in my mind.
Hayden: I’m on my way over. See you in 20. LU.
Me. I’m in the arena. LU2.
I send out a group text to everyone to let them know she’s on her way, so they can get here too. They’ve all worked out how to get here and where to go so Hayden doesn’t get too suspicious.
Our family begins to filter in and hide behind the seating where Hayden shouldn’t be able to see them until they want to be seen. Our parents arrive, and my dad gives me a thumbs up. Nerves flutter in my stomach. I know I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am.
A few minutes later, Hayden walks in the door, looking around.
“Did I see my parents’ truck out there?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I smirk.
> “What’s going on? You still have Storm?” She walks over and moves the sign around on his neck. “Marry Me?” Her eyes go big, and she looks at me.
Here goes nothing, and I get down on one knee. “Hayden Elaine Bergman, I’ve loved you since I found out what love is. My life isn’t complete unless you are in it. I love you, and you are my everything, my forever. Will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?” I place the ring before her.
Her hands go to her lips as tears fall down her face. She nods yes. “Yes, Rory, yes,” she yells out. I place the diamond ring on her finger, stand up, and hug her tight.
Our families hoot and holler from the stands and walk into the arena.
“Congratulations,” echoes through the stable, and hugs are swapped between both families…This is the happiest day of my life.
Hayden and I got married a year later, and I thought time would slow down and we’d be able to enjoy each other more. I was wrong, so wrong. Time went by even faster. Hayden and Storm became an inseparable team. They worked hard for months, and Hayden got the courage up to race again. They only competed in one race. She wanted to get over her fear of being hurt when competing. They finished second in the event, and I couldn’t be prouder of her.
Not too bad for being out of the circuit for almost two years. Barney is still around, he doesn’t move as fast as he used to, but he fully recovered and is living a comfortable life with us. His recovery helped Hayden heal too.
We moved the training business to our ranch, and my parents sold me a few hundred acres from their ranch, so we could have whatever we wanted with our business, including adding livestock. Soon after Hayden retired from racing, she became pregnant, and we welcomed twins into our family.
They are now five, Raylee and Rylann, and they want to be exactly like their mom when they grow up. The girls watched Hayden ride and train horses to race. They know how to handle horses, but I won’t tell Hayden how nervous it makes me seeing them on a horse—I can’t. It would go against everything I said to her as she overcame her fear of riding again.
Eight years ago, if someone had told me I would be married to Hayden with two beautiful daughters, I would have laughed in their face. I thought she hated me, but we needed time apart to grow back together. I’m thankful for second chances, and I’m glad Hayden gave me one.
About the Author
A. Gorman was born and raised in a small community in Central Indiana. She left the slow-moving life of the country for the fast-paced city life. After spending twelve years in the city and becoming a mother to two wild and crazy kids, she chose to move back to the peace and quiet of the country after following her love to his hometown.
As an avid reader, A. never set out to be an author. However, after editing for a client one day, a voice started talking to her and talking and talking. She decided to sit down and write what she had to say, and it turned out she had a lot to say. That one voice turned to two, and another story came to life. Now she’s the proud author of the Their Sins series, Love, With All My Heart, Unwanted Fate, and four short stories with several more series and standalones planned.
When she’s not out in the garden, you can find her at her desk writing her next novel with a cup of coffee and classical music cranked up in her headphones. While she loves reading, A. is addicted to all things British, coffee, and gummy bears—in no particular order.
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/AGormanAuthor
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/AuthorAGorman
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8185027.
A. Gorman Website:
http://authoragorman.com
All Along
By Camille Taylor
Chapter 1
“I think I killed him.”
Jarrod Bowman blinked. He stood with his best friend, Abby Kildare, at the front door, darkness enveloping her, her unfocused eyes and serious expression highlighted in the soft glow coming from inside his house behind him. His heart damn near stopped as he noticed the cut on her forehead, intersecting her eyebrow. The blood staining her waitressing shirt had dread twisting knots in his belly.
Her toneless voice chilled him, as did the vacant gaze. He pulled her to him and cursed silently as his grip found icy skin, despite the dry heat of the night. She came willing, though he doubted she was aware of anything at the moment, her body trembling against him.
“What’s happened?” He forced the words out of his suddenly dry mouth.
“He’s dead. He’s dead.” Silent tears escaped. “I killed him.”
To him, it didn’t take a genius to figure out who “he” was. Abby constantly fought with her emotionally abusive stepfather, a man she’d lived with since she’d been seven.
“Slow down, Abs. Tell me what happened.”
While she rambled a bunch of nonsensical words, he scrutinized her body, searching for tell-tale signs the blood covering her was her own. None could be found. A small ball of relief unfurled in his belly.
Her head fell against his chest, and her body shook, her knees collapsing so his arm around her waist was the only thing keeping her upright.
Shit! What the hell was he to do? If something had happened to old Hank that night, he couldn’t say he’d be torn up about it. The man was a class A prick. While he questioned Abby’s declaration, too in shock to make sense, the blood was very much real, the copper scent curdling his stomach.
She repeated her confession over and over, filling the once-quiet house with a cold, emotionless drone.
Outside, the twinkling lights decorating the back patio taunted him with their brightness in such a dark time.
“I killed him.” Her voice died off. A hand had fisted in his shirt, twisting the fabric in distress. The trembling kicked up a notch, the heavy shudders terrifying him.
After picking up his landline with his free hand, he dialed the main line for the local police and relayed the bare minimum facts to Harley Lowe, the small station’s only officer. If there was a chance the old coot was still breathing, he was honor bound to help—if only to keep Abby’s conscience clean.
With a promise to keep Abby with him until Harley could investigate, he hung up.
His gaze dropped to Abby’s head. He picked up the fruity apple and cinnamon shampoo she used and the stronger scent of fatty oils and coffee from her job at the roadhouse by the highway.
Now what was he going to do? This situation was well out of his depth. He was a farmer, not a counselor or cop. But Abby had no one else. Probably why in her shock, she’d automatically come to him. She’d been damn lucky not to twist an ankle in a rabbit hole or fall into the dam on her way from Hank’s neighboring house to his property.
Rubbing his hand up and down her arm, a protective surge raced through him. Whatever had happened tonight, he wasn’t going to abandon Abby.
His shirt where she laid her head was damp from tears. A sharp pain pierced his heart. Abby never cried. And she’d had plenty of reasons to in the past. Her mother’s death, being made to stay with Hank, Hank’s continual verbal beat down. But not his Abby. She’d always had a stiff back and her head held high.
“It’s going to be all right, Abs.”
He didn’t expect an answer so wasn’t surprised when there was no acknowledgement to his words. He needed to get her clean, so any further injuries could present themselves. Relieved at having a plan for the woman in his arms, he shuffled her to the bathroom and turned on the shower.
As steam filled the small glass cubicle and spilled out into the 1930s bathroom, he ran his stiff fingers through his hair. Now what? He hadn’t thought this through, not thinking what he’d do if she failed to cooperate.
Shit.
Turning to Abby, he mentally put on his big boy boots and began undressing her, thankful she was still in shock. Despite knowing her since kindergarten, it still felt like he was crossing a boundary.
After heeling his boots off, h
e stepped in behind her, keeping his gaze firmly on the tiled wall. His shirt and the hem of his jeans were saturated within seconds as he held her upright, her back to his chest. Blowing out a deep breath, he began running the soapy washcloth over her body as impersonally as he would tend to one of his animals.
They’d skinny dipped before, so this wasn’t the first time she’d been naked around him, though they had been ten then, but this time he was conscious of the dips, curves, and rises.
Swallowing hard, he tilted her head toward the spray and gently cleaned her cut, washing away the dried blood from her forehead and chest where it had seeped through her shirt and onto her skin.
He spoke in soft tones, verbalizing his actions so as not to frighten her, though he wasn’t sure how much of the situation she might be taking in. Still, hopefully his voice would snap her out of her daze.
Inadvertently, his fingertip brushed a turgid nipple, and his body tightened. He cursed his unrepentant body and briefly closed his eyes. He—they—didn’t need this right now. Abby needed him. His untimely libido could go take a flying leap. He shifted his mind from recalling how the nipple had stiffened further as though readying itself for his mouth and focused on their situation, the blood which drenched Abby’s shirt.
What the hell had happened? Where had all the blood come from? His stomach clenched, knowing it wasn’t hers. Which only left one answer. One he didn’t want to contemplate.
When the water ran clear, he lifted Abby out and toweled her dry before grabbing the nearest shirt he could find and pulling her arms through, the hem reaching mid-thigh. Scooping her up, he carried her into the kitchen and placed her in a wooden chair.
He shivered, despite the warm air circulating the house, the soaked shirt now cool against his chest.