“You’re right. So let me up, dammit.”
I removed my hold on his head, allowing him to sit up slowly. I tried to help, pushing his shoulders gently, but he gave me a glower, and his silence was all I needed to back off.
For a minute or two, we sat surrounded by crushed grass, Forrest snorting and pacing as if feeding off his owner’s agony, and the birds chattering away uncaring.
Jacob stayed slouched like a broken puppet, his hands massaging his lower vertebrae.
“D-do you want me to do that?” I shuffled closer.
“No chance.” He didn’t bother looking over his shoulder, continuing to unkink muscles and hopefully do the correct thing and not mess himself up even more.
Finally, he stretched slowly, arching his neck left and right, wincing and hissing between his teeth before planting his hands on the ground and hoisting himself awkwardly up.
“Wait!” I shot to my feet, dashing in front of him. “Honestly, you should stay where you are. Do you have a phone on you? Let me call your mom or aunt or even a damn ambulance. You should be checked out.”
His face blackened. “You’re not calling an ambulance.”
“Your mom then.”
“Her either.”
“But you need help.”
He smirked wryly. “That’s why you’re here.”
“But I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Just do what I tell you, and everything will be fine.”
I clamped hands on my hips. “Look, you flew off a speed demon and crashed at warp velocity into the ground. You probably have a concussion, not to mention a tweaked back. Even if you can walk now, I’ve heard that—”
“Hope.” Jacob held up his hand, stumbling a little to the side. “Just…quit it. Okay? I’m alive. That’s all that matters.”
“But your mom—”
“Would lose her ever loving mind if she knew I’d been hurt.”
“I agree. So you shouldn’t have been so reckless.”
He groaned. “God, don’t you start. You’ve been hanging around her too much.”
“She’s right, though. You shouldn’t be jumping without tack. It’s stupid.”
“Wrong.” He leaned toward me. “It’s the only thing I have where I’m free.”
I froze.
I’d said something similar to him years ago. And what was worse, I understood exactly what he meant. I didn’t like it, but I nodded and backed down. “Okay. We’ll do this your way.”
“Gee, thanks.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Just because you’re hurt doesn’t mean you get to be nasty. I’m willing to do what you want, so the least you can do is be grateful.”
For a second, we glared at each other. I was close to apologising and admitting that seeing him in pain wasn’t good for my sanity and I’d do whatever he wanted, but slowly, he nodded.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He gave a lopsided smile. “I keep having to apologise to you. It’s becoming a habit.”
“Perhaps be nicer in the first place, and then you wouldn’t have to.”
“That would probably fix the problem.” He took a hesitant step forward. He wobbled, hissed between his teeth, almost fell.
I didn’t think.
Just acted.
Rushing to his side, I ducked under his arm and became the crutch he needed but would never ask for.
He stiffened as my arm looped around his considerable bulk, my fingers locking on his hipbone.
For a second, we didn’t move. I expected him to push me away. To remove all traces of me touching him. To demand I get as far back as possible. However, it was a testament to his injury because he merely cleared his throat and gingerly put his arm over my shoulders.
I did my best to hide the kick my heart made. The leap of happiness that he’d accepted my help. The tingle of connection after wanting to touch him for so long.
Did this classify as a hug?
Not really.
But it was contact, and that was all that mattered.
“This means nothing and is never to be discussed again, got it?” He growled under his breath.
“I understand.”
“Good.” He tripped forward, dragging me with him and putting a little, but not a lot, of his weight on me.
I didn’t tell him to lean on me more. I didn’t want to give him any reason to stop accepting my help. A tiny bit was better than nothing.
Slowly, ever so slowly, we inched across the paddock toward his cabin.
Jacob whistled, halting Forrest’s manic pacing, bringing the stressed-out gelding into a calm plod behind us.
“You’re kind of a horse whisperer, you know?” I said quietly, moving with him when he moved, and pausing with him when he caught his breath.
“Nah. It’s just about building that bond.”
“You have a bond with every horse here.”
“It might seem that way but no. I just listen, that’s all. I listen, and the horse then trusts it can speak to me, and I won’t ignore it.”
“That’s kind of the definition of a horse whisperer.”
He stumbled, flinching with a wash of heat so warm it seeped into me, making me sweat. “Are you trying to be annoying or just distract me?”
“A bit of both.” I smiled shyly. “Is it working?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On if you’re more interested in being annoying or distracting.” He gave me a wry smile I was beginning to recognise as his version of armour against connection. He used quips and sarcasm to deflect deeper subjects and prevent anyone from getting too close.
“If I wanted to be annoying, I’d say you should really call your mother.”
“And I’d say you’re an idiot if you think I’m going to tell her about this.”
“Wait, what?” I pulled to a stop, making him twist in ways he probably shouldn’t.
“Goddammit, Hope.” He rubbed his lower back.
“You have to tell her. There’s no way you can hide the fact you can barely walk.”
“I’ve hidden worse.” He bashed his temple with his palm as if attempting to clear the fuzz from his mind.
“You have?”
He lumbered back into walking. “This isn’t the first time I’ve fallen off.”
“But why do you keep it from her?”
He rolled his eyes as if I was the stupidest person alive. “I’ll spell it out for you, shall I?”
The way he caught my gaze warned I wouldn’t like his explanation. “It’s okay. You don’t have—”
“My father passed out in that meadow the day I was born.”
Goosebumps shot down my arms. “The one you fell in?”
He nodded, jaw tight and eyes strained. “Mom called an ambulance all while in labour with me. She didn’t stop taking care of him until he woke in the ER and gave her the very bed he’d been lying in.”
“Wow.”
“It was a long time ago, but I see her looking at that meadow now and again, and I know she remembers. How could she not? It was the beginning of the end, really. Dad lasted far longer than anyone predicted, but eventually, he still died. She still lost him, and I made a promise never to cause her the same pain.” Jacob’s hair fell over his forehead as he struggled to walk faster. “So you see? She must never know because I’ve already disappointed my dad by hurting myself. I can’t hurt her too.”
I stayed quiet as we began the gentle slope up to his cabin. Forrest came with us, his soft breath puffing close to my ear.
“That might seem noble in your mind, but it’s not. She’ll find out. Eventually. And then be furious you kept it from her.”
Jacob was quiet, his breathing laboured and sweat rolling from his hairline as we finally reached the decking around his cabin.
I hadn’t come up here. I hadn’t been invited or permitted. But now, he clutched me closer, placing more weight than he had before as he attempted to climb the first step of three.
Nuzzling into hi
m, I braced myself so he had something firm and strong and not weak and wobbly.
When he’d climbed the decking steps and released a haggard groan, he shook his head and dragged me toward the sliding glass doors to his home. “Once again, you have it wrong.”
“Believe me, in this, I know I’m right.”
Letting me go, he braced himself on the glass.
I missed his heat, even if he was burning up with pain. Looking over his shoulder, he spoke calmly to the gelding. “You’re free, Forrest. Hope will take you home in a bit.”
The horse nickered and promptly ambled off to eat grass. Luckily, the massive veggie garden, just to the left of Jacob’s deck was fenced off because the carrot tops looked mighty tempting.
I shook my head in awe. Either the horse spoke English or Jacob had some magical powers I desperately wanted to learn. Every horse I’d ridden had tolerated me, but none of them loved me like Forrest loved Jacob.
Pushing open the slider, Jacob hobbled inside.
I stayed where I was, unsure if I was supposed to follow or go.
He turned slowly, resting his hand on a wooden table that looked as if it’d been carted from the forest, given legs, and left in all its natural glory. “You’re wrong, and I’ll tell you why. My mother loves me almost as much as she loved my father.”
“What?” I crossed the threshold, stepping into Jacob’s private world. “Don’t be absurd. She loves you just as much.”
“Stop interrupting.” He glowered. “She loves me almost as much, but it’s still enough to break her if I died too. Just a simple cut and she loses it. I made a promise to a ghost that I would do everything necessary to protect and look after her, and this is me keeping that promise.”
Pointing at the kitchen which was drenched in sun thanks to the skylight directly over the large black sink, he added, “Get me some painkillers. They’re in the pantry. If you feel inclined, make us some lunch. I’m hungry. And then, you and me are going to sit here quietly while my body mends.”
“Ever heard of please?”
“Not really.”
“Well, you should learn.”
“And you should learn to mind your own business.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but he smirked. “You’re my excuse if Mom comes asking why I haven’t finished raking the west paddock. I’m finally being a good host and hanging out with you.”
“I don’t know about this.” I tiptoed toward the kitchen, feeling as if I trespassed on his privacy just by breathing in his home. Heading into the walk-in pantry, I scanned the neat shelves of tins, packets, and sauces before finding a tower of anti-inflammatories and pain relievers.
Grabbing a box, I moved back to him. “Use these a lot, do you? Got a pretty decent stash.”
He waited for me to pop two from the blister packet before cocking his head. “Come on, Hope. Two won’t cut it. Four, please.”
“Four?”
He nodded as if I was a simpleton.
“You can’t have four.”
“I can. I do. Now gimme. I even said please.”
Reluctantly, I popped another two into his palm. He didn’t even wait for me to get a glass of water before he swallowed them dry with a flick of his head.
“Experienced in self-administering pain relief, huh? I’m beginning to think your mother is right when she calls you reckless.” I tutted like a frustrated nurse. “Then again, she probably knows more than you give her credit for.”
Jacob grinned, hobbling toward the comfy-looking tanned couch and sitting down carefully. It took a while for his spine to roll and go from standing to resting. Once he was in position and breathing hard from fresh agony, he patted the couch beside him. “None of your business or concern. All you need to worry about is being a convincing liar.”
“I’m not lying to your mother.” I sniffed, sitting primly.
“Acting then. You know how to do that.” He slipped deeper into the furniture, his skin whiter than I’d seen. “Either way, Hope, what happened today is our little secret. Got it?” He pinned me with a livid stare, delivered with dark gaze and darker promise.
Slowly, I reclined, keeping his stare and committing myself to this crime. “Okay, Jacob. Our little secret.”
I didn’t bother telling him that I was a terrible actress.
He sighed as if he’d needed my agreement more than he let on. His eyes fluttered closed, and on the softest breath, he murmured, “Thanks.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jacob
* * * * * *
“KNOCK, KNOCK. JACOB?”
I rolled my eyes, giving Hope an exasperated look. “It’s open, Mom. You don’t need to say ‘knock, knock.’ Just come in.”
Mom stepped hesitantly through the open glass doors into my simple but cosy living room. She eyed me suspiciously.
I’d deliberately sprawled on the couch—even though it hurt my lower back—and her sharp gaze took in the remnants of cheese toasties and curly fries that Hope had made for lunch on the coffee table.
“What’s going on?” Her eyes danced from me to Hope sitting lotus-style next to me, her eyebrows rising. “I noticed the west paddock hasn’t been raked.” Her face didn’t know if it wanted to settle into annoyed or worried. “Any reason why?”
I didn’t like the way she studied me, but I didn’t have the mobility to move and hide. My head pounded like a bastard, my vision flickered sometimes, and my lower back was hot and achy. Pins and needles occasionally shot through my hands, making me very aware I might’ve tweaked a nerve or two in my spine.
“Decided to take the day off.” I motioned to Hope with my chin while grabbing the TV remote and making a big display of pausing the movie. A movie Hope had chosen on Netflix, but something I hadn’t been paying attention to.
My thoughts had been on my fall. Reliving the rush of galloping Forrest as fast as he could over the tree trunk. Cringing under the memory of tumbling over his head as the horse cartwheeled one way and I went the other.
I didn’t feel the ground; everything was just black.
I hadn’t seen it coming, and I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.
If Hope hadn’t been there…well, I might still be in agony in the very same meadow where Dad almost died.
Rather convenient she’d set up a picnic spot not far from where I’d almost killed myself. I’d eyed her when she told me where she’d been—not quite believing her. Especially seeing as she had a habit of eavesdropping and following me around when she thought I didn’t notice.
After lunch, I’d made Hope inspect Forrest from nose to tail to ensure he didn’t have any swelling or cuts from our shared accident.
She’d touched him gingerly while I sat on the bench on the deck. She wasn’t afraid of him per se, just very aware that he was a moody bugger and could cause her injury in a single second.
Luckily, it was just me with the wounds, and Forrest returned to eating grass around my home, mowing a haphazard path as he followed his nose to sweeter shoots.
“It was my fault, Della.” Hope smiled innocently. “After our ride together, I saw Jacob heading to work. I asked him to give me a tour.”
“A tour?” Mom frowned, not believing that I’d suddenly become an amiable guide.
“Mm-hm.” Hope nodded, biting her lower lip before adding in a rush, “He didn’t want to, of course. But I…”
Her green gaze caught mine, full of conspiracies to keep my secret hidden. For an actress, she wasn’t very good at telling a convincing story.
Inhaling quick, she finished, “I didn’t take no for an answer. He kindly showed me around, then I offered to make lunch and chill for a bit.”
“Right.” Mom crossed her arms. “Say I believe this highly unlikely tale, what exactly is Forrest doing out of his paddock and eating our soon-to-be cut baleage?”
I cleared my throat, smirking. “He’s allowed a day off too, Mom. Don’t you think?”
“Humph.” She tapped her foot, looking
me up and down. “What’s really going on? Are you hurt again? What did you do this time?”
My heart picked up. I never knew how she did that, but she always seemed to know if I was injured. Gritting my teeth, I pushed upward, forcing my body through its aches and bruises to stand.
The world went black for a second while I waited for blood flow to restore my vision. When I could see again, I spread my arms, TV remote still in hand. “Not hurt. See?”
Mom came closer, only for Hope to shoot up and intercept her. “Do you want help with dinner? It’s late, and I’m getting hungry again. I’ll walk back with you to the house if you want?”
Mom’s stern worry for me melted in soft affection for Hope. “Sure, that would be lovely. Be nice to have some company.” Her eyes flashed to mine, making sure I got her message—that I hadn’t been around much this week, and I’d let her down. “You’ll come too, right, Wild One?”
I shrugged. “Nah, think I’ll crash actually. Big day tomorrow. Early start and all. You know how it is.”
Mom couldn’t hide her flinch. “Oh, okay. Fair enough.”
Hope once again smashed through the tension by looping her arm through my mother’s lax one. “Great. Girls’ night. I really fancied watching a chick flick, but Jacob wouldn’t let me. I’d be happy to watch them all with you, Della.” She smiled, her acting much better. In fact, a little too good as a glisten of tears shone before she blinked them away. “It would mean a lot to me.”
Mom’s heart didn’t stand a chance against a broken girl asking to spend time with her. A girl who didn’t have a mother and was effectively reaching out to mine in a way she hadn’t done before.
I didn’t know if it was part of the pantomime, or if Hope truly did enjoy hanging out with her. Either way, it worked because Mom patted Hope’s hand and gave me a weary look. “Okay, Jacob. Guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Definitely.” I tapped my temple, moving from the couch to be a gentleman and walk them out but unable to hide the hiss of pain as another prickle of pins and needles shot up my spine, over my shoulder, and down my arm.
Mom froze.
Hope gasped.
I stayed exactly where I was, drowning in pain.
Once again, Hope came to my rescue. “Congratulations, Jacob. You finally get your house back.”
The Son & His Hope Page 18