by R. S. Kovach
Hank glanced back at Ali and shrugged. “I guess I have to go with them, then.”
The boy continued to quote regulations. “Only two riders per seat,” he said, rolling his eyes.
Sensing a problem, the kids panicked. “I want to go on it,” Colin said, pouting, while Sarah appeared to be on the verge of tears.
Ali took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Fine. Let’s do this.” Taking Sarah’s hand, she walked to the open pod. As soon as they were latched into the seat and the wheel began to turn, she already wanted to get off.
Even though it was just a few feet off the ground, the metal pod swung forward and backward with every move or strong gust of wind. Ali tried to distract herself with something more pleasant instead of focusing on the bubbling nausea forming in the pit of her stomach.
Colin and his uncle were climbing into the next pod directly behind them, and Ali had to turn to get a glimpse of the man she should have been chatting with safely back on the ground. She didn’t regret coming along—Sarah’s huge smile in the spot next to her made up for the anxiety—but she would have still preferred to spend a little alone time with Hank.
The day had been fun, and perhaps—if they had a chance to get to know each other better—he would bend or even break his rumored resistance to getting cozier with a Pebble Creek client. Even if it was for just a few weeks, she would jump at the chance to . . . well, to jump that cowboy.
Ali held back a smile as her cheeks flushed at the thought, but the wheel suddenly jerked and the pod started rising steadily.
“Yay!” Sarah cheered next to her, but Ali kept her gaze ahead and her breathing even. Looking down would definitely make her lose it, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the sun’s last rays in the swiftly approaching dusk when they reached the top.
“How are you doing up there?” Hank’s question was full of amusement, and as they started the slow descent, she couldn’t resist taking a peek. Gripping the thin metal bars standing between her and the dark ground a hundred feet below, Ali opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t. She glanced up at Hank.
He was turned in his seat, staring down at her, but his bright smile wasn’t enough to keep her from feeling as though she’d crash to the ground at any moment. The floor beneath her feet threatened to drop out, and Ali could already feel her body tumbling uncontrollably through the air.
Shutting her eyes again, she willed herself to stop shaking. “I’ve been better.”
Hank laughed, the pleasant sound full of sympathy rather than malice. “Only one more turn to go.”
“Alejandra! Alejandra Barros, is that you?” a woman’s voice called out to her from below.
Forgetting her prior worries, Ali looked down to search for the source. It didn’t take long because as the pod lowered toward the ground, she saw a young woman with long blond hair standing at the ride’s short fence and waving in her direction.
“Who’s that?” Sarah asked.
“I’m not sure,” Ali quietly admitted.
“Hey, Alejandra!” she called out again. “I knew it was you.”
Ali struggled to place the familiar face illuminated by the colorful lights. “Hey! How are you?” She hoped her lack of recognition didn’t show.
“What are you doing in Colorado? Are you down here training for nationals?” The familiar woman pressed on, and Ali’s heart sank.
That was it. She’d met her at a competition. What was her name again? Kelly? Cate? No. She still didn’t remember. “Um, no.” Ali lifted her arm, drawing attention to the cast and hoping the woman would stop revealing things she wanted to keep private. “Just vacation.”
“Oh, bummer. Does that mean you’re out this year?” The blonde frowned as Ali’s pod spun past her and started rising again. Just when she thought she was safe, not-Kelly-or-Cate called out again. “That’s too bad, but maybe the rest of us will have a shot at that show-jumping crown now that your spot is available!”
Ali kept a poker face and just nodded, but all she wanted to do was slink down into her seat and become invisible. Hank had undoubtedly heard every word, and her secret was now out. It wouldn’t even have been so bad had she not lied to him earlier, but she’d feigned a lifelong aversion to horses when she was, in fact, a champion horsewoman. Explaining that to him now would be worse than having to come clean in the first place.
On the other hand, Sarah was relishing the new—if completely misunderstood—topic. “Do you like jumping?” she chirped. “I got a rainbow-colored jump rope for my birthday and Mommy has been teaching me all kinds of tricks with it.”
She gave the girl a halfhearted acknowledgment, but as the pod made its way to the top again for the final time, Ali had more on her mind than childish playthings. She expected Hank to confront her, but when he finally turned his head, he just silently stared. It was worse than any question or accusation as his eyes quietly searched hers for an explanation. She remained speechless until Sarah once again grew impatient and began rocking the pod.
“I’m bored. Can we get off now?” the little girl singsonged, tilting the seat forward and backward.
“Oh, sweetie, please don’t do that,” Ali begged, gripping the metal edge.
Sarah was undeterred. “But it’s fun.”
“Sarah. Please be nice,” Hank instructed from below. “You shouldn’t make Ali more upset than she already is.”
Appreciating his assistance, but keenly aware of the meaning behind his words, Ali felt worse than ever. He may now have known her weakness, but not her reasoning behind it. Revealing that would make her even more vulnerable, and she wasn’t sure if going down that road was what she really needed. When they were finally on the ground, Ali quietly hung just a step behind the entire way back to the truck.
Darkness enveloped them as night finally set in, and within minutes of starting the drive back to Pebble Creek, both kids were fast asleep. Hank broke the silence. “Why did you lie?”
The question was inevitable, and while she wasn’t happy about it, Ali was ready with an answer. “I couldn’t get on that horse,” she whispered, her voice quivering as she recalled the day of the storm.
“I realize that, but you could have told me the truth.” A muscle in his jaw twitched as an approaching car’s headlights reflected off his face.
“Why?” She squirmed in her seat. “You were a total stranger.”
Momentarily taking his eyes off the road, he glanced at her with a furrowed brow. “Do you usually lie to strangers?”
“No, but you would’ve made me get on.” She looked out the window and wrung her hands.
“Why do you think that?” His tone now was much more gentle.
Ali cleared her throat, holding back tears. “Because I don’t have a good reason for being deathly afraid of getting on a horse.”
He considered this for a few seconds before continuing. “I don’t know what happened to you, but anxiety is real. PTSD is real.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have PTSD.”
“How do you know if you won’t even consider it a possibility?” He looked at her again.
Ali scoffed. “Because you don’t get PTSD for being stupid.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “But I know you can be in denial by blaming yourself instead of acknowledging the underlying problem.”
“What are you? A psychiatrist?” She crossed her arms, leaning against the door.
Hank smiled unexpectedly. “No, but I’ve been to enough of them to know the drill.”
The revelation caught her off guard, and Ali spent the rest of the trip trying to come up with an appropriate rebuttal. Her internal conflict over whether to reveal more about herself or pry Hank for the source of his expertise ended in a stalemate, leaving the conversation hanging even as he pulled the truck into the lodge’s drivew
ay. Skidding to a stop on the gravel and sending up small particles of dirt to mingle in front of the headlights, he shut off the vehicle and plunged them into darkness.
Sarah remained fast asleep when Hank gently picked her up, her head drooping over his shoulder. He carried the small girl in his arms up the steps as Colin ran ahead, with Ali taking up the rear. They parted ways without another word as Hank took the kids toward the interior of the building while she stopped at reception to sign in.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s finally back.” Sheridan’s usually pleasant cadence—now annoying as hell—rang out from the sitting area. Walking toward Ali while glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the departing Hank and kids, she smirked. “Have fun at the country fair, did we?”
Not missing the obvious attempt at a dig, Ali gripped the pen as she initialed the “IN” box next to the original entry Liz had recorded for her earlier. She could have come up with any number of scathing rebuttals but didn’t deem the other woman worthy of any of them. Instead, she ignored the remark and retreated to her own suite.
Once inside, she kicked off her shoes and threw her hat on a side table before stretching out on the comfy sofa in the sitting area. Closing her eyes, Ali felt nothing but shame for the person she had become. She was a coward and a liar who’d been unceremoniously revealed as both. She could have fallen asleep right then and there, but when a light knock sounded on the door, she sighed and reluctantly went to answer it. Opening it a crack, she found Hank standing on the other side with his hands in his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet.
“Is something wrong?” She looked past him, but the rest of the hallway was empty.
He pushed his hat over his forehead. “You said you had my shirt.”
“Oh. Right.” He really did want that damn shirt back. Motioning for him to hold on, she ran into the bedroom and grabbed the folded garment from the top of the dresser. Returning to the door, she handed it over. “Thanks again.”
He reached out and caught her hand along with the fabric. “Would you like to go out with me?”
Blinking to make sure she wasn’t imagining things and Hank really was standing there holding her hand while asking her out, Ali said the first thing that came to mind. “Why?”
“Why?” he repeated. “Well, I’ve never been asked to justify a request for a date—”
“No, no, no. Stop. That was extremely rude of me.” She shook her head and pulled her hand out of his. Rubbing her forehead, she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to compose herself before looking up again. “Um, what did you have in mind?”
The corners of his lips slowly turned upward. “Dinner seems like a good way to start. I was thinking tomorrow night around seven? I can pick you up—”
“No!” she exclaimed, before clarifying. “I mean yes to dinner, but I’ll meet you there.” The last thing she needed was to add to Sheridan’s arsenal of gossip.
“Are you sure?” He leaned against the door frame. “The place I had in mind is all the way up in Denver, but I promise it’s worth it.”
Ali smiled. “It’s not a problem.”
“All right, then. It’s the Brown Palace Hotel; everyone knows where it is, but you should probably tell your driver to avoid Broadway and take Eighteenth Avenue instead.” Hank was explaining more than necessary, and if she didn’t know better, Ali would have thought he was trying to linger.
Not minding, but also without a reason to keep him around, she cleared her throat. “So, I’ll meet you at the restaurant at seven?”
He nodded and began to leave before turning back again. “Oh, I almost forgot. The next time you see Sarah, could you just tell her you got her hug?”
Ali had to take a moment to digest the words, but she was still left perplexed. “Sure, but am I supposed to know what that means?”
He chuckled and scratched his temple. “She woke up when I put her in bed and was really upset she didn’t get to say good-bye to you.” Ali’s heart sank at the revelation, but he continued. “She asked if I’d give you a hug from her.”
Yes, yes, yes! Ali’s internal voice screamed, but she outwardly kept her cool. “Oh, in that case, do you think we should really lie to her?”
Hank grinned. “You do make a fair point.”
She innocently shrugged, and he stepped closer, allowing her to wrap her good arm around his neck while he gently squeezed her torso. His body was hard and warm, and Ali shut her eyes as she breathed in his masculine scent. When he began to pull away, she realized that this time it was she who was lingering.
Without meeting each other’s eyes, they exchanged hurried good-byes before Ali shut the door and leaned against the panel. Her heart was pounding erratically and her head was spinning. What the heck was this? She hadn’t felt like this in forever, but the exhilaration was refreshing. Although they’d had several missteps over the last week, something had definitely triggered Hank’s interest in her. What could it have been? Oh, who the heck cared! All she could see in her mind’s eye all night was his irresistible smile, and she fell asleep to the memory of what it felt like to be in his arms.
Sunday passed by at an arthritic snail’s pace. Although Ali couldn’t avoid questions about her previous day’s activities—apparently the outing was public knowledge in a matter of hours—she kept her upcoming date a secret from even Pete and Wylda. Even so, nothing she did could take her mind off seeing Hank again, and her inattentiveness quickly drew suspicions.
“Well, are you in or not?” Pete nudged her at the lunch table.
She looked up from arranging the remaining peas on her plate into a neat line. “Sorry, what?”
“Sailing this afternoon?” He emphasized each word separately. “Do you want to go?”
She was happy he was talking to her—or anyone else for that matter—and worried a rejection would stall his progress. “Sure.” She sighed, looking at her watch. Eighteen past one. Nearly six more hours to go.
While her intentions were good, the outcome almost cost Ali her previous plans. Skippering the small craft on the placid mountain lake was a welcome distraction, but when the rigging broke on the way back to the pier, it left them out on the water for much longer than she had calculated. The delay only allowed for a quick shower, and Ali ended up running in her heels and zebra-print halter dress to avoid missing the scheduled cab. She caught her breath on the drive while touching up her makeup in the backseat, and as they pulled up to the curb in front of the eight-story redbrick building, her date was already there waiting.
Her date. The term sent a wave of excitement over her as she caught a glimpse of him. Wearing a perfectly tailored suit and tie, and without the cowboy hat, Hank looked like he’d just stepped out of a corporate boardroom instead of a pickup truck. Ever the gentleman, he opened the cab’s door and slid the fare to the driver before Ali even realized what he’d done. Taking her hand and helping her out, he smiled coyly as his eyes traveled down her body.
“You look amazing.”
Three simple words, yet a shiver ran through her. “Thank you. You too.” She couldn’t contain a grin when he placed a hand at the small of her back and led her down the sidewalk, up three steps, and through the revolving door.
“I hope you like this place,” he said as they stepped into a massive atrium running the full eight stories, all the way up to the roof. Open hallways circled each floor, all lavishly decorated in a soft glow of golds and reds. “It’s a fairly well-known hotel in its own right, but the restaurant is definitely one of the best in Denver.”
“It’s lovely,” Ali agreed, acutely aware of the looks the female patrons were giving her companion as they passed the cocktail tables dotting the reception space. She smiled in satisfaction, knowing that—at least for the next few hours—his attention would solely be on her.
The dining area—tucked into a separate room in the back corner and lit m
ostly with sconces and candles—was warm and intimate. Dark wood and maroon leather added to the luxurious atmosphere, and the tuxedo-wearing host promptly led them to a semicircular booth. Without waiting for the wine list, Hank ordered a bottle of Pinot Noir as they slid onto the bench behind the table.
“Do you eat here often?” Ali asked as she opened her menu.
“Not really.” He unbuttoned his jacket and shifted in his spot, making himself more comfortable. “But our parents used to bring us here for special occasions when we were kids, so I have fond memories of it.”
He’d brought her to a place that was special to him—one with a personal connection—and on their first date, at that. Ali placed the menu back on the table and smiled. This was an excellent start, indeed. “You grew up in the area?” She hoped she could ease into finding out more.
“Yes, I did. But what about you?” He skillfully—and quickly—turned the conversation toward her. “Have you lived in New York all of your life?”
“How did you know I’m from New York?” She tilted her head and playfully pursed her red lips. She didn’t wear the bold color often, but the contrast was a perfect complement to her otherwise black-and-white attire. “You mentioned it at the bar last week. You didn’t read my file, did you?”
“Of course not. That would be unethical.” He frowned before softening his expression. “I asked Harriet.”
Although she was mostly joking with the insinuation, Ali felt relief at the disclosure. “I thought maybe working at Pebble Creek gave you access to my personal information.”
He moved around again, settling into a spot where his knee lightly touched hers. After also unnecessarily adjusting the cutlery, he finally looked up. “Even if it did, I wouldn’t have made use of that privilege.”
The statement’s sudden earnestness made her uneasy, and Ali glanced away. The affection a couple at the adjacent table was showing each other wasn’t any less unsettling, and she cleared her throat. “I like her. Harriet, that is. Asking her was quite smart.” Taking a deep breath, she turned back to Hank. “And to answer your question, I guess it depends on what you consider New York. I was raised on the eastern part of Long Island, but I’ve lived in Manhattan since college.”