by R. S. Kovach
“A cab!” she exclaimed, slipping out of his grip and hailing the approaching vehicle.
“Great,” Hank murmured. When the car stopped, he opened its rear door and held on to its frame with one hand. “You still haven’t answered.”
Ali stepped up to the cab. “I haven’t been very good at making decisions lately,” she admitted, scrunching her nose for added effect.
He laughed, throwing his head back. “I don’t know whether it would be good or not, but if you do want to give it another go, I promise I can be discreet.”
Ali gasped. She’d given him an easy escape, yet he’d refused it. “You want to take me out again?”
He nodded, playfully pursing his lips.
Studying the light stubble framing his shapely mouth, Ali knew she’d regret saying anything but yes. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he repeated, transitioning into a full-blown grin.
She nodded, standing in front of him and waiting for the inevitable good-bye. When the moment extended awkwardly and Hank still didn’t act, she sighed and slipped into the cab’s backseat. “When you come up with a plan, you know where to find me.”
Ali began fiddling with the seat belt, but even after multiple attempts, she couldn’t get it to work. Noticing her struggle, Hank leaned into the vehicle, reached over, and clicked the unruly buckle shut. With their faces just inches apart, he looked down at her lips before wetting his own. “Good night.”
She didn’t have time to respond before he moved in, and Ali instinctively closed her eyes. His touch was inviting, but the kiss was not much more than a casual peck. The moment was over much too quickly before he stepped out of the way and shut the door.
Ali had four missed calls and three increasingly frantic voice mails from her mother by the time she checked her phone on the way home. In spite of the two-hour time difference, Grace answered her return call after one ring. She could hear her father blissfully snoring in the background. “Oh, thank heavens, darling. Why on earth haven’t you been picking up?”
She stared at the starry sky through the cab’s window. “Sorry, Mom. I was busy.”
The line was momentarily silent before Grace spoke again. “What could they have you doing at that place this late at night?”
“I wasn’t at Pebble Creek,” she mumbled, knowing her mother would see through a lie.
Grace scoffed. “Well, where were you?”
Ali bit her lip, holding back the first not-so-suitable answer that came to mind. She was nearly thirty years old and half a dozen states away, yet the woman still expected an answer. “Out.”
“With who?” Her mother’s pitch elevated two levels with curiosity.
She sidestepped. “Why did you call, Mom? Is everything okay?”
“Oh, everything’s fine.” Grace could switch gears faster than a race car driver. “Marco’s going to be shooting at Fashion Week in Paris this year, isn’t that wonderful?”
Ali rolled her eyes. Of course her mother would call just to gush about her favorite child. What she always failed to mention was how her younger brother went through women faster than a gallon of milk, or how he’d lost his savings—twice—through questionable deals recommended by not-so-upright friends.
After dutifully hearing her mother out as she described whose connections led to which designer inviting Marco along, Ali ended the conversation, glad at least that the attention was off her. Monday couldn’t come fast enough, and she wondered how and when she’d get to meet up with Hank again. He usually wasn’t around before noon, so she didn’t expect to see him at least until her regularly scheduled therapy session.
When she entered the stables the next day looking for Dr. Sacher, Ali found the handsome cowboy going in and out of the stalls busily taking care of the horses. With his sleeves rolled up and jeans covered in hay dust, he distributed a wheelbarrow full of feed among the animals, pausing long enough to show them some individual attention. Although he had kept his word so far to stay discreet, she almost melted into a gooey puddle when he flashed her a friendly smile while giving a colt named Thunder a good scratching behind the ear.
After her meeting with Dr. Sacher on Friday, when the psychiatrist practically tricked her into admitting that she was a perfectionist, Ali was once again reluctant to share more about herself in therapy. But since their first session in the paddock had also ended disastrously, Ali wasn’t sure whether Dr. Sacher’s saddling a horse was going to turn out better than before. The woman slipped the final strap through its buckle and yanked it into place when Ali joined her, but as they began to lead the animal outside, a stall door creaked open.
“Hey, Doc,” a congenial but authoritative voice called after them. “Can I borrow Ali for a sec?”
“Sure, Hank.” The therapist nodded. “I’ll be out in the paddock when you’re done.”
He watched the psychiatrist lead the horse out before turning to Ali. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Okay,” she whispered, feeling her heartbeat accelerate.
He tipped his hat back and scratched his forehead. “Um . . . about last night . . .”
Oh, god. He was going to say it was all a mistake and they should end things before they got any further. He’d probably realized she was more trouble than she was worth and regretted getting involved with her. She was nothing like him and would be going back to New York in a few weeks anyway, so why would he want to waste time on her now?
The frantic thoughts rushed through Ali’s head in the fraction of a second it took for Hank to pause for breath. She waited for him to let her down easy, but instead of avoiding her eyes or fidgeting nervously as she expected, he looked at her and grinned.
“I don’t know about you, but I feel like I didn’t make the proper first impression last night.” He subtly licked his lips and glanced down at hers. “I’m pretty sure I could do better given the chance.”
Ali’s eyes flew open as she realized he was talking about their brief kiss. “You . . . you want a do-over?” she stammered, recalling the previous evening’s farewell.
“I guess I do. Is that okay?” He tilted his head playfully.
“Here?” She looked toward the open barn doors. Although they were out of sight, the faint sounds of other guests’ voices came from not far away. Hank understood her meaning. Turning around and opening the nearest stall door, he motioned for her to follow.
A large black stallion lifted his head and snorted at the unexpected company. Ali stayed close to the wall separating the horse’s space from the adjacent box, but Hank stepped forward to greet the animal. Holding its chin in one hand and stroking its nose with another, he whispered reassuring words until the horse returned to scavenging for stray oats in the hay.
With a confident smile, he returned to Ali. Gazing into her eyes, he cupped her face in his hands and leaned in. Although she wanted nothing more than what was about to happen, she couldn’t help but scrunch her nose.
“What’s wrong?” He pulled back.
“I’m so sorry, but you were just petting him and now you’re touching my face—” she began, but the superficiality of the complaint made her blush. She’d been around horses all her life and now she was getting squeamish about getting a little horsey smell on her?
“Oh, man.” He dropped his hands and began looking around. Not finding whatever he was looking for, he drew his shirtsleeve over his palm and began gently scrubbing her cheek. “You’re right. That was so stupid.”
Ali giggled; he was extra cute when he was being so attentive. She allowed him to go on for a few more seconds, watching his stoic expression as he fussed over her. “It’s fine,” she reassured him before taking his hands in hers and placing them on her hips.
He raised his brows at the unexpected move but waited for her to continue. Fearing her burst of courage would dissipate, Ali reached for his neck, pushed herself up on her
toes, and locked her lips onto his.
Hank responded at once, his mouth opening and his tongue searching for hers. He tasted of coffee and mint, the flavors mixing between them. Pulling her closer, he moved his grip lower, and she leaned against his chest, clasping her hands around the back of his head in response. Their breathing ragged, he continued to nibble at her lips as their initial fervor decreased, but it took Ali pulling away to make him stop.
“Satisfied?” She smirked, still tasting him on her tongue.
He grinned in return, with creases appearing at the corners of his mischievous eyes. “Hmm. Pleased, yes. Satisfied? Hell no.” He slid one hand up her spine and dug his hand into her hair to pull her back against him.
Their lips crushed against each other again, but after a few moments, it was now Hank who finally let up. “You need to go.”
“I know,” she whispered, stroking his face one more time. Turning around, she rubbed her temple. “But how am I supposed to go out after that?”
“Buck up, cowpoke.” He exaggerated a Southern drawl while playfully slapping her on the rear.
She looked over her shoulder and giggled. “Is that the best you got?”
Hank grabbed her from behind and pulled her back against him. “I don’t think you’re ready yet to handle my best,” he whispered in her ear, grazing her face with his. A chill ran through Ali’s entire body, and she was sure staying with him for the rest of her mandatory session would have done more good for her psyche than an hour with the therapist waiting in the paddock. But since she didn’t have a choice, she reluctantly shuffled away.
“Hot damn,” she muttered as Hank chuckled behind her.
As promised, Dr. Sacher was waiting for her outside. “How was the fair?” She lowered the hoof she’d just been inspecting.
Ali dropped her gaze to her boots, suddenly very aware of her still-elevated heart rate and flushed cheeks. Everyone already knew she had spent Saturday with Hank and the kids, but why did she let him pull her aside like that? So much for discretion.
“I never did anything like that before, but it was fun.” She forced a smile to hide her embarrassment.
“New experiences are good as long as we’re not using them to hide from things we’re not ready to face.” Dr. Sacher patted the horse’s neck, and Ali mentally prepared for the inevitable psychoanalysis. The woman, however, changed course. “But we’ll crack that nut another time. Now, as you know, we offer outpatient equine-assisted therapy, and given your expertise in horsemanship, I thought you could help me with a lesson today.”
Relieved to temporarily have the attention off herself, Ali let out a deep breath. “Gladly. Who’s the lucky taker?”
Dr. Sacher nodded toward a teenager sitting on the horizontal fence beams, dangling her feet into the paddock. “This will be Jessica’s first exposure to horses. I’ll let you get started while I have a few words with her mother. Can you handle that?”
“Sure, but why is she here?” Ali asked, but when the woman offered no response, she clarified. “I mean, what’s the reason for the therapy?”
“I’m afraid that’s protected information, and for our purposes today, it really doesn’t matter.” She patted Ali’s arm reassuringly. “Just take it slow, and you should be fine.”
As the therapist headed for her mother, Jessica jumped off the fence and ran to Ali. After quick formalities—and one more wishful glance toward the barn—they dove into the lesson.
“The most important thing to remember when dealing with a horse is to make sure you’re both comfortable.” Ali held the noseband and stroked the mare’s snout. “They’re extremely intelligent animals who crave your leadership. To give them that, you need to make sure to be confident and assertive.”
“I don’t know.” Jessica stepped back when the horse stomped her foot. “She’s so big.”
Ali smiled. “Well, that’s one thing I can’t argue with. But I can show you some tricks that I’ve learned over the years to make her seem less intimidating. And the first one is pretty easy.” She pulled a sugar cube from her pocket and put it into the girl’s upturned palm.
“Jessica, meet Cinnamon. Cinnamon, this is Jessica.” Ali made the introductions as the horse gingerly sucked up the small treat from the giggling girl’s hand.
Dr. Sacher returned, but she stayed in the background, casually waving off Ali’s concerned look. “Don’t mind me. Keep going as you were.”
Continuing with the basics, Ali showed Jessica all the pieces in the horse’s tack. They practiced the name, purpose, and proper application of each strap, buckle, and implement until the girl could recite them flawlessly. Ali then showed her how to properly lead the animal around the enclosure, first by doing it herself and then allowing Jessica to try.
“Excellent,” Ali noted as they rounded the paddock for the second time. “I think you’ve earned the right to hop into the saddle.”
This time, the girl didn’t back away. “Can you show me first?”
Ali nodded. “Sure. You need to shorten the reins, then reach up and grab the saddle horn with your left hand like this.” She demonstrated. “Put your left foot into the stirrup and while balancing your right hand on the seat, pull yourself up like so.”
The mare took a few small steps as Ali swung her leg over her back, putting her entire weight into the saddle. “Then stick your right foot into the other stirrup, straighten your back, and adjust the length of the reins so you can comfortably guide the horse. Dismounting is exactly the same, but backward.” Narrating that process, she easily got off the horse and handed the reins to Jessica. “Let’s see how you do it.”
The girl looked at her mother—still standing outside the fence—who nodded in encouragement. As Ali watched, she climbed into the saddle with just minor assistance.
“I did it.” Jessica beamed, filling Ali with pride as she remembered her own first experience mounting. Horses used to be such a large and positive part of her life. She envied the girl her innocent joy.
“Are you up for a walk around the paddock?”
This time, Jessica didn’t need anyone’s help in deciding. “Yeah.” She nodded before Ali began leading Cinnamon.
“Excellent lesson, Ms. Barros.” The therapist walked alongside, addressing her directly for the first time since they’d begun.
“Thank you.” Ali was also pleased with how it had gone. “I’ve really wanted to try my hand at coaching, but I’ve always been busy with my own training. I appreciate the opportunity.”
“Perhaps Jessica can finish the lap on her own?”
Ali looked up at the teen and held out the reins. “Give her a light squeeze with your lower legs to get started, keep your back straight and the lead loose. Are you up for it?”
The girl nodded hesitantly. “Okay.”
“We’ll be close if you need us.” Ali smiled and stepped away.
“I must admit, I did have ulterior motives for asking you to do this today.” Dr. Sacher joined Ali and watched intently for her reaction.
Ali scoffed. She’d had a feeling there was some reverse psychology at play. “Honestly, Dr. Sacher, getting on the horse isn’t the problem.” She kicked the dirt with her boot, addressing the obstacle she had successfully—and surprisingly easily—overcome. “Not having control once I’m up there? That fear is going to take more than giving a riding lesson to overcome.”
The therapist smiled. “Nicely said, Ms. Barros. Now we’re getting somewhere. A few more admissions like that, and you may be ready to go home.”
Ali stuck her hands in her pockets. “Have I never said that out loud?”
“Not to me, but I’m very pleased with your progress. I can’t wait to see how you’ll do next time.” The therapist patted her on the shoulder and left to finish Jessica’s lap.
With the girl’s lesson—and her own session—over, Ali headed back to
her room. A folded piece of paper and three wildflowers had been slipped underneath the door.
I had to leave for the day, but meet me at the end of the driveway tomorrow at 3 pm? Dress for a hike! —H
◆ ◆ ◆
As she jogged down the lodge’s private access road the following day, Ali’s stomach did the sort of flips she only ever experienced at the beginning of a relationship. Given her track record of favoring less committed liaisons for the sake of convenience, such feelings didn’t happen very often, and she wasn’t sure how she really felt about opening herself up to them. Her pragmatic side warned her to keep things with Hank casual; she certainly wasn’t sticking around for long. But the romantic in her squashed those worries. She was here to get back her old mojo, and if seizing the opportunity with him was part of that process, then so be it.
The familiar black truck was already parked at the intersection when she arrived, and she opened the door and climbed in. “Have you been here long?”
“Nope.” Hank shook his head, but instead of putting the still-running car into gear, he hesitated. “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought some driving music.” Turning the stereo on, he skipped a few tracks until he found what he was looking for. After a few beats, Ali’s jaw dropped as “Brown Eyed Girl” began to play.
“You big, fat jerk!” She playfully punched him in the shoulder.
He grinned, bobbing his head with the music while turning up the volume. “I thought you’d enjoy the nostalgia.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” She swatted his hand away from the controls. “And who owns CDs anymore, anyway?”
He sang a few words of the chorus before responding. “I borrowed it from Dave.”
Ali couldn’t help giggling, but things became more interesting when Hank reached over to kiss her. Not as demure as the first time, but more restrained than the second, he managed to make the act both casual and intimate all at once. It certainly didn’t fall short of her daydreams, and as his mouth left hers, she was already missing his nearness.