His eyes widen in surprise by my comment while a boisterous laugh erupts from Wes. “Hell yeah, I’ll eat his, too,” Wes replies, pushing back from the table.
The legs of Brantley’s chair scrape loudly against the floor as he rushes towards the counter. I start laughing because I’ve never seen him move so fast. Just as his hands touch his plate, I see him let out a heavy breath. “Brantley, you know I was just kidding, right?” I didn’t mean to almost give him a heart attack.
“Well, I do now, but you can’t joke like that about food here in this house. When Wes is home, it’s survival of the fittest,” he answers.
“Oh come on, man. I’m not that bad and you know it,” Wes says, clapping Brantley on the shoulder while picking up his own plate.
I can’t help but laugh at the humor in Wes’ eyes and the panic in Brantley’s. I know Brantley is over exaggerating the whole Wes-with-food scenario.
Picking up my own plate, I ask before I go to sit down, “Sandy? Would you like me to take Mr. Will his food?”
“Oh, no, honey that’s fine. I’ll take it to him in a minute,” she answers, still slicing potatoes, not once looking up.
I pick up my food and drink, and join the guys at the table, listening intently to their conversation. With a mouth full of food, I stop mid-chew when Wes looks at me and asks, “What are you doing tonight?”
Holding a finger in front of my mouth, I indicate for him to hold on while I swallow. I take a drink of tea to help wash down my food. “I don’t have any plans. I thought I might spend some time with Autumn.”
“Well, there’s a bonfire tonight down by the creek. Brantley and I are goin’. So, why don’t you come with us?”
“Yeah, come on Kenleigh,” Brantley says enthusiastically.
“I’m not sure. I don’t really party much.” I look between the two of them, hoping they don’t push the issue.
“This is your second summer here. Come on. It’ll be a good time,” Brantley says, with his hands steepled under his chin as if he’s praying, begging me to go.
I laugh at his ridiculous posture. “Okay, okay, I’ll go. You don’t have to beg me, Brantley.” Before I can say anything more, I find myself lifted out of my chair and thrown over Brantley’s shoulder. He shouts about how it’s going to be the best bonfire he’s been to in ages. I can’t do anything except laugh.
“It sure is,” Wes murmurs under his breath. I’m sure he didn’t intend for anyone to hear him, but I did.
Upside down, I crane my head in his direction. He sits there with an amused expression on his face. When our eyes meet, a bright smile lights up my face. “You ready to go and check out those horses?” Wes asks, standing up from the table.
While blood rushes to my head from hanging upside down, I can’t seem to wipe the smile from my face. “Sure.”
“Brant, you got to let her down, man. Her face is as red as a rose,” Wes says, walking around the table towards Brantley and me.
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, Kenleigh,” he says, placing me back on my feet.
The blood rushing away from my face makes me lose my balance for a second. I feel myself swaying as spots start to take over my vision. Without warning, two strong arms wrap around my waist holding me upright. “Take a deep breath; it’ll help.” Wes’ voice in my ear automatically helps to relieve the dizziness, but a new feeling soon starts taking its place—safety. The warmth of his breath sends a tingle down my spine and goose bumps crawl across my skin.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
As my vision starts to come back, I step out of his embrace, embarrassed by my reaction to him. I pull open the screen door and look back over my shoulder at Wes. “You comin’?”
I lean against the stall with my arms folded on the ledge, my chin resting on top of them, looking at Lucy and Jane. I can’t help but think what the bonfire tonight is going to be like. It’s not as if I’ve never been to one before. I have. The last one I went to was graduation night. It was the night my high school boyfriend and I decided to end our relationship. The beginning of high school had been rough, but in my junior year, I pulled myself out of my funk and started living again. I met Jarred Daniels, who later became my boyfriend. We had a good relationship, but were more like friends rather than anything else. When it ended, neither one of us were actually all that upset.
“What are you thinking about?”
Pulled from my thoughts, I look to my left to see Wes standing in the doorway of the barn. His shoulder rests against the doorframe with his hands tucked into his pockets. His vibrant blue eyes sparkle as he looks at me intently.
A slow smile spreads across my face. “So, I take it you haven’t been home in a while?” I ask, changing the subject. Even though Jarred and I ended on reasonable terms, he’s not what I want to be discussing.
“Yeah. I haven’t. It’s nice, you know, to be back in my element,” he replies, walking over to stand next to me. He reaches into a satchel and pulls out a few carrots. “Are you from around here?”
“Nope. I was born and raised in Conroe, and now, I go to the University of Texas San Antonio.”
Lucy walks up to us, taking the carrots out of his hand. “What are you studying?”
“I’m still undecided, but I’m leaning toward nursing,” I reply, reaching for the cheek strap on the bridle and pulling Lucy toward me. When she starts to protest, I slowly reach out with my other hand, and gently run it up and down in a soothing manner along her forehead. “Shh… It’s okay. Nobody will hurt you,” I soothe. Her eyes find mine, and she immediately begins to settle.
“What made you choose nursing?”
“I haven’t chosen, yet, but I like to help people,” I reply. “It’s seems fitting, I guess.”
“You seem really good with horses, too.” Wes nods at Lucy who seems much more at ease with me now.
“And how do figure that?”
He smirks at me as he taps his finger against his temple. “I can tell. I’ve been raised with horses. Trust me, I’m good at reading people and you seem to be good with them.”
I nod, contemplating his answer. “I love horses. I’ve been around them since I was thirteen. Once I learned how to ride, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“I can understand that. Mom and Dad didn’t start Operation Love until five years ago. You know?”
You can hear the love he feels for his parents just from the way he looks and talks about them. I turn to look at him, but he’s looking at Lucy when I reply, “I do. It’s a good organization and I believe in what they’re doin’.”
“Do you know what made them start it up?” he asks, looking at me.
I give a slight shake of my head. I never asked. I just assumed they did it because they love kids.
“My cousin had cystic fibrosis and the only thing that seemed to make him happy was when he was here at the ranch. We all knew he wasn’t gonna live to see eighteen. When he’d come here on weekends or spring break, we would both go riding. It was like nothing else mattered, not his sickness, not his inevitable death—nothing. He could be so sick, but when he came here, he would wear the biggest smile.”
“I’m sorry about your cousin.” It’s all I can say. I know it doesn’t change anything, or take away the pain that his family has suffered, but it’s all I know to say. After my parents passed away, all I ever heard was ‘I’m sorry’. It bothered me, but I learned to accept it, because I eventually realized that my parents weren’t only loved by me, but by a whole lot of other people, too.
I can tell that Wes and his cousin had a close relationship. Compassion rings through his tone. His eyes look so far away, like he’s traveled back in time and is here with his cousin again.
“Shall we?” he asks, nodding towards the horses while looking at me.
Snapping my eyes away from him, I turn away answering hastily, “Yeah.”
A soft chuckle escapes him as I back up, allowing him to open the stall. “What? Are you laughing at me?” I ask.
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“I would never laugh at you.” He laughs even harder.
With my jaw agape, I playfully slap him on the arm. “Yes, you are.” I know a blush has just taken over my entire face from being caught staring at him. Willing it away, I say, “Just get in there so we can get to work on these horses.”
“Yes ma’am,” he says, throwing his head back in laughter.
I shake my head at him and can’t help but laugh, too.
“And there it is.” He stares back at me, his laughter subsiding.
No longer laughing, my eyebrows dip down. “Huh?”
“Your laugh.” Is all he says, as if it’s obvious.
“What about my laugh?”
“I like it.”
Well, hell, I’ve never had anyone say that to me before, not even Jarred, and we dated for a year and a half. There’s a weird feeling in my stomach that I can’t name, but I think I could get used to it. Deciding to leave his comment up in the air, I walk over to the side of the stall and grab a brush off the wall. “Why don’t you take Jane, and I’ll take Lucy?”
Without waiting for him to reply, I slowly approach Lucy, gauging her reaction to me. When I realize she’s not going to startle, I reach out to rub her forehead again. Cautiously, I lift the brush and softly begin to stroke downwards on her dark brown mane. “Now, that’s not so bad, is it?” I ask softly, mesmerized by how well Lucy is taking to me.
I don’t know how long I spend brushing Lucy, but when I look up, I see Wes’ eyes on me. I don’t know why he keeps looking at me, but I kind of like it. With a need to break the silence, I ask, “What time is the bonfire tonight?”
“We’ll probably head over there around nine. That’s around the time it usually gets dark.” He’s still looking at me, but I continue to brush along Lucy’s hindquarters.
“Do you know everyone who’s gonna be there?” I don’t look up at him because I’m afraid I’ll get sucked into his gaze. Instead, I concentrate on taking off Lucy’s bridle.
“Mostly, yeah. It’s gonna be a lot of people I went to high school with.”
“That’ll be nice for you to see everyone,” I reply, looking over at him with a faint smile.
“Yeah, it’ll be good. I haven’t seen anyone in a while.”
“I don’t mean to pry, but what do you do that has you living in Dallas?”
“I’m a professional bull rider. I can pretty much live anywhere, but I like Dallas,” he answers with a shrug.
“Do you miss living here?”
“Yes and no. I miss being close to my family, but I don’t miss the small town life. What about you? Do you miss home?”
I don’t know how to answer him. I don’t talk about my parents or that fateful night often. I remember them, and what they were like, but even seven years later, it’s still hard to talk about them. “Sometimes.”
“Do you see your family often? I mean, I know it’s gotta be hard with you in San Antonio for school.”
“I go home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, so it’s not too bad.”
“And you come and spend the summers here.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. It’s as if he knows that I’d rather be here than at home partying with my friends.
“I like it out here. It’s nice, peaceful, and quiet. I love it when the kids come, even if it is only for three weeks. Plus, you have really awesome parents.”
“Yeah, they are pretty cool. And I can tell that they really like you. I’ve never known them to let a volunteer stay in the house.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just continue unstrapping Lucy’s bridle. I have no clue why they let me stay in the house this summer either, but I won’t complain. Last summer, I shared a room with Jackie. She’s not bad or anything; she’s actually really nice, but that girl can talk. When I asked her why she was here, she said she has a little brother with muscular dystrophy, and that their mom got him involved with horse therapy and it helped raise his spirits. Being an only child, I wouldn’t know how it would feel to watch a sibling suffer.
Changing the subject, I say, “Do you know Jackie? She’s coming in next week.” By his wide set eyes, and suddenly pale expression, I can tell he knows whom I’m talking about. “Oh, so you do know Jackie, huh?” I can’t help, but laugh.
“Keep that girl away from me.” His stern expression only causes me to laugh harder.
“She’s not that bad. Yes, she talks a lot, but she really is a nice person.” I puff out my cheeks a couple of times to ease the ache, as I attempt to calm down from my outburst of laughter.
“Let’s just say that when I was here last, which was three summers ago, she stayed glued to my hip. I didn’t want to be rude, but after a while, it became annoying.” He pauses for a second. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry again.” Wes plays my own game of changing the subject against me.
I reach into my back pocket and pull out my cell phone to check the time. I can’t believe that we’ve been out here for three hours already. Slipping my phone back in place, I answer, “Yeah we should probably get back in the house. I’m sure your momma is gonna want some help cookin’ dinner.”
I walk over to the cabinet where the brushes are and replace the one that I used on Lucy. Next, I hang the bridle on the corner of the cabinet. I reach my hand into another satchel filled with oats. Turning back to Lucy, I walk up to her, holding out the oats in my outstretched hand. As she bends down to eat them, I give her a pep talk. “So, tomorrow, Lucy, we’re gonna work on putting the saddle on ya. So, don’t give me a hard time. Okay, girl?” I rub her forehead once more before walking out of the stall to see Wes waiting patiently for me.
“Thanks,” I say as he closes the stall door behind me.
As the warm summer wind blows, I sweep my hair to one side so the air can cool my neck while we walk toward the house. “How long are you here for?” I ask.
“The summer. I told Mom and Dad that I’d stay. When they said that we didn’t see each other often enough, I realized they were right.”
I inhale deep breaths when I realize how close he’s walking next to me. Close enough for me to smell his cologne, but not close enough that he touches me.
“Do you come home at all?” Although I haven’t been home since Christmas, I couldn’t fathom not going home at all.
“Yeah, but it’s normally only for a week here and there.”
“Well, I know they’re glad you’re here,” I say, playfully nudging his arm with my elbow.
“Me, too.” The husky tone, mixed with the way he’s looking at me, makes my heart beat faster. All of a sudden, the easy, playful banter is gone and replaced with something else. Something I can’t quite make out. I look up at him. My breath catches when I realize our faces are mere inches away from each other. With his face so close to mine, I take a couple of quick steps back to put some distance between us.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… You know… How close…” I stop talking. The recognizable heat from my blush creeps up from my neck to my face, making me feel like a blubbering idiot.
“It’s okay, but you should know we have all summer,” he replies, looking me in the eye.
“What?” I ask, with a nervous chuckle, tearing my eyes away from his.
“Let’s just say, Kenleigh, that I’ve heard a lot about you, and now that I’ve met you, I intend to get to know you,” he answers before he turns away from me, leaving me out on the front porch looking utterly dumbfounded.
He’s heard a lot about me. What the hell does that mean? Out of nowhere, it hits me. Sandy. I wasn’t imagining things when I saw that look on her face earlier. Seems like she’s been planning this for a while. Well, Sandy, you may get your wish, because I like what I see, too.
I check myself over one last time in the full-length mirror in my room. Wes asked me to be ready by eight thirty. I’ve tried really hard to forget his comment outside, but it’s hopeless. All I can think about is how close those plump, kissable lips were to mine. I�
��d kissed Jarred a lot, but never before have I wanted so badly for someone to kiss me. I’m in uncharted territories here. All my life, I’ve prided myself for not being ‘that girl’, you know the one who throws herself at any guys feet, but I can’t deny the attraction I have toward Wes either.
My cream-colored, strapless, lace dress rests right above my knees, making my deep tan seem darker. The long, brown hair I inherited from my mother hangs loosely down my back, meeting the top of my dress. Black eyeliner and mascara make my bright, blue eyes identical to my father’s pop. Rummaging through my bag, I pull out dark brown leather boots that I’ve worn more times than I count. When I slip them on, I find the comfort that my feet have cried for all day. After driving in flip-flops, and then hanging out with Wes in the barn for three hours, my feet have been dying for some cushion.
I stand and smooth my dress down one more time as a knock sounds on my door. “Hang on,” I say to the person on the other side of it.
After grabbing my clutch off the nightstand, I open the door and gasp. Well, hello, Mr. Wesley Adams. My eyes slowly travel up the dark denim jeans that hug his powerful thighs in all the right places. A black, button-up shirt hangs open, revealing a grey undershirt that strains against his taut chest. The sleeves, rolled up to his elbows, expose roped muscles that travel the lengths of his forearms. His blond hair has that I-can’t-resist-you look. You know the look; the one where it seems that he’s run his fingers through it, which makes me want to do the same. His eyes, the gorgeous, Caribbean blue that I first found stunning, now radiate something else entirely. I know I should say something, but I’m speechless.
Closing the distance between us, he leans down next to my ear and asks, “Why are you staring at me like that.” By the gruffness in his tone, I don’t think he minds that he caught me staring at him.
I refuse to feed his ego. He knows he looks good. Shit, even a blind person could describe the perfection that’s standing before me, so I choose my words carefully. “You clean up nice.” It’s all I’m going to say. He’s already caught me molesting him with my eyes.
Serenity Falls Page 3