With a smile, I shake my head at the conversation between Wes and John. “Do you mind if I help John?” Bailey asks me.
“No. That’s fine.”
“Thanks. I’m just gonna take John over to the arts and crafts area,” Bailey says as Wes slides over for her to take his spot behind John.
“Sounds good. I’ll come find you guys in a bit.” With that, Bailey wheels John away.
My eyes turn to Wes. I cross my arms over my chest as I try to conceal my smile and give him a pointed look. “Girls are trouble, huh?”
His eyes take me in, scanning my body from head to toe. In a pair of khaki shorts, a red tank top, white sneakers, hair pulled back into a bun, and no makeup, he still makes me feel like I’m irresistible to him. “Oh, yeah, definitely trouble.” He cocks his head toward the barn. “Come with me?”
With a nod, I follow him. We walk side by side into the empty barn. There are no people milling around; most of the horses are gone, from what I can see. Without warning, he yanks me sideways into an empty stall, and I stumble over my own two feet before my back collides with rough wood. “What the—” I gasp out. But before I can comprehend what just happened, Wes’ lips crash down on mine.
My mind goes blank. The only thing that consumes my thoughts right now is our mouths devouring each other. My hands glide up his chest, feeling each and every ripple of muscle under his shirt, over his shoulders, around his neck, and into his hair, I hold him to me. His solid, hard, unyielding body presses into mine as a deep groan escapes him. His strong hands find my backside. He palms my ass as he lifts me off the ground. My legs wrap around his narrow hips as he presses me harder into the wall behind me. Lost in the moment, I flick my tongue against his upper lip, begging for entrance into his mouth.
This kiss is one of desperation. Our tongues mold, glide, fold, and eventually fade into one as we seek and memorize every inch of each other’s mouths. I speak around our frantic lips. “I’ve… missed… you.”
“God… I need you, Kenleigh,” Wes mumbles against my jaw as he begins to trail open-mouthed kisses further down onto my neck.
As my back arches into him, he presses his groin into me and makes contact with the one spot that aches for his attention. “Wes.” When I gasp his name from the sensation, he roughly squeezes my ass.
“That’s right, Baby. I’m the one who does this to you. Only me. It will only ever be me,” he whispers against my ear as he grinds against me harder.
Although my body is on fire from his touch, it feels like someone is watching us. As I become more aware of our surroundings, I tap him on the shoulder; all the while, his lips continue their terrific assault along the slope of my neck. “Wes. Wes,” I whisper, as I try to get his attention.
“Hmm… I love when you say my name,” he murmurs against my neck.
I playfully slap him on the shoulder and giggle. Finally, I get his attention when his eyes meet mine. “Someone’s in here,” I say quietly.
I’m still pinned against the wall as he peers out into the breezeway of the barn. Wes looks from left to right and back before he turns his attention back to me. “Babe, there’s no one in here. At least, not that I can see.”
I push back against his shoulders. Grudgingly, he sets me on my feet. “I’m telling you, it felt like someone was watching us. I could feel it. Anyhow, I think if we continue to carry on like that, we may have a repeat of Friday night, and right now is not the time or the place for that.” I lace my arms around his neck.
He grabs a hold of my hips and pulls my body flush against his. The evidence that’s pressed against my stomach tells me he thinks right now is the perfect time and place. Wes leans down and lightly kisses the shell of my ear before he whispers, “Okay. But just know this. This weekend, you’re mine.”
My eyes roll into the back of my head, and my body shudders at the heat of his breath against my sensitive flesh, and his whispered words of spoken promises. I take a deep breath and try to regain my composure. I step out of his embrace, lean in, and tenderly peck his lips one last time. “All right, cowboy. We better go before people start looking for us.”
After leaving Wes, I make myself a glass of iced tea. Right after our extremely heated moment in the barn, I needed something to cool me down quick. I wait for about ten minutes before I go back in and saddle up two horses. With the reigns in one hand and helmets in the other, we set off to find Bailey and John. The horses follow behind me as I lead them over to the arts and crafts area. From a short distance, I see John’s wheelchair. Flames sprawl out against the leather material in all different directions. Red, orange, and yellow hues pop out against the black background. As I approach, the sound of their laughter brings a smile to my face. When I clear my throat, their heads snap to me. “If you’re almost done, Bailey, I thought we could go for a ride.” I lift the reigns with a shrug of my shoulders. “I mean, that’s if it’s all right with you, John?” My eyes meet his.
“Yeah. Sure. Liam should be back any minute. He just went to get me something to drink,” John replies.
“Bailey?” Silently, my eyes plead with her to come with me.
“Why not? I’m done anyway.” She gets up off the ground.
“We’ll see you later?” I shoot a wink at John.
“Yep.” He nods with a smile.
“Follow me this way. I’ll help you get on her once we get closer to the barn,” I say as I lead the horses and Bailey away.
I gently tug on the reins to halt the horses and come to a stop. “Right here. This should be fine.” I look around to make sure we have plenty of space so that I can help Bailey up onto the horse. “All right. Come on over here.” I drop the reins to my horse. “So, you’re gonna put your left foot in this stirrup here, and grab onto the horn of the saddle. Once you feel like your footing is good, I’ll help lift you while you swing your right leg over the horse.”
“Do I really have to ride the horse?” She whines.
“No. You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, but I want to take you somewhere. It would be a lot faster if we rode instead of walked.” I hand over the helmet to her. “Put this on, please?”
“Really?”
“Just humor me.” I tilt my head to the side as she snatches the helmet from my hand.
Bailey’s movements are slow with trepidation as she approaches the horse. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’m going to be with you the whole time. I promise.”
With a slight smile, she nods. She does exactly as I instructed. She places her left foot in the stirrup and her hand grips the horn. “You ready?”
“Yeah.”
I grab onto her waist and hoist her up, she pushes with her left foot, and at the same time, she swings her leg over the saddle. “Good. Now, scoot up a little to where you fit in the saddle as comfortable as possible.”
“This is really high up,” she says as she adjusts in her seat.
“It is. But you’ve already done the hard part. Now, I’m going to hand you the reigns. Do you remember what we talked about yesterday? Just let them hang loose, not too much tension, and she’ll hold steady for you.”
As soon as I hand her the reigns, I walk over to my own horse and successfully make it onto my own saddle. “All right, go ahead and hand me the reigns, and we’ll get going. Just hold onto the horn and enjoy the ride.” I turn to her with a smile and see that she’s completely enamored with her horse as she leans forward to pet her horse’s neck.
I squeeze my thighs and click my tongue to get my horse going. She sets off into a slow and steady pace. As we walk out into the pasture, my eyes slide over to see Bailey looking all around us. I know she’s nervous. Her back sits up straight, and her arms are stiff and locked, but the white-knuckled grip she has on the horn of the saddle is a dead giveaway. Yesterday, she made it a point to reiterate over and over again that she’s never ridden a horse before. “See. This isn’t so bad, is it?”
Bailey shrugs her shoulders. “I guess not
.”
“Then why are you gripping the horn of the saddle so hard?” I flick my eyes between her and her hands, and a little laugh bubbles up from inside me.
She chuckles at my response. I guess she didn’t think that I’d catch how nervous she seems. “I’m still a little nervous.”
I nod, accepting her answer. We ride in comfortable silence for a little while before I see our destination up ahead. “Where are we going?” Bailey asks, breaking the silence.
“Right over there.” I nod to where a tall, oak tree stands. A tire swing hangs like a pendulum from its outstretched limbs. The dark green leaves sway in the wind and the branches move back and forth with fluidity. I know it’s the same one that Wes’ parents used to take their picture in front of. Instead, this time, it’s not a normal swing but a tire swing. As we grow closer, the black rubber looks slightly worn and faded from the hot Texas sun.
When I pull back on the reigns, the horses come to a stop next to an adjacent tree. I hop off my horse and tie both horses’ reigns to a branch. Once secured, I walk over to Bailey and help her to dismount.
“Come on.”
Her eyes go wide, and her jaw drops as I point to the tire swing. She looks at me in an ‘are-you-serious’ expression as she shakes her head adamantly. “No way. I’m not sitting on that thing. It looks like it’s about to give at any time.”
“I promise you. It’s fine. There aren’t any tears in it, and the rope still looks to be in good condition,” I reply as I inspect the condition of the tire and rope for good measure. I give the tire a little shove to show her just how safe it is. “I know you wanna have a little fun.” I goad her with a smile as I try to tempt her to get on the tire swing.
I walk away from the tire swing and over to Bailey when I realize she is not going to budge. Without thinking, I reach for her hand and grab it in mine. I pull her over to the creek’s edge. “Sit.” My tone is stern as I point to the grass before I release her hand. She stands there for a minute, contemplating whether to sit, before she does so grudgingly. I take a seat next to her and draw my knees up to my chest. I wrap my arms around legs and rest my head on my knees as I stare out at the creek below. “I thought I saw you having fun with John earlier?”
Minutes tick by as I wait for Bailey to reply to me. Her voice is soft with a slight tremble to it when she decides to answer. “I was, and now I feel bad about it.”
“You know you don’t have to feel bad.”
“You think I don’t know that. I don’t want to have fun. I only want my brother, my best friend, back. I don’t want to feel like I’m forgetting him.” Pain is evident in her tone, and I can’t help but think how I used to be the same way.
“I know you’re angry.”
“No, I’m not,” she retorts.
“Okay. Maybe. Maybe not. But I know I was mad when my parents died. ”
Bailey picks up a rock and throws it out into the trickling water before she turns to look at me. “You think you know me now?”
“No. I know what you’re going through, though. When my parents died, I was angry for a long time. After the anger subsided, then I was sad and broken for even longer.”
She turns her attention from me back to the creek. “What happened to them?”
“A fire. I was angry at the fire department for not getting there in time. I was angry with God for taking them from me. I was angry with the neighbors for holding me back. Maybe if they had let me go, I could have caught my dad. I might have been able to save his life. But mostly I was angry at myself…” I say, trailing off.
“Why? Did you start the fire?” she asks.
“No. My mom was already outside when my dad came back into the house for me. I didn’t know what was going on at first. I was scared… really scared. I did not want to climb out the window, and argued with my dad about it. I can only assume that, because it was taking us so long, that was the reason my mom went back in the house.” I take a deep breath and beg myself not to break down. “My dad and I finally made it out, only to find that my mother had gone back in after us.” My pleas echo in my ears as I recall how I screamed for him not to leave me. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut as I try to repress the memories. “He went back in after her and neither one of them ever came back out.” Pain spears my heart as I remember that fateful night that changed my life. The tears spill over and glide down my face as my body convulses from my silent sobs.
We sit there on the soft grass for a while, neither of us saying a word. The sounds of the water below washing over the rocks and lapping against the creek’s edge surround us. I run my fingers through the soft blades of the grass; the sensation calms my thoughts. Bailey’s soft voice breaks through the silence and pulls me back to the present.
“Trent, my brother, was hit by a drunk driver. We both were.” I have my eyes trained solely on her. She’s looking out at the water, her face impassive. “My mom and dad had gone out to do some shopping. They were taking forever, so I literally begged my brother to take me to get some ice cream. He kept telling me no, but I knew how to get him to do almost anything I wanted.” A ghost of a smile appears on her face. As fast as it appears, it’s gone.
“Trent kept saying ‘No Bailey. I can’t take you. I have homework. You have homework,’ but I was already done, and I pointed that out to him. ‘Come on Bailey, I really don’t want to go anywhere. Why don’t you just wait until Mom gets here and have her take you?’” she says using a deep male voice, mimicking her brother.
“Then I turned on the charm, and he fell for it hook-line-and-sinker. ‘Why would I want Mom to take me? I have the most awesome big brother in the world. Plus, I don’t wanna ride in Mom’s van. It’ll cramp my style.’ He laughed when I said that.”
“‘What style? You’re twelve.’”
“‘First off, I have a style, and it screams my brother’s brand new Camaro. And secondly, if I run into anyone from school and they see me in the van, it’ll be talked about for ages. My friends will disown me. No one will ever want to talk to me again. I’ll go into high school known as the girl whose Mom drives a tie-dyed van.’”
“When I threw my arms up over my head and looked at him with a why-isn’t-this-obvious-to-you-look, he finally agreed. ‘Okay, I see your point.’”
The corners of my lips pull up as I sit here completely enraptured in Bailey memories of her brother.
“Finally, we left. Trent and I were in the car, jamming out to Green Day. We were stopped at a red light. He drummed his hands against the steering wheel like a drummer, banging his head back and forth, while I played the air guitar. The whole time we were laughing hysterically,” she says with a wistful smile. “He had just pressed on the gas when, all of a sudden, my body was thrown into the passenger door, and my head slammed against the window. I screamed. ‘Trent! Trent! Help me!’”
“‘Hold on Bailey! Hold on!’ He screamed. The sounds of glass shattering blended with our screams. I don’t know how long we slid across the street before the car rolled and tumbled down an embankment into a shallow creek. We never even saw it coming,” she whispers.
I scoot over next to Bailey and wrap my arms around her. Her fragile frame shudders underneath my hold as she cries. “When I realized it was finally over, we were both hanging upside down. Our seat belts were the only things that held us in place. My whole body ached, throbbed, and screamed in pain, but it all seemed to vanish when I looked over and saw my brother. Blood trailed down his face and dripped onto the roof of the car. His eyes were closed, and I didn’t know what to think. I sat there, frozen in shock and horror. I had no clue what to do. Finally, I whispered his name. ‘Trent? Trent? Trent, wake up.’ He didn’t move, so I said it again louder a second time. When I saw his eyes barely open, I started crying, thankful he was finally coming around. He looked me in the eyes and began to cough. Dark red blood spewed out of his mouth as his hand found mine, and he squeezed it. When he spoke in between coughs, all he said was, ‘I’m so sorry, Bailey. I love you
.’ Then his eyes fluttered closed and I knew. I knew he was gone. It was like my whole life stopped. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything for him. I screamed at the tops of my lungs and yanked on seat belt as I tried to get free, but it wouldn’t give. My hands balled into fists as I beat on the roof of the car. I wanted to get someone’s attention, anyone’s attention, so they could help save my brother. I don’t know how long I hung there beating on the car and screaming for help. I’m told that I passed out from so much blood rushing to my head. I woke to the sounds of grinding, and something cutting through metal. And just like that, the gut wrenching screams started all over again. I screamed for anyone and everyone to help Trent.”
Tears flow down my face like a raging river, as I sit here wishing that I could absorb this girl’s pain. I wish that I could take it all away from her, and give her brother back to her. With her head resting on my shoulder, her audible sobs tear at my heart. I keep quiet and just let her cry. Cry for the brother she lost. Cry for the pain that suffocates her. Cry for the mere fact that she knows she will never get him back. She will now have to live the rest of her life with only the memories of Trent ingrained into her heart and soul. But we all know, as time goes on, even those memories fade.
Long minutes pass before she continues. “You know, sometimes, I can still feel his arm across my chest using it as a shield to keep me from flying out the window. He protected me. Trent made sure I was the one who was safe. But all I can think about is how I couldn’t protect him. I couldn’t keep him safe,” she chokes out, her voice raw and thick with emotion. And with that last statement, my heart crumbles for this little girl even more and what she had to witness and the pain she endures every day because of it.
Throughout the rest of the week, Bailey seemed to open up more and more. She still had her moments, but when she left last night, I caught her giving a John a hug, and she actually smiled at me when she said she’d see me on Monday. As far as Wes and I were concerned, we still tried to sneak in time for ourselves. Innocent touches and stolen kisses passed between us, but nothing like the heated inferno we endured in the tree house or the barn or the truck. When I would pass by him, I would let my fingers gently graze his lower back, the tips of his fingers, or his arm. There was one moment when I was putting a bridle away, and he snuck up behind me and began tenderly kissing my neck. No words needed to be said between the two of us. Our actions and eyes said it all. A couple of times, I thought Mrs. Sandy had caught us. One of those times had been in the laundry room. I actually needed to do laundry. But when Wes came in behind me and locked the door, my plans were thwarted. Just as he was about to sneak out, his mom came around the corner and asked what he was doing. I had to cover my mouth with both hands to stifle my laughter. His answer was ridiculous as he told her he was putting a load of clothes in the wash. The thought alone was absurd, because when he’s home, his mom does his laundry. Mrs. Sandy told me herself. It wasn’t because he wanted her to, but because it was the only thing that he would let her do for him besides feeding him.
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