He sounded genuine. At least, he didn’t want to see her punished by his family. It was something. “Me too.”
The horses eased down a small hill into the woods. Thick trees blocked the sun. Sticks and twigs snapped under the horses’ feet. A sense of peace flowed through her, a balance of nature and quiet, and being with the two people she loved most in life.
“Everyone doing okay back there?” Jim called out.
“We’re good,” Tristan said.
“Excellent. We’re heading up this hill to the clearing. Just follow me.”
The other horses pulled ahead, but Bam Bam paused in front of a large branch and shot her a look. “Come on,” she urged him. “Just walk over. It’s not big.”
He snorted. Ducked his head and began eating more leaves. Frustration nipped at her nerves. “Bam Bam, go!” She kicked and pulled the reins, but he ignored her. Suddenly he lifted his head and stood stock-still. A terrible smell hit her nostrils. “Ugh, yuck.” The sound of poop hitting the ground made her want to gag. So did the scent. “You’re eating too many leaves, dude. Let’s go.”
His stomach emptied, he began to go forward, then took a sharp right.
“No, not that way—this way.” She tugged, but he was heading directly past a large pricker bush. Tons of deadly thorns stuck out at wicked angles. “Left! Go left, Bam Bam—ow!”
Her left side got dragged past the bush, the needles poking into her clothes with wicked darts of pain. The horse gave her a sideways look and opened his mouth to gnaw on his bit. Was he laughing at her?
Tristan suddenly appeared before her, looking like a god on the Black Stallion. “You okay?”
“No! He pooped because he keeps eating leaves, and he dragged me into a pricker bush. He’s mean.”
His lips twitched in amusement. “He’s just looking for direction. Come on, Bam Bam. Follow me.” He whistled, leading his horse a few paces forward, and Bam Bam began walking again, closing the gap between them. “See? Just keep urging him ahead with kicks.”
Oh yeah, he was playing her for a fool. She wasn’t stupid. This horse didn’t like her. “Is Becca doing well?” she asked.
“She’s doing great. Don’t you think this would be fun to do on a regular basis? Fresh air, family time, and Becca learns about horses.”
Ugh. No way. “Great,” she forced herself to utter. “Fun things are supposed to be stressful.”
“What do you mean? Don’t you remember the time you came with us camping?”
The memory hit full force. “Oh, my God, I’d forgotten about that debacle! Your father had some crazy idea about going river rafting on the Esopus and decided camping out would be fun.”
Tristan shook his head. The sun bathed him in a gorgeous light, giving him an almost ethereal halo. “He thought it would be easy but had no clue what to do. Dalton fell off the raft and almost floated away.”
“Yes! And your mom freaked out and dove in after him, almost crashing on the rocks. I was so scared I just hung on to the raft and prayed to survive.”
“Then the tent collapsed in the middle of the night during the thunderstorm.”
“And we were covered in mud and freezing cold,” she added.
“Cal and I had a big fight over who got the last hot dog.”
“We had to walk almost a mile in the pitch-dark to get to the bathrooms, and your mom and I were freaking out about bears.”
“And Dad lost one of his shoes and declared we were all going home the very next morning,” Tristan finished, his golden eyes full of mirth.
She fought past the giggles. “No one talked to each other for the rest of the day, and we were hungry and tired and wet and miserable. And I swear, I think it was a raccoon that got Christian’s shoe. Remember how he had to drive barefoot?”
Tristan laughed with her. “See, not every family outing is a good thing. Worst vacation ever.”
Another memory flickered and teased her vision. “You kept me safe,” she said quietly. “Do you remember?”
“What are you talking about?”
“In the raft. After Dalton went over the side and your mom dove in after him. I was scared and clinging to the raft, and you came right over. Wrapped your arms around me and told me you wouldn’t let me fall off.”
God, it was all coming back to her. The feeling of being safe with him, knowing he’d never let anything happen. His shoulders stiffened, and his voice sounded strangled when he finally spoke. “I don’t remember.”
“I do. Your dad and Cal were trying to help Diane, so I was left alone. You took care of me.” The words stirred the air, wrapping around them like the breeze that sighed through the trees. Becca’s chatter came from far up ahead. “Did you always feel like I was a responsibility to you, Tristan?”
He stopped the horse. Turned around. She sucked in her breath.
His eyes glittered with a fierce golden light, raw with emotion. “You were never a responsibility to me. You were a fucking gift. Never forget that.”
And in that moment, she knew she’d do anything to win him back.
She loved Tristan Pierce with her heart and soul. Somehow she needed to believe he felt the same way. She had to fight to make sure they got their second chance, even if it meant pushing past uncomfortable boundaries and forcing him to take a risk.
“Mama? Daddy? Catch up!”
Turning back around, Tristan tapped his horse and closed the distance. “Come on, Bam Bam,” she sighed. “Let’s catch up.” She gave him a kick.
Nothing.
He kept his bored, slow pace, and if she tried to kick, he got slower. The ride continued to get worse. Every time Tristan got ahead, Bam Bam would eat leaves, push her into trees, and jerk his head when she tried to tighten the reins.
“You’re a big bully,” she hissed against his ear. “I’m not giving you an apple unless you treat me nice.”
He ducked his head low as if to jolt her off, and she let out a half shriek, clinging to his mane. Just as quickly, he rose back up and was standing with perfect innocence once Tristan turned around.
“Syd, you okay?”
“He’s the devil,” she accused. “He tried to knock me off!”
“I have an idea. Why don’t you get ahead of me in line? Then I can help from the back.”