“Go under and listen,” he said. “It sounds like roaring.”
I tread water slowly toward them. “Okay.” Dunking my head I held my breath and listened. The noise was like a fire burning or a microphone hum. Popping back up, I nodded fast as I pushed my hair out of my face. “It does!”
Elaine bounced on his back. “Did you ever do that game where you yell a word underwater and the other person tries to guess what it is?”
“When I was like nine,” Patrick said.
She pushed his shoulder. “Do it!”
“See what I have to put up with?” But his hazel eyes sparkled. They both went under for a few seconds, and I heard the muffled echo of a shout.
“Bubblegum!” Patrick said, when they came up blowing air and splashing.
“No!” She splashed him.
He splashed back. Then she splashed me. “Hey!”
I shot a stream of water right at her face, and for the next several minutes we engaged in a vigorous battle that sent water flying everywhere and almost ended in me drowning laughing.
The wind howled, and I couldn’t help looking up again at the arc of yellow clouds over the horizon. I wasn’t sure how long we’d been out here, but I sort of wanted to head back.
* * *
Stuart
Patrick and the girls rode out like they’d just robbed a train and the sheriff was on their tails. My lips tightened as I watched the horses run. Had he even checked if they were experienced riders? Did they know how to stop without falling off? How to handle a sudden break? Cheyenne didn’t act like herself when the weather changed, and he’d put Mariska on her. Tightness spread across my chest with anger close behind. I should have gone with them.
Mariska had followed me around the barn this morning like some kind of cute little kid eager to learn. Only she wasn’t a kid. She was a gorgeous, sexy young woman, and it had taken all my strength not to pull her to me and kiss the shit out of her beautiful mouth in the tack room. Her eyes danced, and everything about her was light and happy, talking to me about the horses, asking about Bill, bringing me breakfast. When Freckles reared back at her, my stomach flew to my fucking throat. I tried to cover, but I was as startled as she was. Then I was confused.
My need to protect her was overwhelming. I’d never felt anything like it. S
he was sunshine and warmth and fire under my skin. Leaning against the rails of the paddock, I tried to figure out what the fuck was happening to me.
Long nights spent talking to Derek pressed on my mind. He’d told me about Allison and how any time she took a road-trip, he was plagued with images of how she might be killed on the highway. I was fucking turning into that guy.
My little brother’s careless attitude had me ready to punch him in the face, and I’d done a damn good job keeping my cool with him at the house. No confrontations, moving past our differences, and now he was fucking with Mariska’s safety. It was possible I might have to kick his ass after all.
What. The. Fuck?! I had to grab the reins on this shit. I was acting like a fucking husband. The images I’d had in Bayville of holding her, waking up with her in my bed, watching her body change as she carried my babies floated around the periphery of my mind. In Bayville I’d been sick with withdrawals. Now I was well, my appetite was back, and I was hungry. My desire for her was forceful and demanding. It was different than I’d ever felt for a woman.
The colt made a little bray and trotted around his small yard. He was Cheyenne’s foal, and apparently he’d inherited her dislike of strange weather. Bill asked me to help break him. I needed to focus on that job and tone down the irrational lust. I was just entering when the sound of hoof beats echoed in the barn. Turning to check it out, my stomach revolted when I saw Cheyenne standing at her stall, stamping her hooves and wanting to be let in. The whites of her eyes shone as she lolled her head around. Where was Mariska?
I was in the tack room in under a second. Bridle over my shoulder, I snatched a blanket and saddle off the rack and headed to Ranger’s stall. Before I left, I opened Cheyenne’s door and let her in then my horse and I were out the barn faster than the beating wind.
My stomach hurt, and my vision tunneled. I couldn’t seem to steady my breathing. All I could picture was her thrown, hurt, she could have a broken bone. If she fell wrong... She could have a broken neck. Fuck! God dammit, Patrick! Fighting back the red in my eyes and the panic in my brain, I tried to remember what my brother had said. They were headed to the lake. I gave Ranger a nudge, and he ran faster. I had to get to her. She had to be all right.
* * *
Mariska
Our splashing had quieted down, Elaine drifted back to hanging on Patrick’s shoulder. I trailed a reed along the dark surface, watching the tension break and swirl when Patrick grinned. “Well, look who’s here.”
Spinning around, I quickly spotted Stuart riding up fast on Ranger. My stomach jumped, and I swam away from them, toward the pier. I held a post and watched as the elder Knight dismounted, his muscles flexed and for a moment, he stood, beside the saddle.
He seemed to be waiting for something, or maybe he was trying to calm down? He was breathing as hard as his poor horse. Finally, he wrapped the reins over a limb and started in our direction. I couldn’t help noticing his slight wince as he walked.
“Hey, bro, coming in for a swim?” Patrick called out.
“What the fuck, Patrick?” Stuart shouted. His eyes were furious, his lips tight. He looked at us, and I noticed his fists clench. “It’s dangerous to race in this wind. Someone could get hurt.”