Pike ambled down the steps and over to the line of horses, stopping near a mare with white socks and a shiny black tail he didn’t recognize. But that didn’t mean much. He’d lost track of how many horses called Gram’s barn home a long time ago. He wasn’t a part of this town anymore and usually that was just fine with him. He wasn’t the type who got homesick.
Or at least he hadn’t been until Monday night, when he’d lain awake wondering how different his life would have been if he and Tulsi had stayed together. He’d managed to keep his mind off depressing shit yesterday by helping Sawyer’s crew lay new floorboards in the ghost town schoolhouse, but last night had been a repeat of the night before. Every time he closed his eyes, Tulsi’s face floated in the darkness behind them. Every time he fell asleep, dreams of that happy life they’d never had tortured him awake again.
He didn't want dreams of Tulsi: he wanted the woman herself. At the very least, he wanted her forgiveness, but he had no idea how to go about apologizing for all the stupid things he’d done.
“What do you think, pretty girl?” Pike held his knuckles up for the mare to sniff. “Think I can convince her not to hate me?”
The animal blew out a long breath, setting its lips to flapping.
“Well, what do you know?” Pike asked, smiling as he stroked the animal’s neck. “You’re just a horse.”
“I’d be careful if I were you,” came a sweet drawl from behind him. “She bites when she’s impatient to get going, so watch your fingers.”
Tulsi. Again. He would call it coincidence that she’d appeared right when he was thinking of her, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about her for the past two days. He turned to see her stepping off the porch, a glass of tea in hand. She was dressed in faded blue jeans, a light pink tank top, and a tan cowgirl hat that had seen better days, but she still took Pike’s breath away.
“Hey you,” he said softly.
“Hey yourself,” she said, wiping one hand on her worn jeans. She looked exactly the way she had when she was eighteen and used to meet him in her father’s back pasture for a ride after school. Pike’s chest tightened as he remembered the way she would run to him and throw her arms around his neck, hugging him so tight there was no doubt in his mind that she was thrilled to see him.
Now, she stood with her arms crossed and her tea clutched to her chest, meeting his eyes for only a fraction of a second before her gaze fell to the ground and an awkward silence swelled between them. Pike wanted to say something to ease the tension, but before he could say a word, Ugly Ross and his date roared up the dirt road in Ross’s ancient bug, kicking up dust, which the hot summer wind whipped across the yard.
By the time the dust had cleared, Tulsi was gone.
Pike didn’t see her again until the group of twenty friends and family members were mounted and starting down the trail behind his grandmother’s house. He was near the front of the group, behind Sawyer and Mia; Tulsi was at the very back, trailing behind with Ross’s date, a girl with jet black hair and arm sleeve tattoos who looked like she’d be more comfortable on a skateboard than a horse. Tulsi had always had a soft spot for newbies—going out of her way to make sure they had a great first experience because she wanted everyone to love horses as much as she did—but Pike knew there was more to it this time.
She was avoiding him. It was what he’d expected, but it still made him feel like shit. She was right there, the woman he was still in love with after seven years apart, the woman he’d probably love until the day they put him in the ground, but she might as well be in another time zone. She didn’t want anything to do with him, and that near-kiss Monday afternoon was probably the last time he’d ever touch her.
The knowledge made him ache all over and by the time they reached the end of the trail, where a cool stream ran through a grove of shade trees at the back of Gram’s acreage, his knee felt like it was catching fire. His doctor has said he was clear to ride as long as he wasn’t in pain. The first two and a half miles had been okay, but as he slid to the ground to water his horse by the stream, his bum leg threatened to buckle. He clung to the saddle for a long beat, grimacing as hot licks of pain shot through his connective tissue.
“You okay?” Mia asked, frowning at him over her horse’s back.
“Fine,” Pike forced out through gritted teeth. He wasn’t going to ruin Mia’s shower by making her worry about him. He’d stick a cold can of soda on his knee during lunch and walk the horse back to Gram’s if he wasn’t feeling better come time to head to the farmhouse.
“Here, let me tie him up for you.” Sawyer appeared beside him and took the reins.
The other man was the same height as Pike but built like a brick shithouse, with massive shoulders and bulky muscles Pike had only seen on pro football players. Sawyer didn’t look like the kind of man who was big on empathy, but he always seemed to have his finger on the pulse of how other people were feeling, especially his bride-to-be.
“I can get you an ice pack if you need it,” Sawyer said too softly for Mia to hear. “I packed a few in the cooler just in case.”
“Thanks, man, that would be great,” Pike said, clapping him on the back. “I should have thought of that. I’m not very good at being a gimp.”
Sawyer smiled. “No worries. Between you, me, and Tulsi I figured one of us would need to ice something. I threw my shoulder out a few weeks ago putting up the new framing for the jailhouse, and Tulsi’s hip has been acting up since she got thrown by that last horse she broke for her dad.”
Pike’s eyes shifted to where Tulsi was helping his grandmother spread white tablecloths, from the saddlebags, on the two long picnic tables set up by the stream, gut clenching at the thought of her being thrown. “She’s breaking horses now? That was always her dad’s thing.”
“His arthritis got too bad a few years ago. Now Tulsi’s handling that side of the business.” Sawyer shook his head as he followed Pike’s gaze across the shaded meadow. “It’s hard to believe a person that small can boss around a thousand pounds of horse, isn’t it?”
“She’s tougher than she looks,” Pike said, forcing his eyes away from Tulsi before he gave himself away. “So did y’all finish up the schoolhouse this morning?”
Sawyer sighed and rolled his eyes. “We did, but we’re still a week and a half behind schedule. If we have any bad weather this winter, no way in hell we’re making the June opening. And I’m still waiting on bricks for the jailhouse that might not be delivered until November.”
Pike followed Sawyer to an uprooted tree where several of the other riders had tied their horses. He did his best to pay attention to his future brother-in-law’s talk of historical bricks and specialized mason work, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Tulsi flying off her horse and slamming into the ground. She could have done a lot worse than a bruised hip. She could have broken her damned neck.
The thought plagued him throughout the leisurely lunch of sandwiches, chips, and three different kinds of fruit salad. By the time Gram handed out her scavenger hunt sheets and everyone scattered into the trees to search for the items on the list, Pike knew he had to say something. He couldn’t leave Lonesome Point without speaking his mind about how crazy it was for Tulsi to risk her life for a few hundred bucks a month.
So when he saw her head upstream along the rocky creek bed with her scavenger hunt sheet, he gave her a few minutes’ head start before following after her. The stones beside the bank were smooth and slick and made for slow going. Pike nearly slipped twice before he caught up to Tulsi just as she tossed her hat and boots onto the bank and waded barefoot into the stream. He watched as she cupped the clear water in her hands and splashed it onto her face and neck before standing and lifting her hair as the water streamed down her throat.
Pike’s mouth went dry and his blood pumped faster, his body responding to the sensuality of the moment even before Tulsi lifted her face to the sunlight filtering through the trees and let out a sigh so sexy he felt it like a physical caress. That sigh affected him the way Tulsi’s touch always had. He could still remember the first time she’d stripped off his shirt while they were kissing, the way she’d explored his bare skin, her fingertips whispering over every dip and hollow, branding him with her touch before she pressed a kiss to the center of his chest and pronounced him the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.