The horse angled to the side, just enough for me to see its tail flick behind it and notice it was a male. He kicked his back feet up in the air and turned to face the fence again. A white star stood out in the center of his forehead.
I was so absorbed in watching, I didn’t quite notice what he was about to do until he came sailing over the fence in a beautiful jump, the kind that would’ve gotten him a ribbon in a show. Except we weren’t in a show, and he’d just jumped out of the pasture. The horse came running straight for me, skidding to a stop before snorting and pawing at the ground.
Just as I was about to reach out, he spun around and dashed off again, kicking dirt in my face.
“Mischief!” a voice called.
Sputtering, I dragged my sleeve across my face. Looking ahead, I saw a man in the distance. A loud whistle followed his call. I wondered if that was Jackson Stone. I wasn’t close enough to see from here. Whoever it was, he walked with an easy strength and grace along the fence line.
Taking a deep breath, I glanced around. I’d left before dawn this morning. A few hours of driving got me here just as the sun was rising behind the mountains. The famous blue haze over the Blue Ridge Mountains was shot through with gold from the sun’s early rays.
My gaze made its way back to the horse I presumed to be Mischief. He slowed to a trot as the man approached him and then came to a stop, docilely lowering his head as the man slipped a halter on him. I watched as they turned toward me again. It was a minute or so before they reached me, but I recognized Jackson once he was close enough.
I once had a bit of a crush on Jackson, years back. With his shaggy brown curls and his piercing blue eyes, it was fair to say I was not the only girl who had a crush on him. I didn’t think it was quite possible, but when he stopped in front of me, he was somehow more handsome than he had been before.
He wore scuffed leather boots with jeans, and a black T-shirt that didn’t do much of anything to obscure the fact that he had a body to die for, all muscle and hard planes.
Stopping in front of me, his mouth curled into a slow smile. “How’s it going, Shay?”
“Aside from getting dirt kicked in my face, I’m fine,” I said with a laugh.
Jackson’s smile turned sheepish with a shrug. “Sorry ’bout that. Mischief lives up to his name.” He glanced to the horse in question, giving him an affectionate rub under his chin. “Mischief, this is Shay, and she’s a friend. So, be nice. He doesn’t listen too well,” he added with a glance to me.
As if he understood, and to prove Jackson wrong, Mischief lifted his nose, gently nudging my shoulder with it. Despite teasing, I didn’t really care about getting dirt kicked in my face. Dirt was the least of my worries. I lifted a hand and scratched between Mischief’s ears, rewarded when he lowered his head and rubbed against my shoulder again.
When I looked back to Jackson, his blue gaze had darkened. A prickle ran up my spine, and I wondered if coming here was the smartest move. Problem was, it was my only move. I didn’t have any other good options.
I forced a smile and replied, “Well, he listens to you.”
A grin stretched across Jackson’s face, and my belly executed a little flip. Oh my.
“He listens when he wants and that’s about it. Let me get him back in the pasture, and I’ll take you inside.”
I watched as Jackson strolled across the parking area toward the fence Mischief had just cleared in an easy jump, as if it was nothing more than a minor nuisance. Opening the gate, Jackson slipped his halter off and patted him on the rump as Mischief flicked his tail before trotting off to join a cluster of horses in the far corner of the pasture.
“Need help carrying anything inside?” Jackson asked, as he stopped beside me.
His eyes traveled to my beat-up little hatchback. If he had an opinion about it, he stayed quiet. Once upon a time—which felt like forever ago at this point—I had a pretty good life.
I certainly had a car in better shape, and enough money to get by. Now, I didn’t want to tell anyone how much I needed this place to stay right now. I had maybe fifty bucks left in my bank account. My little car was one of the few things that had seen me through both good and bad and was still chugging along, albeit a little banged up.
I watched Jackson’s gaze coast over my car, hoping he didn’t wonder about the dent just underneath the window in the driver’s side door. A fist had left that behind. I didn’t have the money to fix it and had learned insurance didn’t cover people punching your car.
“Shay?” Jackson asked, his voice nudging me out of this ditch on memory lane, where I tended to get trapped.
“Oh right. I just have two bags,” I replied quickly, finally springing into motion and striding over to my car.
Jackson insisted on carrying one of the bags, his fingers brushing mine and sending a hot little zing up my arm. I hadn’t seen Jackson in five long years, but I’d never forgotten how handsome he was. Dear God, the man was swoon-worthy and then some. Yet, I didn’t recall reacting this way to him before, even if I’d crushed on him a little when I was younger and shared a single, wild kiss one night.
That zing startled me. I had written off desire, figuring my life would be better off without it. I also figured I was pretty much ruined for it. That’s what a few years of bad sex tangled up with fear could do. It made me question everything about desire and my own judgment.
As I looked ahead to the farmhouse, I reminded myself, rather sternly, I needed this to work out. I needed a place to regroup, and this was it. Even thinking about the sudden, confusing attraction to my brother’s best friend was a bad idea.
Jackson
Shay had a mere two bags with her. “I can get one,” she said, her tone a little testy when I moved to take both bags. Shay had always liked to do things for herself, so I let it go and turned with the one I already had in hand.
Moments later, we were inside the house. I led her through the sprawling farmhouse kitchen, down the hall, and up the stairs, going straight to the bedroom Ash had determined would be Shay’s.
After our father passed away a few years ago, my sister and I inherited the family farm. Years back, it had been a working farm for generations of our family. In the last decade or so before our father passed away, he had wound down the farming part of it, and dedicated his time to his horses and creating an animal rescue sanctuary. Before our mother died, he promised her someday he’d make the farm into a rescue.
Our father’s death brought me home. In addition to the rescue program, we ran a small veterinary clinic, seeing as I had my license, but I hadn’t put it to much use while I’d been overseas in the military. We’d also renovated two of the massive old barns into a high-end adventure lodge. We hosted a variety of guests throughout the year.
Ash was only here occasionally of late and was out of town now. She was one hundred percent on board with having Shay come stay here, so she made all the decisions about which room and so on.
Stopping by the door to the guestroom in question, I glanced back to Shay. “Right in here,” I said, pausing once I stepped inside and set her bag on the floor in front of the dresser.
When I looked over at Shay again, my breath was nearly knocked out of me. The early morning sunlight hadn’t done her justice. If I thought she was beautiful before, she was arresting now. Her dark blonde hair fell loosely around her shoulders. Her green eyes held mine as she looked at me, a hint of defiance entering her gaze.