“Nothing. You always said if you didn’t do something with your art degree, you’d work with horses.”
I stared down at the reins in my hand and let my eyes move to the neck of the horse. I wasn’t sure how long I stared down at Whiskey before I said, “I can see myself doing that now.”
“Doing what?” he asked.
“Working with horses somehow. Maybe start a boarding barn. I’d have to buy a good-sized lot for it, though. At least twenty acres, if not more.”
All he did was nod and then focused straight ahead.
The sound of a creek slowly began to emerge, and I could tell Whiskey knew exactly where it was coming from. He picked up his pace, and I giggled.
“I think he knows where the water is.”
Nolan let out a quick laugh. “I know he knows where it’s at. You could let the reins drop and he’d take you there.”
Coming to a stop, Nolan got off his horse, tossed the reins over the saddle, and then walked up to me. “Need help getting down?”
“Nope, I’ve got it.”
Doing the same with my horse as he did with his, I drew in a deep, cleansing breath. “It’s so clean out here. Nothing like how Paris was.”
“It’s much quieter here too.”
“It is,” I said with a lightness in my voice I hadn’t heard in a very long time. I felt at peace out here, and I wasn’t sure if it was simply from being in the country, or if it had everything to do with being with Nolan.
“Are the horses okay?” I asked, glancing back over my shoulder to see them both making their way to the small creek.
“Yeah, they’re fine.”
I followed Nolan as we walked along the creek for a bit before coming to a stop at a small bridge that crossed over to the other side.
“It’s still here,” he mused.
“Were you expecting it not to be?”
He shrugged. “Every heavy rain when it floods, I always expect it to be gone. But it never gets washed away when the creek floods. It’s like there’s some sort of protective shrine around it.” He peeked over at me. “As stupid as that sounds.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that sounds stupid at all. It looks old, so it’s most definitely weathered some storms in its lifetime.”
Something moved over Nolan’s face, and I felt a sudden rush of emotion. He seemed sad, and I realized I didn’t like knowing he wasn’t happy. I wanted to do something to make him smile. To take his hurt away. This place was special to him, yet at the same time something about it made him sad.
“My granddaddy built this bridge. He had a little hut-type place he had built on the other side of the creek. He brought my grandmother here when they were dating and asked her to marry him right on that bridge.” His voice seemed to trail away, as if lost in the moment when his granddaddy told him the story.
My chest squeezed with a strange sensation. “How romantic.”
Nolan laughed. “My dad thought so too. He asked my mother to marry him on this bridge as well.”
Then, he looked directly at me and waited. What he was waiting for, I had no idea. I looked from him, to the bridge, and back to him. “That’s so incredibly sweet.”
A look of utter disappointment came and went so fast, I almost missed it.
“Anyway, I haven’t been back to the ranch since baby Nolan was born,” he said, “and the last time I was here, some kids had been trespassing and drinking beer in the gazebo.”
I smiled and whispered, “I love gazebos.”
“Yes, I know,” Nolan said. I was positive he wasn’t aware he’d said it out loud. “Let me walk over the bridge first to make sure it’s sturdy, then you can walk over.”
“Okay,” I replied as I watched him carefully walk over the old wooden bridge. “Your granddaddy must have built it pretty strong to last this long!”
Nolan didn’t say anything as he made it to the other side and then turned around. “Okay, come on over.”
I carefully stepped onto the wooden bride and walked across it. When I touched the grass on the other side, I let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding in.
“You sure didn’t look very confident in Granddad’s skills as you were walking over it,” Nolan said with a crooked smile.
My hand came up to cover my mouth. “Truthfully, I wasn’t!”
Nolan reached for my hand and curled his fingers through mine. The way it made my body instantly warm felt so good. It had been a long time since I felt so…content. Happy. Safe. Those were only a few of the words to describe how I felt in that moment.
We walked down a path. Judging from the overgrowth, it was obvious Nolan hadn’t been here in some time.
“Why have you been gone for so long?” I asked.
Nolan looked lost in his own thoughts for a moment before he simply said, “Hiding from bad memories.”
I slowly nodded. “I know how that is.”
He stopped walking and faced me. “What do you mean?”
With a half shrug, I looked up into those stunningly blue eyes. They reminded me of the countless days I walked along the beach and stared out at the Mediterranean Sea when I would go off for a few days of vacation. I never thought one could get lost in another person’s eyes until I looked into Nolan’s. I found myself struggling to even form words or remember what I was about to say.
“The whole reason I stayed away from Texas as long as I did was because I knew something bad had happened to me. It was the only reason I could think of for why my parents were so vague. I mean, I could’ve found out what truly happened to me if I wanted to.”
A look of horror moved over his face.
“The doctors told me my memory was blocking out the accident. That I couldn’t remember it for a reason. An internal safety mechanism for my brain, sort of. That’s when I knew I had to leave. I could see the pain in my mother and father’s eyes and, truth be told, I was a coward.”
His eyes widened. “A coward?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “Because I didn’t want to know. Honestly, I’m still very much afraid that it will all come back. And if it does, I somehow feel like my life will be forever changed.” As I stared at him, I suddenly realized that Nolan had played a part in all of this. Or, maybe deep down I already knew. I was too afraid to question how—not when—I felt so alive for the first time in years.
Coward indeed.
Nolan dropped my hand and started to walk away. He removed his cap and raked his fingers through his hair, then put the cap back on with a deep sigh. He turned and looked at me. The pain on his face was almost unbearable. And when he opened his mouth, I knew he was going to tell me everything.
“Don’t…” I quickly said. I could see it written all over his face. Maybe I had it seen yesterday too, when he turned and looked at me in Saryn and Truitt’s kitchen.
He shook his head as his lips pressed tightly together and his face constricted in a pained expression.
“Don’t tell me what you were about to tell me, Nolan. I’m so blissfully happy right now, please don’t ruin it. Being here with you and experiencing this feeling deep inside of me that screams that you and I were so much more…I don’t know how, and I don’t want to remember how. At least not right now. Please, keep those things to yourself.”