14. Fable

Chapter 14

Fable

E veryone is busy the next day, so I get time to wander around and keep myself entertained. I decide the best thing I could do is go for a walk through the pastures, taking in the clean air and the sight of the mountains in the distance. Everything here is prettier, freer, and exactly what I needed.

" I knew you'd like it here ," Jinx muses beside me. " You must have been a cowgirl in a past life ."

"You should be here with me," I answer, glancing over at her.

" I am, Everhart ," she says. " I'm right here ."

"You know what I mean," I choke.

So many people tell you about the phantom limb sensation when you lose an actual limb. All the doctors and nurses warned me about phantom itches and pain in a leg that is no longer there. At the time, I'd barely digested their words. When the first phantom itch had happened, it drove me insane, and I understood.

So yes, everyone warned me about how bad the phantom itch would be, but not a single person warned me about my phantom friend. How when you lose someone so close to you, you still see them in everything you do. No one warned me about the pain that comes with every moment. If I smile, I'm reminded she's not here. If I'm sad, I'm reminded of the way she used to hug me. When I pick up something that reminds me of her, I'm reminded of the way she used to squeeze my hand three times to tell me she loved me, and how I haven't felt that since she died. Everything reminds me of her because she was my sister in all but blood.

So now I'm haunted by the loss of my limb and the loss of my best friend. Seems only fitting that my leg would start itching right about now. I thump the hard plastic and metal beneath my pant leg as if that'll make it go away. It never does.

At first, I'm so lost in my thoughts, the sound in the distance doesn't really register. I wander closer before I realize what it is I'm hearing, before it penetrates my sad musings. Singing. Someone is singing way out here in the pasture.

I follow the sound until a bunch of white boxes appear in the distance. In the middle of them, a man dressed all in white moves around, checking the boxes. Loud buzzing adds to his song as he sings to the bees. I don't recognize the song, but his voice is as smooth as the honey he tends to. He doesn't see me, that much I know, because his back is to me as he sings. He belts out the song as if he's in the car and no one can hear, though I suppose, he expects no one will hear out here. I don't know how far I've walked but I know I've been walking for hours, so long that my leg is aching and telling me I've exercised it too much. I may have a blister later.

Rhett and I haven't gotten much time together since the first day. Whatever it is that he does, he's often busy, but he doesn't ever hesitate to shoot a pickup line my way when he sees me at meals. Out here, when he thinks he's alone, he's a completely different person.

He dances around as he sings, putting on a show for his bees. They buzz around him comfortably, moving to and fro past me as I draw closer, doing whatever it is that bees do. I continue to close the distance, until I'm right outside the boxes. I don't want to get too close in case they think I'm a threat, so I stay back by his side-by-side and lean against it to watch him. He goes on for long minutes, finishing one song and switching to another. It's only when he spins like a ballerina that he stumbles to a stop, his voice going from the song to a little shriek before he realizes who I am.

"Where the hell did you come from?" he asks, staring at me with wide eyes. "And how long have you been there? Christ, you about gave me a heart attack, woman!"

The outfit he wears is something I never would have expected of him despite knowing it's the beekeeper outfit always used in movies. Dressed in all white, the only source of color on him right now is where I can see his face through the netting of his hat.

"I was walking," I offer. "I heard you singing and came to investigate."

He looks into the distance where I came from. "Jesus, Fable. We're a mile out from the house. You walked all the way out here?"

"We are?" I blink. "I. . . didn't realize. I was just walking."

He shakes his head. "I get it. I like walks as much as the next man, but you don't have to walk back at least. You can ride with me."

"I don't want to interrupt your work?—"

"Nonsense, I'm done anyways," he argues. He comes from the center of the bees and pulls off his hat. Before I know what he's doing, he drops the hat and unzips his white jumpsuit down to his waist. He's not wearing a shirt underneath, and I watch as he pulls his arms out before tying it around it waist, leaving his upper half bare. His copper hair gently smatters across his chest, his freckles marking his skin across his built shoulders. "Unless you'd like to stay out here and have your wicked way with me," he says when I look too long. "I'm okay with that, too." He wiggles his eyebrows for good measure.

"Sorry," I flush, jerking my eyes back up to his.

"I'm not," he teases. "You're welcome to look as long as you'd like. Want me to take the rest off?" he asks, reaching for his waistband.

"No!" I say the same time as Jinx' voice echoes " Yes! " in my mind. "You can stay dressed."

"Party pooper," he teases, but I can tell he's just messing with me. Part of me wonders what he'd do if I actually took him up on that offer. Would he pause and do as he promised? Or would he laugh and tell me I'm ridiculous? Only one way to know.

"You have a lot to think about?" he asks.

"What?" I ask, frowning.

"I walk when I have a lot to think about. Figured you might do the same."

His eyes are the prettiest shade of cerulean, bright and vibrant against his copper hair. Rhett was made for a runway. Instead, he's out here on Circle Bee Ranch, tending to his bees.

"I can't walk like this back home, so I was just enjoying the scenery," I answer. "It's mostly city or everglades in Florida. I have to worry about gators and snakes, and it's not nearly as pleasant and safe as this."

"Out here we have bears," he says, his expression suddenly serious, and my eyes widen. "And mountain lions. Wolves, too. Make sure you don't go walking after dark."

"Bears? Wolves?" I repeat. "Mountain lions?"

"Never dawned on you, huh?" he says, laughing. "Don't worry. They're nocturnal so during the day, you shouldn't come across them as much. Most of them are more scared of you than you are of them. Except mountain lions. They'll fuck you up if you're not careful, ‘specially if they have a cub. Next time you go walkin', either bring one of us with you or a gun."

I hesitate. "I don't have a gun."

"I'll give you one to borrow if you need it," he nods. "Or, the better option, is you can just bring me with you and fuck me out in the pasture. Win, win."

I blink and can't help but smile despite the conversation. "I guess sleeping with the guests isn't against the rules, is it?"

"I told you the rules. That wasn't one of them," he grins. "Can't blame a man for shootin' his shot." He gestures to the passenger seat of the side-by-side. "Come on, Walky Walker. Let's get you back to the house. That limp won't get better if you don't take care of it."

My throat grows thick as I hop up into the passenger seat. Instead of moving around the driver's side, he leans over me, putting his face in mine. "What exactly happened? Sprained ankle?"

He leans in far too close, invading my bubble, and I can see the different specks of blue in his eyes that give it more depth. The way he looks at me makes me feel like he's inviting me to kiss him, but I just twist my fingers together. When his hand comes to rest on my thigh as he tucks me up better in the side-by-side, I nearly choke.

"Old injury," I finally say, not willing to tell him yet about my leg. Will it change his opinion of me? Will he stop flirting with me? I don't know if I'm ready for the feeling that'll come with that if that's the case.

"Huh," he says, nodding. "Well, Mel will probably get you some ice if you ask. The old man likes you." He grins and squeezes my thigh before letting go and running around to the driver's side. "It's bumpy out here. Make sure to hold on."

As he eases back in the direction of the house, he glances over at me. "Are you interested in meeting my bees next time?"

"Absolutely," I say enthusiastically. I've been waiting for him to ask. I want to learn everything I can.

He nods. "Not today, but here in a few days, it'll be time to harvest some of the honey. I'll come get you and bring you with me." His eyes meet mine. "Maybe I'll let you lick some of it off me."

When he winks, I can't stop the laugh that trickles out of. I shake my head and settle in for the slow ride back to the house. It feels like Rhett is driving slower than he normally would for my benefit.

Because he wants to make it easier on me or because he wants to draw out our time together?

I don't know, but I want to.