Chapter 24

[Mavis]

“Horses?” I stare after the stable sign we passed as we pull down a gravel lane leading to a small house with a large barn nearby. The cowboy boots Clay asked me to wear along with telling me to bundle up for some time outdoors now makes sense.

The sky is slate gray and heavy with the promise of snow. The trees are bare of their leaves, prepared for winter which will be here soon enough. The second we stepped outside Clay’ s house, my nose was cold, but my hands are covered in beautiful, soft leather gloves with a thick, warm lining inside them. A surprising and unwarranted gift from Clay earlier today.

Clay chuckles. “Don’t sound so scared, butterfly.” He pauses, running his hand around the steering wheel of his truck. “Haven’t you ever been horseback riding?”

“No.” I choke, before reminding him of my motorcycle upbringing. “I grew up riding on two wheels not four legged creatures.”

“Gonna make you a country girl now,” he teases.

We park near the barn, where one of two panel doors is slightly open. As we exit Clay’s truck, the cool mountain air hits me. Anticipation crackles around me. Clay rounds the back of his truck with a bag hitched over his shoulder and takes my hand. Walking backward a few steps, he leads me toward the barn.

His eyes dance with excitement. “I swear you’ll love it.”

“Being a country girl or riding horses?” I tease.

“Both.” He winks before spinning around and walking beside me. When we reach the barn, he slides the door wider for our entrance and then pulls it closed behind him.

“Hey, Gilbert,” he calls out to a man roughly in his forties.

“Clay.” With a baseball cap on his head, Gilbert dips his chin at us while he strokes the flank of a large almond-colored horse. “Got this beauty ready for you.”

He steps away from the horse and approaches us, holding out a hand to shake Clay’s and be introduced to me.

“Mavis, this is Gilbert Shaw, horse breeder and boarder.” Clay nods at the stoic man. “He’s prepared Honey Rose for you today. I’ll be riding my bay, Terra.”

Clay runs his hand up my back before stepping aside to a stall and petting the nose of a horse who stuck its head through the grate as soon as it heard Clay’s voice.

“Hey, Terra, baby. It’s been too long.” Clay leans forward and kisses the white patch between her eyes before rubbing his hand back and forth over the spot.

“Give me a minute to get Terra saddled for you,” Gilbert says.

“I got it.” Clay leaves me standing in the stable while he momentarily disappears and returns with a huge leather seat. Gilbert opens the stall and leads the horse into the galley way. As for me, I just step out of the way, and watch as Clay coos at the horse, spreading a blanket over her back before lugging the saddle over her as well. She shifts and Clay softly murmurs to soothe her.

He’s a different version of himself. Calm as always but clearly focused on the living creature beside him. Wearing a thick, chocolate-brown jacket with a sherpa collar, and butt-hugging jeans, he’s the perfect image of a rugged outdoorsman. He’s wearing a Seed & Soil ball cap on his head, one that has seen better days but also looks sexy as hell on him. When he moves, his riding jacket shifts, giving me a better view of his backside covered in form-fitting Wranglers. Every time he adjusts something on the horse, his typically rough and deep voice softens while he speaks to such a large animal. His gloved hands smooth reverently over her shiny coat.

His good looks are personified by his gentle touch and tranquil voice. He’s a man who takes great pride in the creatures and people he cares about. Dutton and I are an example of that nurturing side to him as well.

He finally turns his attention back to me after tightening the harness on Terra. “Ready, butterfly?”

I blush, caught in my internal musings and blatant ogling of him. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I thought we’d be riding together.”

“Riding double,” Clay corrects. “And it isn’t recommended for long journeys. We aren’t going far but I still want to give you your own shot.” He turns toward his horse again, stroking the white patch one more time. “Plus, I’ve missed my girl.”

“I didn’t know you owned a horse.”

Clay turns back to me. “Rescued her from a farmer who wanted to get rid of her. I don’t ride her often enough but she’s getting older and does best with short trips. I have somewhere close by I want to take you.”

I chew my lower lip, uncertain about any of this, but Clay is too excited for us to share this experience for me to deny him.

He steps closer to me while holding Terra’s reins. “You’ve got this, butterfly.”

He cups my shoulder and leans in for a kiss that lasts a little longer than it probably should considering Gilbert is waiting on us. Then, Clay leads me to the side of Honey Rose, who has been led outside the barn by Gilbert. He explains where to put my foot and helps me hoist myself upward and straddle the broad back of the even-tempered beauty. If she feels my nerves, she doesn’t respond, standing still like she’s bored.

Clay mounts his horse, and walks up beside me, taking over the lesson in how to pull up on the reins. With a gentle nudge of my heels into Honey Rose’s side, she moves forward.

I yelp and Clay chuckles, encouraging us along.

Before I know it, we’re sauntering down another gravel path that narrows into two rutted tracks along the edge of deep woods. As Clay and I ride in silence for a while, the atmosphere calms me. Cool air. Gray clouds. Quiet. The scene is peaceful, comforting even.

As we move onward, we talk about random things. Clay offers stories about learning his love of horses from his mom. He explains how the old barn on Stone’s property once was filled with animals. When his mom died, his father got rid of them. Clay assumes the sight of them was too painful for his father.

“He must have loved her very much,” I say.

“Hard to remember sometimes.” He squints off into the distance. “My younger siblings don’t remember them as a couple. How they laughed. My dad always kissing her. He’d have given her the moon if she asked. I caught them dancing in the kitchen one night. Only the radio on and the lights down low. I’d try to pull up that memory whenever Dad went on a rampage, cursing her death, or his kids. Only Stone, Judd, and me seem to remember her. Remember them when things were better.”

His faraway look is haunted, and I don’t need to ask to know that things changed, perhaps too quickly to understand as a boy. But Clay was a reflective man and despite his struggles to forgive his father, he offers compassion to him.

“He loved her so much. Made me afraid to love for the longest time. Afraid of being so attached to someone I’d lose my mind if they were gone for good.”

My heart breaks for him. At the fear of love. The fear of losing it. If I’d been afraid, I would have never fallen for Wesley in the first place, something I wish I hadn’t done.

“I believe love isn’t something to be afraid of, though. Even if we only have it for a brief moment, that moment shines, and makes everything pale in comparison.”

Clay bitter chuckles. “I think that’s what happened to him. His world wasn’t as bright without her in it.”

“Too bad he didn’t cling to the memory then and see how all the rays of her brightness flowed into her children.” That’s how I look at Dutton. He’s an extension of Cecilia. He’s the lingering streams of light after her sun set.

Clay huffs. “Yeah, too bad.”

As I don’t want to turn our ride into a sad song, I tease him next. “So, when do I get to really open her up and ride this baby?” I lean forward like I’m a practiced jockey instead of a novice horseback rider.

My partner chuckles, deep and loud, letting the sad moment wash out of him. “I’m not certain you’re ready for such a ride. At least, not on a horse.”

My mouth falls open at the innuendo and Clay laughs harder.

“Come on, butterfly. Just a little bit farther.”

It is not long before a solitary stone structure comes into view, low and alone in the middle of an autumn meadow. As Clay leads us toward the place, I ask, “What’s this?”

“This is a place Stone and Knox rebuilt. When Knox first came home from the Navy, where he’d been a naval aviator, he had a lot on his mind. Stone found projects around the house and on our land to keep Knox’s hands busy, hoping to distract his head.” Clay nods at the lone building. “The back wall, made of field stones, was still intact, and Stone and Knox worked to rebuild the rest of what we assume was the original homestead on our property.” Clay softly smiles. “Ironic, that Stone, and Knox whose nickname from Halle is Brick, rebuilt the stone and brick structure.”

I chuckle at the connection as Clay halts his horse and slips from the saddle. He ties her up to an iron notch I hadn’t noticed in the side of the small house. Then, he comes to me, holding out his hands to help me off Honey Rose. When I slide off the side of her with Clay’s assistance, he spins me to kiss me hard and fast.

“Been wanting to do that since we started riding.”

I blink, staggering from the suddenness. He’d kissed me only half an hour ago. But I wasn’t complaining. The way Clay kissed me was like that sunshine feeling we discussed about love, because there was no doubt in my mind that I was brightly in love with Clay.

The thought should scare me. I know my track record—fall fast and hard—but everything about Clay says this time is different. He’s the difference. The way he is with Dutton. The way he acts toward me. His gentle touch. His kind words. The only threat I feel is that Clay might not reciprocate how strongly I feel about him. Which means I still need to be on my guard because I can’t risk Dutton or me getting hurt again in a deeper way, because Dutton cares and trusts Clay as much as I do.

“So why this place?” I ask, simply curious about Clay’s thoughts.

“I haven’t taken you on a proper date yet. I just wanted some adult time alone with you outside of the house.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, tickled that he wants to spend time with me and grateful for a little adult time myself.

Clay promised Dutton he’d bring him here another time, and while I’m certain Dutton will love the horses, I’m happy that I can have this experience first with Clay.

“I should be thanking you, beautiful.” Clay takes the reins for Honey Rose and ties her up near Terra. Then, he takes my hand and leads me inside the tiny house.

With field stone and exposed brick walls, the space is cool like outside. A double bed rests against one wall. A wood-burning stove is in the opposite corner. A small wooden chair sits near the front window and a giant rug covers the slab floor. The place is quaint and cozy.

Clay rubs his hands together. “Just give me a minute to get the fire going. And ignore the bed. I didn’t bring you here to get laid.”

Running my hand over the smooth, light-colored comforter covered by a dark plaid blanket, I laugh. “What if I want to get laid?”

Clay stills where he’s opening the front grate of the stove. “Then we can revisit the plan after lunch.”

“Lunch?” There is no kitchen. No bathroom for that fact. This place is as rustic as it gets.

He hums like he holds a secret.

After tucking some logs into the stove and striking a match to light the fire, Clay stands. “Be right back.” Clay exits the house, returning with the bag I hadn’t seen him put in the saddle bag hanging off Terra.

“Picnic on the bed?” Because the floor might be a little cold to sit on. He holds up the sack before nodding at the bed and suggests, “Kick off your boots and climb up.”

I do as he says, finding the blanket soft and the pillows comfortable as back support. The bed is cozy in general.

Clay arranges various containers with cut slices of cheese and sausage, crackers and grapes. He also has a variety of nuts. The display is charcuterie minus the board. Lastly, he pulls out a container filled with liquid.

“Going to mull this wine. It should only take a few minutes.” He pours the wine into a small metal pan and places it on top of the stove, adding in some clove sticks and orange slices. Within minutes, the room smells amazing.

“This is so sweet. When did you prepare all this?” My voice bubbles over with excitement from the thoughtfulness of what he’s brought with him. The care in his plan for the day. How romantic it all looks.

“I can’t reveal my secrets.” He chuckles, as easy going as I feel right now. “Just wanted to take care of you for an afternoon. You work so hard, Mavis. Mothering Dutton. Nursing at the hospital. Feeding me. I want you to relax. Hang out for a bit.”

I hum. “I don’t think anyone’s ever cared for me like you do.” I lower my gaze and pluck at the blanket, but I don’t want the giddy energy swirling around us to burst, so I poke fun at myself by adding, “And I’m not certain I know how to relax.”

“Maybe we can figure something out.” He wiggles his brows as he stirs the wine in the pot.

“And here you said you didn’t want to get laid.”

Clay shrugs. “I do, but I don’t. I’m happy to just spend time talking. If it leads to us making out, that’s cool, too.”

“Making out?” I tease while foolishly smiling until I see something in Clay’s expression. “You’re serious.”

“Ever spend an afternoon just kissing someone?”

“No.” My answer is a little too sharp and I soften my voice before repeating the word. “No.”

“Neither have I. And I’d like a first with you.”

“A first?” I whisper.

“You know. I can’t be your first kiss. I can’t steal your virginity.”

I snort. No, that is long gone . “But we had a first kiss with each other. And a first time together.”

Clay’s mouth slowly crooks upward. “Yes, we did, but I want something uniquely first for us.”

Us . I swallow the emotions that bloom with the thought, fighting any conflicting ideas in my head. I drop my gaze and pluck at the blanket once more. “I like us.”

The wooden spoon Clay was using clangs in the pan, and I glance up to him climbing up the bed and crawling over me, knocking me deeper into the pillows at my back.

“I like us, too.” He cups my cheek with one hand and kisses me, slowly, with purpose. As our mouths move together, Clay tugs me lower on the bed, shifting me beneath him. My arms wrap around him, and I’m ready for the make-out portion of our date, but the wine is simmering, and the food is spread out beside me.

I pull back and rub my nose against his. “Maybe we should lunch first.”

“Your nose is freezing.” He chuckles before placing a kiss on the tip. “So, yeah, lunch. You need that wine to warm you up a bit.”

Doesn’t he know I’m always warm around him? Hot for him? I lean up to press another quick kiss to his mouth before shoving him off me.

“Feed me, mister.”

“Your commands are my wish.”

I laugh as I roll to my side and perch on my elbow. “I don’t think that’s the saying.”

“Well, I like my version better. I like when you boss me around.”

“Boss you around?” I lower my head to my hand, propped up on my elbow, and watch him pour warm wine into two camp mugs.

“I told you before. I’m always making decisions. All day long. And it’s nice to be told what to do once in a while.” He brings a mug to me on the bed. “I like you being bold and bossy.”

I tip an eyebrow and hum, blowing on the steaming liquid in my mug. “And I like you sweet and sexy.”

“You think I’m sexy?”

I laugh hard and watch my wine ripple from the exertion. “You know you are, honey.”

Clay climbs up on the bed beside me. “What’s fucking sexy is you calling me honey.”

“What’s fucking sexy is how you act with Dutton.”

We stare at one another a long minute, each cupping the mugs in our hands, until Clay clears his throat. “We’re getting weird, aren’t we?”

Are we? I don’t care. How often does one get an endless stream of compliments?

I sip my wine without answering him, and we fall into a quiet conversation about things we’d like to do one day and dreams we had that haven’t happened yet. Clay is easy to talk to. He’s also a great listener, intent and asking questions, looking directly at me. He might learn more about me than anyone ever has.

I want that kind of attention every day, not just one afternoon, and Clay is the kind of man to follow through on that desire.

As we sip wine and munch through our meal, I do relax, finding the cabin cozy and warm, and the spiced wine heating my insides. I yawn.

“Am I boring you?” Clay chuckles, sitting up to clear off the bed.

“Absolutely not. I’m just . . . toasty.” I bend my knees and curl my toes, snuggling deeper into the pillows behind me. I’m not a napper, but I could easily take one here, and dream of never leaving this place.

The warmth. The company. Of course, I’d miss Dutton.

He’d been happy to see Violet when she arrived at Clay’s house, babysitting backpack over her shoulder, full of activities for the day. Clay told me she’d make a great teacher one day. Violet admits she doesn’t know yet what she wants to be.

Clay tops off each mug of wine and returns to the bed. After handing me my cup I take another sip, humming once more at the flavor and warmth.

“So, I did good?” He arches one brow, smiling at me with a knowing smirk.

“So far, so good,” I tease.

“What would make it better?”

I tap my lower lip. “Maybe . . . you naked?”

Clay laughs, but his expression shifts from mirth to surprise. “Oh, you were serious.”

“How much time do we have?” I ask wondering about the horses, the weather, and Violet watching Dutton.

“We’ll take all the time you need, butterfly. No rush.” He leans over and takes my mug, setting both his and mine on the floor near the stove. Standing at the end of the bed, his hands go to his belt. “Don’t know if I can make out with you naked, without wanting more.” He loosens his belt and starts unbuttoning his shirt and as much as I want to have sex with him here, I kind of like his idea better.

I pat the bed beside me. “Maybe we should keep our clothes on, and just kiss.”

“Nothing just about kissing you, beautiful.” He climbs up on the bed again, belt loose, shirt open, and crawls over me before leaning forward and kissing me, soft and sweet before hard and hungry.

And he’s right. There is nothing just about kissing this man.