Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Kat

T he dark barn is quiet, the gentle shuffling of the horses and the sweet scent of hay settling my frazzled nerves. That meeting with Gabe went about how I expected it to, but I thought I'd be able to walk away confident in the outcome. And while I accomplished what I'd intended—which was to establish contact and request he change the agreement—I had not expected to be so affected by the exchange.

It's utterly confusing to me how I can despise someone so thoroughly and yet feel a sliver of compassion for him. There's no doubt in my mind after talking to him that he has Sylvie's best interests at heart and that he loves her very much. I hate that it forces me to concede that Gabe actually has a heart when all evidence up until now has been to the contrary.

I make my way to Shadow's stall, using only the moonlight from the open doors I entered through to guide me. When I slide open his door and flip on his stall light, his big black head is there to greet me. I pat him on the nose, right below the white star, which is the only marking on his body. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a peppermint for him.

Shadow's my current project horse, nearly three and a half years old and coming along nicely. He was born right here at Blackburn and Ethan gifted him to me. I took over his care immediately, spending daily time with him as a foal, touching and brushing him, sometimes leading him around on a halter to build trust. When he turned one, I began structured groundwork on a lunge line to build his muscle and stamina, as well as to introduce him to verbal commands. He learned how to wear a bit and bridle and I placed saddle pads on him so he could get used to equipment on his back. We did that for nearly a year.

Now I'm working toward breaking Shadow to be ridden. It's a slow and arduous process, sometimes taking two steps forward and one step back. For several months, he wore a saddle while I lunged him, using the time to desensitize him to the weight of the equipment and the girth holding it in place. I also used long reins on him to teach him steering and stopping commands he'll need with a rider.

Last month, I started on mounting. It's the most exciting part for me because it brings to fruition the trust we've built over the past few years. It started out with me having him stand near a mounting block and me just leaning on him. Gradually, I put more and more weight over his back until I felt confident enough to throw my leg over the saddle.

Next, I sat in the saddle and let one of the other staff lead him around at a walk while I held his reins loose. He's mastered that now without too much conniption but I never forget he's young, spirited and sometimes flighty, all while weighing close to a thousand pounds. I'm probably going to end up in the dirt a few times once I get in the saddle without any assistance, but part of all my years of training is learning how to take a fall without getting too hurt.

The main hall of lights flicker on and I turn to see Trey and Wade walking toward me.

"What are you doing here so late?" I ask. They should have been finished with their work long ago and settled into the house they share in town.

"We were going to drop off some of Miranda's leftover meatloaf at your apartment but we saw your Jeep here," Wade says, holding up a paper bag.

My stomach rumbles as I give Shadow another pat and close his stall door. "Excellent. I'm starving."

Nabbing the bag from Wade, I sit down on one of the supply chests spaced periodically between the stalls, holding grooming brushes, bandages and other odds-and-ends equipment. Inside the bag sits a plastic container with a thick slice of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Miranda even rolled up silverware in a napkin.

I plop the meal on my lap and dig in, mumbling "thanks" around my first bite. Trey and Wade are silent as they watch me, and finally I look up. "Take a picture. It lasts longer."

Trey snorts, putting a booted foot up on the chest and leaning his elbow on his thigh. "Are you going to tell us how it went with Mardraggon?"

"Oh, that." I nod as I shovel in another bite and after swallowing, I say, "It went as expected. He's a dick."

Wade laughs but Trey doesn't. "You sure you're okay dealing with him?"

I glare at my second-oldest brother. "You don't think I can because I'm a girl?"

"Girl has nothing to do with it," Trey says.

Wade steps in to defend our brother's words. "It has everything to do with us being overprotective. We'll gladly take that duty from you."

Trey nods. "You shouldn't even have to breathe the same air as that douche. We'd just like to spare you that."

The meatloaf sits like a lead ball in my stomach as I realize my brothers have no clue just how well I can handle Gabe Mardraggon. They would flip out if they had any inkling that I've had a lot of personal experience holding my own with that man.

The stadium-style lecture hall at the University of Kentucky was no less intimidating on this, my fourth day in the class over the last two weeks. The complex equations the professor wrote on the whiteboard caused my brain to fritz and I was too terrified to raise my hand for clarification because there were over two hundred other students that I was positive were a million times smarter than me. I wasn't ready for that kind of ridicule.

Instead, I sat in the very last row near the door in case I had to exit for a puking session because math literally nauseated me that much.

"Excuse me," someone said, and I tucked my legs in to let a guy move past. He ignored the open seats farther down and plopped into the one next to me.

I turned my head to offer a pathetic smile to my new seatmate, only to have my mouth drop open to see Gabe Mardraggon sitting there. I hated how handsome he was with his golden hair all mussed like he'd rolled out of bed and those eyes that glowed like pale bourbon.

I knew he'd been accepted into UK—our town is so small you know when someone farts too loud. I hadn't had the misfortune of running into him yet and figured I wouldn't since the campus was so big.

Gabe smirked and I knew him taking that seat was for no other reason than to irritate me. Our families' mutual disdain clearly drove his action, making the choice to sit next to me less innocent and more of a silent challenge.

I glared at him and turned back to my notebook. The professor began the lecture and I took copious notes, although I understood maybe only five percent of what I was copying down. I was in the middle of tabbing a problem in my textbook when Gabe leaned over and whispered, "It's very distracting, all of this sighing you're doing."

I hadn't realized I'd been making any noises at all but that tracked. This class caused anxiety and I realized I'd been huffing and puffing it out. I spoke low through gritted teeth. "If you don't like it, move."

"Nah," he murmured, causing me to turn my gaze to him. "I like it right here."

I glanced around, looking for a nearby empty seat I could move to but there wasn't one. The class had filled up and while there were some empty seats in the row we were in, I would have to move past him to get there and he'd probably follow me. There's no doubt he was just being mean at that point.

"I take it math isn't your strong suit," he asked, again in a low rumble so that only I could hear and we wouldn't disturb the lecture.

I kept my attention on the professor but muttered, "An understatement."

"I could help you if you want."

My head whipped his way, my teeth bared in a silent snarl as I hissed softly, "Why would you even say that? I'm a Blackburn. You're a Mardraggon. We don't help each other."

"Point out the rulebook that says so," he challenged. My mouth snapped shut because there was obviously no rulebook. Just decades upon decades of mutual loathing. His voice dropped lower. "Let's get a cup of coffee after class. I'll help you with the homework while it's still fresh from the lecture."

I was taken aback by his suggestion, the sincerity in his voice disarming. I ignored how gorgeous he was, something I'd never been able to give credence to. His muscular build and amber eyes were a devastating combination for most women, but not this Blackburn.

I was, however, able to, for just a moment, think he was something other than a Mardraggon.

Just a guy offering to help.

"Okay," I found myself saying before I could rethink it. "Coffee sounds… helpful."

"…Be careful, all right? We know the Mardraggons' true colors."

Wade's voice jolts me out of my memories and I smile at him. "Yeah… I know. I'll be careful."

The conversation shifts naturally as Trey looks out the barn door, his gaze distant. "Can't believe that bastard Lionel is out of jail already. Makes my blood boil. What I wouldn't give to serve up a little Blackburn justice."

Admittedly, I'd love to see my brothers pound Lionel to a pulp but I stop that idea in its tracks, because Wade and Trey are just stupid enough to think they could get away with some sort of retaliation. "You need to let the court system handle him. The last thing this family needs is you two to get in trouble and besides, we need to think about Sylvie first."

"Of course she's the main priority," Trey declares, his voice heavy with the gravity of the situation. "And supporting Ethan too, but at least he's got Marcie fretting over him and Sylvie. I don't think he's minding that at all."

I chuckle because seeing my big brother fall in love with Marcie has been the bright spot in all of this. Setting the container of food to the side, I ask, "How do you guys feel about Sylvie seeing Gabe? Ethan's pretty opposed to it right now."

Wade leans against the barn wall, folding his arms as he considers. "I get why Ethan's wary, but Gabe did turn in his own father. That's got to count for something, right?"

Trey shakes his head, the creases in his brow deepening. "It's not just about what Gabe did or didn't do. It's about keeping Sylvie out of any more drama. She's been through enough already."

"Yeah," I murmur, twisting the napkin between my fingers. "She mentioned wanting to see him. Gabe wants that too, but Ethan's not budging."

"Well, there's no way in hell Sylvie is going back to that house," Trey growls.

I glance up at him. "Gabe's not living there. He bought a mansion over on Pike's Way."

"Really?" Trey says with a low whistle. "Breaking ties, I suppose."

"Maybe," I reply, although that certainly seems to be the case.

Wade kicks at a clump of dirt on the barn floor. "Sylvie's caught in the middle of all this mess. It's not fair. Maybe seeing Gabe would give her some normalcy, or at least as normal as it can get with our families."

Trey's laugh is cynical. "Normalcy? With the Mardraggons? That's a stretch."

I nod, understanding both perspectives. "It's tricky. On one hand, Sylvie deserves to have all her family around, especially the ones who care about her. I asked Gabe to amend the trust agreement to remove the reversion clause pertaining to what happens if Sylvie dies."

Snorting, Trey drops his foot from the chest. "He'll never do it. That goes against his own interests because while he might not actively want Sylvie dead, he won't give up the slight possibility if she died of some noncriminal cause, he'd get the winery."

"Perhaps," I murmur, wondering what Gabe will do. He didn't commit one way or the other and I don't know the man's mind. I thought I did at one time, but that turned out to be a lie.

"Not to change the subject," Wade says, pushing off the wall, "but to change the subject, did you hear the old Harrison farm is up for sale? It includes all their inventory."

Trey chuckles, rubbing his chin. "Yeah, imagine us getting into the racing game. The Blackburns doing thoroughbreds. That'd shake things up."

I frown slightly, practical as ever. "But we do saddlebreds. We don't know the first thing about racing horses."

"That's not entirely true," Wade counters with a smirk. "Mom's from a thoroughbred racing family back in Ireland."

"Having a few distant cousins who breed thoroughbreds isn't exactly deep knowledge," I drawl. "Not enough to tap into the business." I seize the opportunity to lighten the mood. "Speaking of tapping into things, how's your latest conquest? Still trying to juggle three dates in one day?"

Trey's face turns a delightful shade of red as Wade bursts out laughing. Trey is a playboy and a commitment-phobe, and "dating" isn't exactly the right word for the time he spends with women.

"Hey, a man's got to have some hobbies," Trey defends himself with a sly grin.

"Keep telling yourself that," Wade says, clapping Trey on the shoulder.

I stand from the chest, placing the container of food back in the paper bag. I intend to finish it but I'm done talking to these buffoons and it's getting late. "I'm going home. You two lock up."

"You don't get to order us around." Wade waggles his eyebrows. "We're older than you."

"In age, but not maturity," I toss back. As I walk by him, I land a solid punch on his arm and he yelps. "Besides, we both know I can kick your asses."

They howl with laughter because I can't, but they let me believe it all the same.

"Good night, sis," Wade says as he rubs his arm.

"Good night," I reply fondly, giving them a genuine smile. I love my brothers—my entire family—insanely.

And Sylvie with a fierce protectiveness I've never known.

It's why I know that I'm the best one to handle Gabe Mardraggon. Truly, I'm the only one who knows his deepest secrets and if I have to pull them out as leverage to get his compliance, I'll do it without hesitation.

Even if it means my own downfall.