Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Trey

"I thought Holland looked grand," my mom muses as she peeks out the curtains of the formal living room. She's keeping watch for Holland to arrive for dinner but glances back at my dad. "Didn't she look grand?"

"Pretty as a picture," my dad agrees.

Stunningly beautiful is my opinion, but I keep that to myself.

My family has congregated in the formal living room as it's closest to the front door so we can welcome Holland en masse. Ethan is here with Marcie and Sylvie, all three sitting on the couch with Sylvie's dog Renault at her feet. Kat brought along Gabe and they're cuddling on the love seat which makes me want to puke. Wade and I are the solo guys. He's cocked back in one of the straight-back chairs beside a gaming table surfing his phone, and I'm pacing by the mantel because I'm a nervous ball of energy.

I wasn't able to converse with Holland again today. I ran to the local supply store, got the needed materials, and was ready to get to work when I made it back to the printshop. I'd hoped maybe Holland might join me over chicken salad wraps I picked up in town at the deli but when I offered one to her, she said she had to run errands. She left me a key to the shop, told me to lock up and didn't look back as she walked out the door.

There's no way she's going to be able to avoid us now. Coming to dinner with all the Blackburns—minus Abby, of course—means she's set herself in our crosshairs. I imagine the questions will fly so fast she won't know what hit her.

"She's here," my mom exclaims, letting go of the sheer curtain she'd been peeping through. She smooths her hair and rushes out of the room, wanting to have the door open and waiting for Holland when her feet hit the porch steps.

We all meander out after Mom, me taking up the rear. In fact, I don't even step all the way into the foyer but rather lean back against the doorjamb. With hands tucked in my pockets, I can see over my mom's head to Holland trotting up the steps.

She's wearing a pair of faded, loose jeans, barn boots and a white blouse. It's the perfect attire to have a casual dinner with a horse family. She braided her long blond hair so that the tail hangs over her shoulder and it makes her look like she's eighteen again.

"There she is," my mom coos as she reaches the door and wraps Holland in a hug. I scrutinize Holland's reaction, because she's been very standoffish with me.

But with my mom, her arms wrap tight and they stand that way for what seems like an eternity.

"Welcome home, love." My mom pulls back, puts her hands to Holland's cheeks and lets her eyes roam over her face. "Oh, we've missed you."

Ethan steps forward and introduces Marcie and Sylvie. Unless Holland heard it through the town grapevine this afternoon, she still doesn't know the details about what's happened over the last few months between our family and the Mardraggons.

She smiles sweetly at Marcie, shaking her hand. "It's nice to meet you." Her expression is masked into one of polite curiosity as she bends at the waist and shakes Sylvie's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you too. And is this your dog?"

The scruffy brown dog submits to scratches as Sylvie nods. "His name is Renault."

Holland blinks in surprise as she hears Sylvie for the first time. "You're French?"

"Oui. But American too because my dad is American." She looks up to Ethan and smiles with a newfound love that makes my heart skip a beat. It's amazing to me how easily this family fell in love with this little girl, despite the rough start.

Holland straightens and her eyes flick to Kat and Gabe, and because I can still read her, I see the inquisitiveness mixed with confusion about this new Blackburn family she's come home to. Kat grins at her mischievously, and I know my sister well. I think she's relishing that Holland is a little on tilted ground from all the changes, and that's perhaps a bit of petty payback for leaving us all without so much as a goodbye.

I can't say that I disagree with Kat for those feelings, but an innate protectiveness for Holland has been raging through me since her return. I felt it for her when she was a little girl and it's only grown stronger over time. The way things ended between us apparently hasn't diminished that one bit, maybe just sent it into hibernation, and now the bear is waking up.

"Well," my mom says, clapping her hands once, "let's head into the kitchen and sit down to supper. It's where we always did our best talking."

We all follow her in where the table is set for a feast. I feel the tension rolling off Holland as she looks hesitant to take a seat but ultimately positions herself to the right of Kat with my dad adjacent to her at the far end. Miranda, our housekeeper, has outdone herself with the spread: roast chicken, mashed potatoes, brussels sprouts, cornbread and a big salad. A pitcher of lemonade sits in the center, next to a basket of freshly sliced sourdough.

"Everyone, dig in," Miranda says after setting the last bowl down and we start passing dishes.

As we eat, the conversation flows easily. My mom chatters about everyone's personal lives, with special attention to Abby and her new husband Kellan, since they're not here. Ethan talks about the farm, which has expanded its breeding operations since Holland left. This leads to a round of bombarding questions to Holland about her job and life in Zurich. She handles it all with grace, her answers concisely factual with no hint as to her feelings. She's holding herself in reserve and I can tell she's waiting for the inevitable push by one of us, demanding to know why she left and cut off all contact.

It's Wade who decides to delve in, but he's always been the least tactful among us. He's also the one who wears his heart on his sleeve.

"So, why did you just leave and never come back?" Wade asks, his tone more curious than accusatory but my mom reacts.

"Wade Thomas Blackburn." My mom shoots him the stink eye. "Don't be rude." She then turns to Holland. "We're just happy you're back."

Holland looks stricken, her eyes darting to me. I know she won't tell the truth and true to form, a cool mask descends over her face. "I had a great opportunity to change schools to better match the degree I wanted, and then I just got so busy. It's easy to lose touch when you move away."

It sounds like a response she'd been practicing in front of the mirror, and I can see Wade wants to argue with her that it's no excuse, but Holland then goes on to divert the attention from herself. She swivels to look at my sister. "So, you're dating a Mardraggon now? What's that all about?"

I nearly choke on my lemonade because Holland always thought quick on her feet and it kept me on my feet. I can tell Kat appreciates her sly wit and being freshly in love and eager to explain, she launches into the story of how she and Gabe came together despite decades of our families hating each other. She bypasses the backstory of Ethan and his surprise daughter Sylvie, who was born of a Blackburn and Mardraggon one night stand and instead focuses on the clandestine romance she had with Gabe starting when they were in college.

I never realized until now how similarly Kat's relationship with Gabe mirrors my own with Holland. While I never considered us a family that couldn't trust one another, it seems both me and my sister were good at keeping our love lives secret.

Kat's retelling is lighthearted and plays down the bad feelings between our families. She skips over the horrid night she was kidnapped as a result of sins instigated by Gabe's father, Lionel, instead focusing on the positives from their union. My parents and Wade join in, each sharing bits and pieces of the story. Gabe grins, adding his own perspective, punctuating his feelings by leaning over to kiss Kat on the cheek.

I'll begrudgingly admit it comes off comical how everyone tries to outdo each other with the details, and it feels like old times. The family gathered in solidarity and laughing over life's hurdles and fastballs.

Talk eventually turns back to Holland and her current plans with the printshop. I'm duly impressed with her game plan to put the shop into some semblance of order so her mother can continue to run it, but I can see the worry in her eyes and hear the uncertainty in her tone. It's subtle, not seemingly picked up on by anyone else, but then again, no one knows her like I do.

As dinner winds down, my dad asks Holland if she still rides.

She smiles brightly. "When I can fit it into my busy schedule. It's definitely still my happy place but not nearly enough."

"I remember when you kids would trail ride around the property," my dad muses with a fond smile. "While we're a competition barn, there's nothing like just having joyful fun on a horse, particularly with good friends."

My mom nods her agreement with the same contented expression that they provided good lives for their kids.

"Some of my favorite memories," Holland murmurs, drifting into my dad's reminiscence. "It always felt like nothing could bother me here."

"Let's go right now," I suggest, the words out of my mouth before I can stop them.

There's complete silence as everyone turns my way. I haven't said much during the meal, content to observe Holland and try to figure out all the things she refuses to tell me. But I don't want it to seem like I'm the only one with a vested interest in her, so I look to my siblings. "Come on… we can all go out for a late sunset ride through the north pasture. Go down to the pond, do some fishing like the old days except because we're adults, we'll take beer with us."

Holland's eyes flare with alarm, I'm sure at the prospect of spending time with me. She shakes her head. "Oh no. I couldn't impose. Maybe I could come back one day and have a lesson, which I'll gladly pay for."

"Nonsense," Ethan says with a snort. "You won't pay for any lessons here and anytime you want to ride while you're in town, you just come on over and saddle up."

"I don't want to impose tonight—"

"Come on," I urge. "You just said it was your happy place, so let's take you there. Lord knows you could use it."

"Absolutely," my mom adds in the tone that says she won't take no for an answer. "It's a beautiful evening and there's no time like the present."

I turn to Wade. "You in?"

"I'd love to go," he replies, looking a bit torn. "But I've got plans tonight with some buddies."

The same buddies we went to see the Whiskey River Gang with this past weekend. They're a tight pack but I can only take them in small doses. They're all about the party lifestyle and I've moved beyond that.

Kat stands from the table, grabbing empty plates to take to the sink. "Gabe and I have to get going. There's a new distillery that opened up in Versailles and they're doing a tasting tonight."

"Checking out the competition," Marcie teases.

Gabe snorts with derision as he too stands to clear plates. "There's no competition to Mardraggon but I am curious to see what they're putting out."

The rest of the family follows suit, something we always do after a big dinner, the many hands make light work mantra never truer. Miranda always leaves after she serves dinner as we're more than capable of cleaning up.

Holland jumps right in, as she always did whenever she sat at our table, but I touch her shoulder. "There are plenty of people to clean up. Let's go get a ride in before it gets too dark."

"Oh, I don't know," she says hesitantly, the bread bowl in her hand. She's not balking because she needs to help clean up—she doesn't want to be alone with me. I can see straight through those brown eyes to the bitterness lurking there.

"Holland," my mom chides, taking the bowl from her. "We've got plenty of help, so ye two go on and have some fun."

Holland turns to Ethan, and I don't miss the pleading in her request. "How about you, Marcie and Sylvie? Want to come?"

Ethan shakes his head, rubbing his hand over Sylvie's hair. "This one has been nursing a summer cold so it's an early night for her."

"Oh," Holland says, and boy can I see those gears clicking inside, trying to figure a way to weasel out of this.

I don't give her a chance. "It's settled then. We can be saddled up and out of here in fifteen minutes."

"You two have fun," my dad says, and my mother beams.

Kat turns from the dishwasher where she's loading plates as Wade rinses them. "Can we do lunch tomorrow, Holland?"

Holland looks overwhelmed but then says, "Yeah… sure."

"Let's go," I say, nodding toward the mudroom that leads outside. I don't turn around to see if she follows and I figure there's a good chance she'll just leave, but I'm relieved to hear her footsteps coming down the porch steps behind me.

It's silent as we head to the lesson barn which houses those horses used to teach people to ride. The lesson horses are usually a bit older and mellower, far better suited for a ride through pastureland. Not that Holland and I can't handle spicier horses, but I don't want to have to worry about any complications.

Holland doesn't say a word and I'm okay with that. I figure I'll get her on the horse first, out into the countryside, and when she's relaxed, I'll be able to say my piece. Inside the barn, comforting smells of hay and horses greet us. This is my happy place.

I show Holland to a stall where a chestnut mare waits, coat gleaming in the low light. "This is Ginger." I pat the horse's neck. "She's a sweetheart."

Holland smiles, running her hand along Ginger's side. "She's beautiful."

"She'll give you a quiet ride." I move to the next stall and open it up to lead Dash out. He's a gelding that just came out of show retirement but has taken well to lesson life.

Holland nods and we tack up the horses together. I notice she works with efficiency and confidence. Once we're ready, we lead them out into the pasture and use a mounting block to put our butts in the saddle. The sun hangs low but still plenty of light left. We ride in silence for a while, the only sounds the soft thud of hooves on grass and the occasional snort from the horses. Holland gazes around and I notice her taking a few deep inhales of the fresh Kentucky air. She looks at everything but me and stubbornly holds her silence.

Eventually, we reach the pond where we used to fish as kids and I dismount. She looks hesitant at first but then follows suit, leading her horse alongside mine as we walk around the northern edge.

"Remember when we used to come here?" I ask, my voice soft.

"It was a lifetime ago."

"It's where you and I started," I say, stopping to face her.

Her expression hardens, lips pressed flat. "I remember."

She says a lifetime ago, but for me, it seems like yesterday.

The sun was starting its descent, casting a golden glow over the pond and the surrounding trees. The air was thick with the hum of cicadas, the occasional splash of a fish breaking the surface, and the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

Our horses were tied to a sitting bench my dad built years ago and Holland and I sat on the edge of the dock. We both had lines in the water, but nothing was biting.

Abby, Wade and Kat were out of state, competing at a horse show with our father. I didn't go because at age twenty-two, I was working full time as an employee of Blackburn Farms, in charge of keeping the lesson program running while Dad was away. I didn't mind because it was my chosen career and while I enjoyed competing now and then, I didn't miss it.

Holland didn't go to the show because she didn't own a competition horse. Her family couldn't afford it and I always got the feeling it was a scrape for her to maintain lessons. Sometimes though, her mom would let her enter an academy competition, which is basically where she would show one of the farm's lesson horses, and the girl—now a woman at eighteen—earned her fair share of blue ribbons over the years.

But competing wasn't in Holland's blood the way it was in my siblings', and this afternoon, she was the last lesson of the day, so I suggested fishing when she was done. Her eyes lit up, always eager to do something outdoors and more importantly, to avoid going home.

Holland sat beside me on the dock, her legs tucked beneath her as she watched her bobber float on the water. Her golden hair was in a low ponytail, the setting sunlight making it look like spun gold. It's funny… how I was noticing those things about her more and more, especially since she'd graduated high school two weeks ago.

There seemed to be a new maturity about her that I couldn't ignore. While I always thought of her as "pretty" in a brotherly way, the more she grew up, I'm not ashamed to admit that my looking didn't feel so brotherly.

She glanced over and caught me staring. I didn't try to hide it because with Holland, I always felt comfortable.

"Are you excited about college?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. "Yeah, I am. It's just… I'm going to miss this place. Miss all of you."

"We'll miss you too. But you're just going up the road to the University of Kentucky. You'll be back to visit all the time and my dad said he can do your lessons on the weekend."

"Yeah, I know. It's just hard to leave behind everything that's familiar, you know?" She seemed to consider that, then added, "On the other hand, it's an opportunity to leave some things behind."

Her words put me on alert because I knew she was talking about her dad. Over the years, me and my siblings pieced together that Holland's home life wasn't good. When we were little, it didn't really register, but as we became closer, she'd let things slip here and there. I think she was embarrassed about it, and she never gave details, but one thing was clear—she was afraid of her father. I always wondered if he abused her in some way but never quite knew how to ask.

Holland was eerily quiet, and tension knotted in my chest. "Are you… are you okay with everything at home?"

Her eyes darkened as she stared into mine. "It's fine."

"Yet for some reason, your tone and expression lead me to believe it's not."

"It's nothing," she insisted.

"Holland," I chided gently. "It's me. You can share and I won't tell a soul."

"It's just…" She looked over the ripples on the pond and sighed. "My dad won't pay for college. He wants me to stay here and work in the printshop."

I frowned. "But you've already been accepted."

"And I've got a decent amount of scholarship money that will cover tuition and board. I can get a job to cover books and other expenses."

"That's good," I said with relief, because as much as I'd miss Holland, this was her way out of a mediocre life running a printshop with a man she didn't like.

"Mmm-hmm." She reeled in her line, cast it back out again, lost in her thoughts.

"What else?"

Jerking, she looked over to me. "Nothing."

"Something," I insisted.

Holland stared at me a very long time, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. It made me want to kiss her, but I held absolutely still. She was pondering whether to give into my demands to share and I realized, I wanted to know everything about her.

I was shocked to the core when she said, "My dad is an alcoholic and his drinking has gotten worse. My mom doesn't stand up to him and well… it's just hard."

"Fuck," I muttered, not knowing what to say. I knew Lyle Rhodes wasn't a good person, but I wasn't expecting that. Questions flew through my mind. "Does he… does he hurt you?"

"When he's really mad," she murmured, looking down at her lap. "It's why I can't wait to get out of here."

I felt a surge of anger and protectiveness. I had no idea things were that bad. "Why didn't you ever tell us? We could have helped."

She shrugged, a sad smile on her lips as she looked back up at me. "I didn't want to burden you guys. Your family has always been my escape, my safe place. And… it wasn't your problem."

That compels me to actually move and I take the rod from her hand, setting it down on the dock beside mine. Her head bows and I reach out to push a strand of hair loosened from her ponytail. I've touched Holland many times, casually or in passing, but this was intimate.

She turned to look at me again.

"You're not a burden, Holland. You're family to us."

Her eyes glistened and she nodded, swallowing hard. "Blackburn Farms is my refuge."

"It always will be," I said, and then I pulled her into a hug. Despite palling around with her, Wade, Kat and Abby for years, it was the first time she and I had ever embraced.

Holland slid over and laid her head on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms tight around her and she burrowed into me. Her breath fanned over my neck and a shiver rolled up my spine. We stayed like that for several minutes and when she pulled back, it was only to stare at me. Our faces were inches apart and I couldn't help but notice she glanced down at my mouth.

Time stretched between us, the air thick with unspoken emotion. Before I could second-guess myself, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. It was gentle, tentative, and I felt her stiffen in surprise. I pulled back, afraid I'd made a mistake, although I didn't quite see how that was possible when my heart was hammering against my breastbone. But then she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me back as if her life depended on it.

There was no gentleness or hesitant exploring. It was a kiss immediately filled with confidence and passion on both our parts. The world around us faded away, leaving the two of us in that perfect moment.

And it changed everything.

"I'm sorry for what I did to you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Holland turns to me, surprise on her face for a second, then disdain. "I don't want to hear it, Trey. It's in the past and I've forgotten it."

"Clearly you haven't," I reply. "Because you won't talk to me about it."

"Because I've forgotten it," she grits out angrily. "I've moved on and you were nothing more than an inconsequential—"

There's no thinking involved. The anger that flares within me that she would dare call what we had inconsequential has me reacting without any thought in the world other than proving her wrong.

I drop my reins, grab her by the shoulders and pull her in for a blistering kiss. She briefly stiffens in shock, but then she melts into it. Her mouth moves against mine although her arms remain loose by her sides. It's a slow kiss, filled with all the desire I've kept buried for years and now have the burning need to get out.

But then the feeling passes, and she shoves me hard. "What the hell was that?" she seethes, even daring to wipe her hand across her mouth.

I'm not moved by her offense. "Don't you dare say what we had was inconsequential."

"Why not?" she snaps back. "You certainly didn't think it was important enough to see it through."

"It was a little more complicated than that," I say.

"On the contrary, it seemed very simple to you. But it's moot. I've moved on and I suggest you do too."

She spins toward her horse and in an impressive display of athleticism vaults into the saddle. She steers her horse around, but I stop her with four little words. "You kissed me back."

I can practically hear her gritting her teeth because she can't deny it. For a heartbeat, she was sunk as deep into that kiss as I was.

"A mistake," she says, glaring over her shoulder at me.

"Maybe a second chance," I suggest, and I have to wonder what the hell I'm doing. This is probably a really bad idea considering the dynamics. "I'll take my share of the responsibility, but you should as well. After you left, I tried to contact you. You never responded. Just shut me out."

"What was the point?" she asks.

"Because I could have explained. Made you understand. Hell, did you ever consider that maybe I'd figured the error of my ways and wanted to beg you to come back? But you just cut me out."

"You cut me out first," she yells, causing Ginger to snort and shake her head. Holland turns her horse around to face me head-on. "I can't do this, Trey. Nothing has changed between us."

I shake my head, desperate to make her understand. "I've changed, Holland. I'm older, smarter, wiser."

She gives a bitter laugh, pulling a little hard on the reins, causing Ginger to skitter sideways. Holland sticks in the saddle like a pro and sneers at me. "I am too, Trey. And I'm far too wise to get involved with you again. I learned my lesson."

She then turns Ginger and sends her into a canter back across the pasture toward the barn.