Blazing the Trail (Sunshine & Shadow Book 5) (4 page)

Kip didn’t answer. He
also didn’t let go of Chinook’s halter.

“Kip. You need to let me go.”

He dropped his hand like
she had electrocuted him. April nudged Chinook forward and passed him. Her leg
brushed against his shoulder but she didn’t stop, urging the horse faster until
he was galloping down the driveway, leaving a trail of hoof-prints in the fresh
snow.

She felt the wind hit her
cheeks and cause a shiver to travel up her spine. She was glad she had worn her
thick jacket. She zipped it up higher as Chinook slowed and trudged through the
untouched powder towards the creek.

The moon shone on the
moving water, glistening on the back of each ripple. Snow lined the banks and
April was careful to avoid places where it might be slippery. Chinook was light
and responsive; he always was when she was bareback. These were the times she
truly believed the horse could read her mind; he moved before she asked. An owl
sounded in the trees on the other side of the creek and April smiled; this was
what she had missed in L.A. This feeling of freedom, of serenity.

A stick cracked to her
left and her head snapped around. Chinook froze, one foot in the air. April
searched the dark brush and couldn’t see anything. She patted Chinook on the
neck and exhaled.

“It’s alright, buddy.”

She urged the reluctant
horse forward and they skirted the trees, staying close to the creek, guided by
the moon. April knew they would have to go through one section of forest on the
way back to the ranch and she considered turning around, retracing her steps,
but they were already over halfway, and she was getting cold.

Chinook snorted and
stopped again. April’s hands began to tremble.

“Hello?” she called out.

There was no reply.

Her eyes searched the
forest again, and came up empty. There was nothing there. She was tense, and
she was transferring the fear to her horse. It was her fault. There was nothing
out there. She repeated this to herself as they rode through the trees, and
slowly, Chinook relaxed. As they stepped under the last low-hanging branch and
into the final meadow before they hit the driveway, April gave her horse his
head.

Chinook picked up the
pace until he was at a fast lope. His gait was smooth, controlled. April had no
tension on his face, but the horse knew what pace to be at. He loped gently up
the last hill and then they were on the driveway. April sighed. Chinook
snorted, his body shaking beneath her.

April couldn’t help but
laugh. “Look at us,” she said, “A couple of wimps.”

She could see the lights
from the barn illuminating the snow and slid from Chinook’s wide back as they
stopped in front. She patted the big pinto on the neck and led him into his
stall. Unclipping the halter, she filled his bucket with fresh water from the
well and closed the barn door behind her, sighing and seeing her breath collect
in the air like fog.

The lodge lights were off
and she slipped inside quietly, kicking off her frozen boots and hurrying
upstairs to get warm.

The following day, she
and Hailey were in the tack room, cleaning bridles and bits, in preparation of
the upcoming season.

“What time did you get in
last night?”

“I have no idea. Everyone
else was already asleep. I went straight to bed.”

“I saw you talking to Kip
before you left.”

“He was so mad.”

“Worried more like. He
was
pacing
.”

“Pacing?”

Hailey nodded. “Up and
down the lodge. Said he wasn’t going to bed until you got home.”

April frowned. “He wasn’t
up when I came in.”

“He was. He slept on the
couch in the living room. He was just waking up when I went in this morning.
Then he ran to his cabin.”

“I can’t believe he did
that...” April mused, running oil over the headstall in her hand.

“Why not? He might be
upset, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you anymore. He only just
got you back, April.”

April looked at her.
Could that be true? She shook her head. She couldn’t think about that.

“I’m gonna go see if dad
wants his saddle oiled.” She stood up and left Hailey cleaning the bridles.

Inside, she headed
straight for the office.

“Dad?” she said,
knocking. She pushed the door open.

Her dad was on the phone,
and gestured for her to sit in the other chair.

“Bill, I have no problem
with you trapping the beavers. But I’m telling you that the area you’ve chosen
is making things dangerous for us down here!”

April frowned. She had no
idea what they were talking about.

He continued. “I know
that’s how you make a living, Bill. But someone’s gonna get hurt...You’re
flushing them out of the mountains and onto my property...They’ve started
redirecting my creeks. My guys know those passes, and now there’s a new danger
because the beavers are finding new homes...I know that, Bill, but...” He put
his head in his hand. “I’m not asking you to stop. Just to change your area. Go
further up river, please...Alright, see ya.”

He sighed and hung up the
phone.

“Everything okay?” April
asked.

Her dad nodded. “Yeah,
don’t worry about it. Just Bill, being cranky. What did you need, honey?”

“I was wondering if you
wanted me to oil your saddle while we’re out there.”

“I think Kip already did
it, but you’d have to check with him. If not, that would great. Thanks.”

He began tapping on the
computer and April nodded to herself. She turned around and left the lodge. She
saw Kip heading down to his cabin but she decided to leave him alone. She
didn’t feel like dealing with his irritability right now.

Hailey was still working
in the tack room.

“In all the time I’ve
known Kip,” she said to her, “I’ve never seen him hold a grudge for this long.”

“I don’t think it’s a
grudge,” Hailey said.

“Then what do you think
it is? Because I sure as hell don’t get it.”

“Like I said, I think
it’s just pain. He’s hurt from what happened.” Hailey picked up another bridle.
“Imagine if it was you, and you’d stayed in L.A, and had to work with Lex every
day, after what he did.”

April bit her lip.

“That’s what I think,” Hailey
said, “I don’t think he’s angry anymore, because being angry for that long
would be exhausting. I think he’s just hurting now. And seeing your face just
makes it hurt more - kinda brings it to the surface again.”

“It’s different. Lex
chose his career over me.”

“You chose Lex over Kip.”

April almost dropped the
headstall in her hand. Her fingers went numb. The implication of what she had
done to Kip hit her with full force. She had made Kip feel as bad as Lex had
made her feel.

“He was in love with you,
April,” Hailey said. “He’s always been in love with you.”

“If he loves me, it’s
like a sister...we’re friends.”

“No, April. He’s
in
love with you. Everyone can see that. You’re the only one who doesn’t—or won’t
admit it.”

“If he loves me, then why
is he still avoiding me?

Hailey shrugged.

April stood up. “I can’t
deal with this right now.”

She stormed out of the
barn and up to her room, collapsing onto her bed. Everything was going wrong.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this when she came back. It wasn’t supposed to be
so hard. She grabbed her pillow and hugged it to her chest. She was exhausted,
and closed her eyes.

A few days later, she
woke up and checked her phone. Her background was still a photo of Prime Time
and before she could stop it, tears were filling her eyes. She assumed Lex had
sold him, or given him away. She didn’t know. And she couldn’t dwell. She had
other things to think about now. Leaving the lodge, she met Kip in front of the
barn.

“Hey,” he said, avoiding
eye contact.

“Hi,” she replied.

They stood awkwardly for
a moment before April took a deep breath.

“Can we talk? Like...ever?”

Kip looked at her.

“I don’t get it, Kip. Why
aren’t you yelling at me? Screaming at me? You’re avoiding me, giving me the
silent treatment, and I get it; I know why. But it’s killing me.”

“It’s killing
you?
How do you think I feel, April? You’re the one who left.
You
kissed
me.
You fucked me
and then you left, dammit!
For him
. How the hell do
you think I feel?”

“It wasn’t for him, Kip.”

“What?”

“I didn’t leave to be
with Lex. I didn’t want to go. But Campbell called and said I had to. I was
under contract; what was I supposed to do?”

“You could have said no.
You could have waited until I got home and we could have made a plan together.
But you didn’t. You
chose
to leave. And don’t treat me like an idiot; I
know you still loved him. I could tell.”

April nodded slowly. “I
did love him. I
did
. But you were making things so much easier. Being
with you helped me forget. You made me laugh and smile. You fixed everything.”

Kip looked up at her
through thick, dark lashes. “Then why’d you have to break it again?”

April fixed her eyes on
the ground. She inhaled. “Hailey said you loved me...”

Kip nodded. “I did, yeah.
I do...But that doesn’t change what you did. Maybe that’s why I’m so pissed.
Maybe I thought you felt the same. And maybe I’m angrier at myself for being
stupid enough to believe that you loved me back. Maybe that’s why I’m so
pissed.”

“I
do
love you!
You’re my best friend.”

“That’s not the kind of
love I mean, April...You know that. The shitty thing is that you chose
him
and I knew what a snake he was from the beginning.”

“I didn’t go back for him
Kip, I promise. I went because Campbell told me I had to.”

At that moment a giant
truck and rig pulled up the driveway. Kip approached the driver as he stepped
out.

“How can we help you?”

“I have a delivery for...”
He checked his clipboard. “Ms. April Cooper.”

“From who?” April stepped
forward, reaching for the form.

“Mr. Alexander Mitchell.”

April looked at the horse
trailer. A man got out of the passenger seat of the truck and unlocked the back
door, stepping inside. April heard echoed footsteps, then a large chestnut
horse walked into the sunshine.

“Prime Time?”

She rushed to the horse’s
side, greeting him with a scratch on the forehead. The big horse dropped his
neck and nuzzled her stomach.

She led him back to Kip
as he was turning towards the lodge.

“Kip!” she shouted.

He turned around and
walked backwards away from her, holding his hands out sideways. “Didn’t go back
for him, eh? Give me a break, April.”

April watched him go
inside, dumbfounded. She began to shiver and knew Prime Time would be feeling
the cold.

“I’ll be right back,” she
said to the truck drivers.

She led the horse into
the barn. As she passed each stall, the Blue Haven horses stuck their necks
over the doors, sniffing the newcomer curiously. April stopped outside
Chinook’s.

“Hey boy, come meet your
new friend.”

Chinook stuck his nose
into the air and folded his lips back, tasting. Prime Time mirrored him and
April laughed. She noticed the chestnuts muscles quivering so she quickly put
him in the stall and grabbed a blanket from the tack room. She wrapped it around
him and did the buckles up, splashing in his water bucket to show him where it
was, then leaving him to settle in. She went back out to the delivery men.

The driver handed her a
form. She signed the bottom.

“And this is for you.” He
handed her an envelope.

As the giant truck drove
away, leaving behind a cloud of white, April ripped the letter open. Inside was
a small, white card. She flipped it over.

He is yours, after all.
He missed you.

April ripped the card up
and shoved it into her pocket. She trudged through the snow and ice and stepped
inside the warm lodge. Someone had lit a fire, and the interior of the building
had a golden glow. She took her gloves off and set them on the hearth, watching
a clump of snow melt into a puddle of freezing cold water on the stones.

April sat in the
armchair, tucking her feet underneath her and grabbing her book from the coffee
table. She found her marker and flipped to the page, continuing where she left
off.

The quiet felt nice.
Peaceful.

The silence was shattered
as Caleb rushed through the lodge door, sliding around the corner and into the
office, where April’s dad was working.

Her dad followed him back
out, shrugging on his jacket.

“What’s going on?” April
asked, closing her book.

“Caleb’s spotted those
mustangs that have been driving the herd off the ridge.”

“What mustangs?”

“Grab your horse; we’ll
explain on the way.”

As they rode along the
ridge, the sky dropped snowflakes down their backs. April’s head was protected
by her cowboy hat and she used the brim as best as she could to knock the ice
off low-hanging branches before it dropped onto her neck. Chinook shook his
head every time the snow landed on his mane, spraying the glistening drops into
the fresh powder either side of the trail. April glanced sideways at Kip,
riding beside her. Her dad and Caleb rode ahead, and Adam and Hailey brought up
the rear.

Kip ignored her, though
she knew he felt her gaze. She wished he would look up, just once, so that she
could smile at him. She missed seeing his smile.

The team rounded the
ridge and followed the steep mountain pass up onto the high point of the bluff.
The terrain was dangerous, and they usually didn’t risk it. But no-one had ever
seen the mustangs, just heard of them. Ranchers, however, had seen acres and
acres of good grazing land stripped bare by the wilds. Nobody had believed Old
Man Fred when he had come roaring into the town meeting in his truck,
complaining about the mustangs that had starved his herd; not until they too
had been victims themselves.

April knew her father
planned to capture these horses and ship them far away, probably splitting them
up, not caring where they ended up, just as long as it was far from Blue Haven.

April loved mustangs—something
so primitive and wild that it can withstand the harshest winter, and brave the
most scorching summer, ever surviving, ever thriving. There was something that
awakened inside of horses when they needed an extra push just to survive;
something magical, something magnificent. Chinook was half mustang and April
could tell he knew where his roots were. His spirit was that of a wild animal,
tolerating humans because he had befriended them, not because he had been
dominated by them.

That was why people said
that women couldn’t gentle mustangs; they were too proud, too hard headed. It
was said that they needed a masculine dominance in order to submit to the will
of a human. April had proved that wrong with Chinook; she didn’t want a
submissive horse. She wanted a horse that tested her boundaries, that spoke
back, and that questioned everything. She wanted to be challenged and she
wanted a willing partner, not an animal that resented you every step of the
way.

April’s dad stopped his
horse, holding his finger to his lips. Something was making a lot of noise
ahead of them, whinnying and snorting. Chinook’s head lifted; he could smell
something interesting.