The Wild Ones (27 page)
Jackass!
I thump the steering wheel. There’s nothing I can do about any of it now. I think that makes it even harder. I had my chance. And I blew it. Damn it! I blew it!
I see the sign for the road coming up and I slow to make the turn. As I navigate the many potholes in the gravel drive, I picture what it would look like paved with the trees overhead trimmed and arching over it.
The drive ends in a circular patch of grass and weeds. I shift into park and turn off the engine. I can hear nothing but nature on the other side of my open window.
Some months ago, someone had cleared the land for a home site, but the bank foreclosed before they could build. I can see their vision, though. In my head, I see a huge plantation-style house in solid white with big columns along the wraparound porch. I see Cami planting flowers along the walkway, even though I have no idea if she’s into that sort of thing. She just seems like she would be.
Cami’s all girl. And I love that about her. She’s at home in the saddle and she can wear a kick-ass hat and boots with the best of ‘em. But underneath, she’s all soft and feminine, silk and satin.
I think of her stripping in front of me the night we went swimming, of seeing those lacey little things she was wearing. I can still see her body with perfect clarity. And I can still remember exactly what it feels like under my hands, under my lips, under my body. It starts making me hard so I have to resituate in my seat and think about something else.
I get out and walk past the clearing and through the woods beyond it to the first of several fields on the property. I imagine what the stables would look like sitting at the edge, and the round pen and the fencing. I can see Cami and me exercising the one year-olds and stopping to go roll in the hay. Literally.
Shaking my head, I make my way back to the truck. If I’m ever gonna get over her, I have to stop picturing her in my life, as part of my future.
But damn, how do I do that?
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE- Cami
“It’s been almost two months, Cami. You can’t hide out forever. Come out with me. It’ll be fun. Just the two of us. We can go to Lucky’s and you can drown your sorrows in peace. I know for a fact they won’t be there.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“I asked Rusty.”
“What happened to his restriction on not talking about us, about not getting involved?”
“I used some very powerful tools of persuasion. One of which nearly gave me whiplash.”
I have to laugh. “God, Jenna. You’re such a freak.”
“Yeah, pretty much. It’s part of my charm.”
And that’s probably very true.
“I don’t know. I just don’t feel like going out, especially there.”
“Look, Cami, it’s kind of like having a massive hangover. Sometimes the only thing that’ll take care of it is a little hair of the dog that bit you. Consider a trip to Lucky’s some hair. And it’s even highly likely that there will be quite a few dogs there, too. Just not the four-legged kind.”
“If that’s what you think, then why do you even want to go?”
“Well, I have Rusty, so I could care less what the guys look like, as long as they keep buying me drinks. The main thing is to get you out of the freakin’ house. I’m seriously afraid that you only shower once a week and that you haven’t shaved your pits in, like, a month.”
“Geez, Jenna. I’m not that pathetic. I shower twice a week.”
“Holy wow, I hope you’re kidding!”
I snicker. “Of course I’m kidding. How long have you known me?”
“Since Jesus was a baby.”
“And how many days in my entire life have I not bathed?”
“Two,” she says definitively.
“What?”
“I don’t know. I was guessing. Not that it matters. What matters is that you need some fun. And some drink. And some hair of dogs and crap like that. And as your best friend, it’s up to me to make sure you get it, even I have to force-feed it to you. You can either come quietly or I will have to start plotting. And you know how that usually turns out.”
“Yes. With someone missing their eyebrows.”
“Exactly, so just say you’ll come and save me the embarrassment.”
I sigh. “Fine. I’ll come. What time will you be here?”
“Nine. And wear something hot. Your confidence needs the boost.”
She hangs up and I’m left wondering how she knows that.
********
I slide back onto my barstool, pushing my hair away from my face. I wish I’d worn it up. Dancing makes me hot.
I signal the bartender for another beer just as Jenna settles in beside me.
“You’re not done already?”
“Just for a few minutes. I’m burning up.”
“One beer and then we’re going back out there.”
“What is this? Death by dancing?”
“Nope. It’s called therapy. Jenna style.”
She picks up my beer just as the bartender sets it down and takes a huge gulp.
She looks over my shoulder and her eyes widen a tad. Smiling innocently at me, she blurts, “I gotta pee. Be right back,” and then she slides off her stool and takes off.
My heart starts pounding when I wonder who she saw behind me that made her react in such a way. Almost every part of my heart and soul, along with several body parts as well, are hoping and praying that it’s Trick she spotted. Even though it will be so hard to see him, especially if he’s with someone else, at this point, I just want to see him. Watch him walk, see him smile. Watch him drag his fingers through his hair in that way that he does.
Before I turn around, I close my eyes. I’m preparing myself, trying to stop the butterflies of nervous excitement from making me puke all over the bar. I’m convinced I’ll see Trick.
But I don’t.
The earth-shattering let down, the crushing of that tiny seed of hope is almost more than I can take. My throat closes up around an invisible fist of disappointment. I try to swallow past it, but can’t.
Brent is standing a few feet from my barstool, staring at me. I try to offer up even a polite smile, but my lips tremble around it and I know it looks as pathetic as I feel.
“Excuse me,” I mutter as I scoot off my stool. I head for the bathroom, but when I get there, I keep right on going. Right out to the parking lot, to Jenna’s car. There’s no hope of salvaging the night now.
I’d rather just die instead. Get it over with.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO- Trick
It’s coming up on three months. I think I’ve gotten up every day since I left Cami’s house and thought to myself, “This is the day. This is the day she’ll change her mind and give us another chance.”
Today, I wonder if she ever will. I wonder if I’ll ever get the future that I’d begun seeing as reality more than fantasy.
Today, it feels less likely than ever before.
And I hate that feeling.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE- Cami
Daddy’s droning on and on about the purse for one of the larger state races coming up and what he plans to do with the money.
I know I should be paying closer attention, and I genuinely try to focus on him when he’s talking. The problem is, I seem to have lost all interest in pretty much anything lately. I feel like I’m being sucked into a downward spiral that has no end in sight. Daylight and hope and happiness get farther and farther away with every sun that sets.
I think in some small way, I expected Trick to come back. I expected him to change his mind, to hear from his mom that I was there and suddenly decide he can’t live without me.
But it seems like that is never going to happen. And I’m left trying to make some kind of life for myself without him.
The thing is, I don’t think I’m interested in a life without him. Sometime when I wasn’t looking, Trick became everything I want out of my entire existence. Without him, I just don’t know what’s left.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR- Trick
When did nights get so long? Probably when I started waking up thinking about Cami. Every time it happens, which is more and more often lately, I can’t go back to sleep because of this miserable ache that won’t leave me alone. So I lie in bed and remember and wish and curse and get angry. Then I think about all the things I wish I’d said, all the things that might’ve made a difference. But even still, I can’t go back to sleep. And then the cycle repeats itself.
I’ve thought several times about downing a fifth of something before bed, enough to drown out all thought, especially those of Cami. But for some reason I can’t bring myself to do it. I think the problem is that I don’t really
want
to drown her out. Memories and wishes are all I have left.
And I’m not ready to let them go yet. If I ever will be.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE- Cami
I wonder if I look as determined as I feel. I decide from the look on Sooty’s face that I probably do. I march right past him, down the main corridor of the stable and stop in front of Lucky’s stall. I yank open the door and start to walk in. But then I stop.
Tears fill my eyes like they have every other time I’ve tried to go see him. Leaning up against the wall, I give in to the urge to cry, just like I have every other time I’ve visited the stall. I can’t seem to help it. And I’ve tried. Dozens of times. But all I can see, all I can think of and hear and feel and smell is Trick and the night we spent together when Lucky was born.
How can the best day of your life also be the worst? I’m tortured by the memory of Trick giving in to me, to what we shared, and yet I can’t stop thinking about it. Not even long enough to visit Lucky without having a hysterical tear-fest.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX- Trick
The weather is noticeably cooler as I put Rags through his paces. He’s made even better progress than what I’d anticipated. And I’m pleased. Really pleased. But it seems a more hollow victory than I’d imagined it would be. I’ve been dreaming of this day for a long time—the day I’d be breaking and training my own horse, laying the groundwork for my own future, finally getting back some control of my own life. Why isn’t it everything I’d dreamed it would be?
I didn’t realize until I lost her how much I’d included Cami in my thoughts, my hopes, my plans. My happiest daydreams.
Although it didn’t start out that way, it hadn’t taken me long to think of her as being a part of this whole taming-a-wild-horse process, of her cheering me on and being continually amazed by my horse-whispering prowess. I smile as I think of her laughing and rolling her eyes over my humongous ego when it comes to my confidence in Rags.
That smile dies when the image of her fades away.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN- Cami
I usually love it when summer starts melting into fall. I love the colors and the cooler air, the excitement of football season, which my father has always loved, too. There’s always a break in the racing season if the ranch is racing a horse for the year and, if not, it’s turning into buying season for people who want to make the following year’s races.
Then come the holidays. Thanksgiving and Christmas, followed by the New Year. New plans, new horses. More training, more breeding. It’s a cycle I’ve been through half my life.
And I’ve always looked forward to it.
Until this year. It seems like even the best, most exciting things about life have lost their luster. I can only hope it’ll come back. One day.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT- Trick
“I don’t know why you didn’t just let me drive. Even that piece of shit I’m working on now would be a better ride than this thing.”
Rusty hasn’t stopped complaining since we left his shop.
“So what you’re saying, since
you
helped me fix this truck, is that you do crap work. Is that it?”
“I do great work. I’m just saying that…it’s a truck. They can only be so comfortable. A car would be much better for a ride like this.”
“A, it’s not that far. And B, I’m getting the word out. Since I got the logo magnets for the doors, I’m like a driving advertisement for equestrian awesomeness.”
After I sold the Mustang, I felt pretty guilty, like I’d betrayed Dad or let him down, even though he did it first. He did love that car and he wanted me to have it. But financially, I just couldn’t justify keeping it when selling it would help so much.
I don’t feel quite as bad now, though. I used the logo from the top of the Ferrier’s kit, the one with the horseshoe and my initials, for my new venture, my new life. Even if I don’t always feel like an official champion Quarter horse breeder, at least I can start looking the part. All I’m lacking today is the horse trailer I bought to pull behind. It’s outfitted with the logo, too.
