Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted like that,” I say and step toward him, thrusting my hand out. “It’s good to see you again, Warren.”
He makes a face and shake my hand. “Please, keep calling me War. That name stuck, you know.”
“Suits you,” I say, and his palm is strong and dry and warm.
“Well, should we go take a look at the horse?” Ford asks.
“I’d like that,” War says, “but maybe Melody can take me alone. She’s the trainer, right? No offense, Ford, but I get the feeling you don’t know a thing about horses.”
“You’re not wrong,” Ford says with a laugh.
“She’s the head trainer and practically manages the whole place,” Kat confirms and glances at me. “Are you good with that?” Her expression suggests that it would be okay if I wasn’t.
But this is just a business deal and there’s no reason I can’t handle War on my own. Show him Bomber, put the horse through the usual paces, and be done with this. I can go back to my comfortable lies when War’s gone, like he was never here at all.
“Fine,” I say a little too brightly and unlatch the fence. “Come on in, I’ll take you over.”
“You sure?” Ford asks, eyebrows raised. “I don’t mind coming with.”
“Don’t get your pretty shoes dirty, Ford,” War says with an amiable grin and walks over to me. “Honestly, Melody’s an old acquaintance. We can catch up while we talk business.”
“Works for me,” Ford says. “We’ll just go over the paperwork and make sure everything’s in order.”
Kat steps out of the paddock and leans against her husband. He puts his arm around her protectively. They watch as I shut the gate behind War and begin leading him toward the barn. He walks alongside me, hands in his pockets, eyes glancing over like he’s waiting for me to say something, but suddenly all my words are lost and forgotten and gone.
I feel off-kilter, like the whole field’s suddenly tilted to one side. I left Jameson only a year after he did, well short of graduating. I don’t know what he ended up doing after and we didn’t keep in touch—my life took a weird turn and I worked very hard to distance myself from that entire existence, the beginning of all my stories—but seeing War again isn’t altogether terrible. It brings up a lot of ugly memories, but none of them have anything to do with him.
War was just a boy. A handsome, likeable, outgoing, troubled boy—but just a friend. We talked in math class, hung out in the hallways, shared jokes during gym, and yeah, there was some flirting, but it was the normal flirting all young kids with enormous and wild sex drives with no real outlet inevitably fall into. We were friendly, but our friendship never extended outside of school and that was always okay with me. Especially considering the rumors about him.
“You were hard to track down, you know,” War says softly as we approach the barn.
And I grind to a halt as his words pierce into my skull.
War turns to me, squinting in the sunlight, head tilted. His smile is gone. He studies me like he’s curious about something, like he’s trying to find a clue to a puzzle. I take a step back, heart racing again, that stick in my throat. I smell cut grass, animal musk, reeking old hay. I try to ground myself and keep from freaking out, but it’s not working.
“What do you mean, I was hard to track down?” I say very slowly, hoping that I’m misinterpreting him.
“I’ll admit, I’ve gotten my hands dirty doing some pretty ugly jobs over the years, but I don’t think I’ve ever had to walk into a barn before.” He makes a face and kicks some stray twine lying in the mud. “Seriously, Melody, you’re still into the horse shit? I figured you’d grow out of that.”
“War,” I say sharply. “What are you talking about? Were you—Were you looking for me? Is this some weird reunion? Are you even here to buy Bomber?”
“You named the horse Bomber?” He makes a face and I want to scream. He doesn’t even know Bomber’s name? “No, I’m not actually here to buy the horse.”
“But the paperwork—the proof—” I’m stuttering now, my brain glitching as I try to put this together. War looms over me, still not smiling, still staring into my face like he’s desperate to read my mind.
“All bullshit. All to get close to you.” He sighs and leans up against the wall, tilting his head back. His Adam’s apple bobs and his eyes stare down at me. “Honestly, Melody, it was a real pain in my ass, tracking you down. But imagine my surprise when you were hiding in plain sight under my good cousin Ford’s care?”
“I don’t understand. If you wanted to talk to me, you could’ve just—”