Page 51 of Adam's Rising

Claire rushed to fill the silence. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I —”

“It’s okay, Claire.” He rested a hand against her cheek. “I do need to go back. I’m just not ready.” He took hold of Buttercup’s lead. “Come on. It’s getting late. We better get a move on.”

Claire reached for the horn, and pulled herself up. Although she didn’t need help, she certainly didn’t complain when she felt Adam’s hand on her back.

As embarrassed as she was about her blunder, the feeling of his hand against her reminded her of some of the fantasies she’d had, staring at the ceiling until the wee hours.

Boyd had repeatedly pressed her for sex, but she’d never longed for him. Deep down, she’d always known Adam would be her first — and last.

He checked that Buttercup’s straps were tight, then climbed up on his horse. “Wanna lead the way? I haven’t been on the river trail yet.”

“Definitely.”

The ridingtrail ran parallel to the river, far enough back that the trees and brush created a natural screen, but Claire could hear the rushing water running over the rocks.

The first time she’d been on the trail, the guide explained that Clara Mae made sure the trail kept a respectful distance from the Little Su — not just for the river’s sake… because manure and glacier water didn’t mix, but also to avoid surprising any bears fishing for salmon along the shallows. “Even on horseback,” the young guide had patted her rifle, “you don’t want to make a grizzly look up from its breakfast and decide you look yummier.”

At a small clearing, Claire pulled back lightly on both reins. It was one of three clearings where felled trees allowed a view of the Little Susitna and, behind it, the rugged peaks of the Talkeetna Mountains.

Adam trotted up beside her. “The Little Su… Funny name for a river that could toss a moose like a rag doll.”

Claire smiled. “I agree. And I love the visual. Though, the moose probably wouldn’t like that.”

Adam laughed and clicked his tongue twice, taking lead on the trail.

Buttercup followed without Claire’s request, which was natural for her. She was a great trail horse.

Adam had always made Claire laugh, and she’d always defended him.

One of her earliest memories was watching Adam run to beat the school bell while other kids lulled around. They’d called him stripes — not to his face, of course, since his older brother was much larger than the bullies. Behind his back, though, they’d picked on the fact that he always wore striped shirts and because his parents shaved his head until he almost looked like Kojak.

It wasn’t until middle school that a few of the other girls started noticing him, when his brown hair had grown out with a bit of curl and a hint of bronze. And he must have talked his parents out of the striped shirts because he started wearing solid button-downs and even a few long-sleeved T-shirts. Claire had warned the girls back with a pointed glare. Adam might not have seen her or other girls in junior high, but she’d seen him. And she’d made it clear that Adam was hers.

Adam had been too busy helping his dad with the horses and taking school seriously to do much of anything else, one of the reasons his earlier statement had taken her off guard.

“Adam?” Claire called as they approached the next clearing.

“Whoa, Bolt,” Adam said.

Buttercup moved up beside him, then immediately started chomping on weeds. “I forgot you called him Bolt.”

Adam absently patted the side of Bolt’s neck. “Yeah, I can probably explain that away if I slip, though, since it’s not that unique given the lightning on his nose.”

“True.” Claire stared at the river again, lost in the scenery for a second.

“Speaking of nicknames…” Adam glanced over his shoulder. “Clara Mae and now Rusty, too, know my story. But if you call me Adam, it might raise questions around the others.”

“You’re right! I knew the moment I saw you, but I was so careful not to spill the beans. Even when Lala asked about thenew hand…” She made air quotes with one hand, keeping hold of Buttercup’s reins. “She actually said to me, ‘That’s Thomas. Didn’t you recognize him?’ I had a good laugh, believe me when I said, No, I didnotrecognize the new hand as Thomas.”

Buttercup crept forward, making her way to another set of weeds.

Adam jutted his chin forward. “You shouldn’t let her do that.”

Claire was confused. “You think I should have told Lala?”

Adam laughed harder than she’d ever heard. “Sorry,” he choked, wiping his eyes with the back of his shirt. “I meant Buttercup. You shouldn’t allow her to eat until you allow it. Bad habit.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.” She pulled up on Buttercup’s reins, and her horse rebelled, shaking her head. “Buttercup, no!” Claire reprimanded her, lightly pulling up again. “Yeah, she can definitely get stubborn, but she loves me. Besides, she knows there’s a treat up ahead. Save yourself, baby!”

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