Page 12 of Unbroken

Eli closed the distance between us slowly, his eyes locked on mine and sending a shiver down the back of my neck. “When did I say I hated you? I don’t hate you, Fiona. Not even close.”

The air went heavy and silent, both of us seeming to wait for the other to fill in the blanks about what was changing in the atmospherebetween us. But I couldn’t name it, and the unspoken tension made me feel twitchy.

“Okay, good, good,” I said, turning away quickly so he wouldn’t see the flush spreading on my cheeks. “So, we’ve got a backstory. We can embellish as we go.”

“Yeah, speaking of that, can you reel it back a little when it comes to telling our story? You have a tendency to say the first thing that pops into your head. I mean, that’s why we’re in this predicament, right?”

I opened my mouth to argue against playing it safe, but then remembered that the last time I took a risk, it ended up getting me fired. I’d always lived my life listening to my gut, jumping on every opportunity without hesitating. In the past it had paid off, but now I felt as though I couldn’t trust myself to know the difference between leaping at an opening or tumbling off a cliff.

Eli strapped down a trail bag on the side of a saddle and glanced at me. “There’s that expression on your face again. I have no clue what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Why are you watching me?” I asked in a petulant tone, pushing down the doubt and shame that were clawing their way to the surface.

“Because we still have a shitload to get done, and the guests are due to arrive in about fifteen minutes. So, are you helping me or standing around and watching?”

“Ugh.” I huffed and flounced toward the tack room. “Fine, whatever you say.”

“There’s my girl,” Eli called after me in a joking tone.

I was about to whip around and say something sarcastic back but realized that being called Eli’s girl had a certain appeal.

Even if hewasbossy.

SEVEN

ELI

“Before we head out, just a few quick safety reminders,” I said, waiting for the two riders in the rear of the group to stop giggling with Fiona and focus on me. Thankfully, we were no longer ferrying the horses out to a starting point off property. That had been a logistical pain in the ass from the very beginning. “Excuse me, ladies? Just a couple more things, and then we can be on our way.”

Fiona stopped talking immediately and pointed toward me, but it took the two women at least another minute to quiet down. I frowned at Fiona. While I could appreciate her interacting with the riders and making them feel comfortable, we’d discussed how I preferred to start each ride by going over safety issues and making sure everyone knew the basics of horse riding. We hadn’t left yet and I’d already had to call her out. That was the opposite of beinghelpful. I shook my head subtly, hoping she would catch it, but she was beaming at all the other riders instead of looking at me.

“Folks, here’s my advice about horses,” Fiona said, raising her voice and leaning forward in her saddle so that everyone could hear her. “The front end bites, the rear end kicks, and the middle bit bucks. Watch where you park yourself.”

Everyone in the group laughed but me. I couldn’t help stewing about the fact that she seemed to connect with our guests better than I was able to manage. She certainly didn’t have to struggle to get their attention or to hold it. I’d muddled through public speaking class in school because I had to, but I never enjoyed it. It was a bit easier for me to interact with the other riders because I was surrounded by one of the things I was most passionate about: horses. Fiona made it look effortless with her easy-going smile and quick wit. Neither of which I had.

“Uh, that’s right,” I added with a forced smile. “You definitely need to be aware of your proximity to your horse at all times. But we also need to talk about trail safety.”

I launched into my prepared speech. I’d given it so many times that I could say it backward and forwards. I noticed that more than a few of the riders kept glancing at Fiona while I talked, as if they were waiting for her to chime in. Which she did, silently—translating what I was saying into silly pantomimes, like flight attendants do during the safety presentation.

Damn it, she was funny. And gorgeous. And there was something undeniably magnetic about her. I finished up and tried not to watch her too. Straightening up, I reminded myself that clowning around might be entertaining for some, but it wasn’t going to do anyone any good if they ended up injured. It was my responsibility to see that these people were safe, and I wasn’t going to let anyone keep me from doing that job to the best of my ability. Not even my infuriating partner.

“Okay, folks, that’s it for the important stuff. Any questions for me before we set off?”

“Oh, one last thing,” Fiona said. “Don’t forget that horseback riding is the only sport where your equipment can choose not to cooperate with you.” She paused for the laugh. “And that concludes the safety presentation for this flight,” Fiona said in an exaggerated customer service voice. “You are now free to move about the ranch.”

Everyone laughed, and I gave Fiona a tight smile. There was no way we’d be able to keep working together if she continued to undermine me. We set off on the trail, and everyone seemed to be in high spirits, except for me.

“So, has all this land always belonged to your family?” one of the riders—a gray-haired spitfire by the name of Maude—asked.

“It sure has,” Fiona said. “Who here knows the history of Poplar Springs?” She waited a couple of beats. “No one? Okay, then who knows about the Oregon Trail? And no, I don’t mean the video game.” Two people raised their hands and she nodded.

“Okay, good. For the rest of you, the Oregon Trail was a migration route for pioneers wanting to go west around-about the eighteen fifties. Starting in Missouri, pioneers traveling through Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado, Wyoming, and Idaho before eventually arriving in Oregon,” Fiona said. “Ho boy, I don’t know about you, but I feel saddle sore after only a few hours of riding. Can you imagine traveling thousands of miles?”

I looked over my shoulder to see Fiona dramatically shaking her head as the riders chuckled. “Well, along the way, some of the pioneers decided they didn’t want to keep heading west. I don’t know if it was illness, boredom, or a healthy fear of being attacked by people or animals, but some of those pioneers made camp near the Poplar Mountains, and then decided to stay. A number of descendants of those early settlers still reside here today, including my family. My great, great … great grandfather, Joshua Daniel Cafferty was one of the original settlers.”

As Fiona continued to talk, sharing the history of our town, I couldn’t help but be impressed with her knowledge. I’d vaguely remembered participating in Founder’s Day in elementary school, so some of what Fiona was sharing was familiar, but she made it seem far more interesting than old Mrs. Atkins—a cantankerous old shrew with a two-pack-of-smokes-a-day rasp who hated children.

“What about you, Eli? How long has your family been here,” Maude asked.

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