Page 47 of Riding the Line
‘Since when?’
‘Since the rodeo.’ I make sure to catch Duke’s eyes, almost to add in,since you.He smiles, ducking his head shyly.
Wyatt chews on the inside of his lip, his stern eyes flicking about the scene before him. Somehow, I think I might have rendered him speechless – like he can’t quite believe I’ve done this. That I found some strength, and it has me lifting my chin higher, along with the way Duke’s watching me again, a smirk dancing on his lips.
‘I’m not sure I like this,’ Wyatt finally admits, folding his arms, brows still pulled together. ‘Doesn’t feel safe.’
Duke snorts beside him and says, ‘I don’t think that really matters right now, man. You’re a bit late – she’s already on the horse.’
Fliss and I giggle in response, and I widen my smile at Duke, that he’s willing to go against Wyatt, something up until the other night in the pool I was certain he’d never do. But clearly his resolve is weakening. What else might he go against Wyatt for now?
‘Doesn’t it worry you a bit?’ Wyatt turns to Duke. ‘You were the one who found her after her fall. Aren’t you …’Scared. He doesn’t have to say it, but I see it – in the way his muscles tense as he crosses his arms, the desperate shine to his eyes, the feathering of his jaw each time the horse shifts. An ache settles in my heart, and I realise that learning to ride again, even if it worries my family, is just as much for them as it is for me. If they can see me thriving, not cowering, maybe they’ll finally stop seeing me as a frail little girl.
‘I’ll be okay, Wyatt,’ I try to assure him, softening my determined expression. It’s hard to talk about my fall, but still I push the words out. ‘I didn’t have any warning when I fell before. But I know my triggers now, and I know when I can and can’t push myself. I’ve been looking after myself fine for the last few years and haven’t had a seizure in ages. Because I know me better than anyone else. And IknowI can do this.’
Huffing, Wyatt’s mouth forms a stark line. But he doesn’t argue back.
‘Besides,’ I start, my grin playing out. ‘If you’re soworried about me falling again, you could always send Duke out with me when I ride. He was the one that saved me the first time after all. He’s always looking out for me like a brother, right?’
The last question is a tease that has Duke’s eyes widening and tattooed neck working as he swallows. Because it’s only a matter of time before I break him, and we’ll be riding past this line that Iknowhe’s struggling to stay behind.
22
Duke
‘Do you remember that time I joked that you were a serial killer?’ Cherry asks as she hops out of my truck the next week, eyes warily scouring the slightly dilapidated barn ahead. ‘Yeah … you’re really living up to that today.’
Levelling her a look, I shut the truck door once she’s out of the way and snort. ‘We’re on Sawyer’s land still. It’s a short drive from the main ranch. Surely I’d be smarter than that.’
‘Or maybe this is just a ruse to make me think you’re not smart enough to be a serial killer, when really—’
‘Shut up and get walking.’ I give her a playful shove forward, not even overthinking the action for a few seconds before doing it like usual. Not excusing it as just a way to consolidate the idea that I’m her annoying friend. But just simply because it feels right.
To touch her.
I have no idea where the strong boundaries I’d put in place have disappeared to. Because today really hasnothing to do with Cherry’s bucket list, nor does she owe me a small moment, yet I still got Jeb to cover me at the bar tonight so I could steal her away for the afternoon.
‘What is this place, anyway?’ Cherry questions, angling her head as she reaches the door. I give the tight, rusty lock a pull, the scrape of metal echoing through the surrounding fields, then haul the sliding door along. It rumbles until it comes to a thud.
‘I like to call it my therapy barn,’ I joke, gesturing for Cherry to enter.
I flick on the lights. Bulbs buzz in the rafters as they illuminate the stacks of canvases on tables – the ones I’d done of Cherry hidden elsewhere – paint pots scattered amongst them, circled around two larger canvases upright in the centre of the barn. There are sheets below them to catch any paint even though there’s plenty of stains dotted around already. In the back of the barn, my two motorcycles sit, the light glinting off their black, shiny exteriors, emphasising every sleek curve and angle. I should probably cover them up but just seeing them calms my heart instantly.
‘Duke, this is … incredible.’ Cherry’s last word comes out on a breath. Her sneakers scuff against the floor as she skips further into the barn, exploring the whole set-up.
‘Sawyer offered it to me a few years back. They were gonna tear the place down – I can’t even remember what for – but I said I could find use for it.’ I press my lips together, trying to hold back the grin that really wants to explode at the way Cherry’s regarding me with the brightest of expressions. ‘I come here whenever I feel overwhelmed or … sad. It’s my safe space, I guess.Somewhere I can throw on my favourite music and paint out all my feelings.
Speaking of music, I fish my phone from my pocket and link it to the speaker on one of the tables, choosing Shaboozey’s latest album to play.
‘I, uh …’ I rub the back of my neck, joining Cherry beside the two large canvases. ‘I thought maybe after everything that’s happened in the last couple of weeks – good and bad – you might want to paint it out. Have some time to just create.’
‘I love that idea,’ Cherry admits, running her delicate fingers across some of the half-finished canvases piled on the tables. ‘College can kind of stifle my creativity sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the interior design projects I get to work on, but sometimes when it’s for an assignment, there’s parameters to what you can do and it can feel a bit forced. Not like when I worked on Sunset Ranch for Rory and Wyatt – I could just let my creativity flow there.’
‘I get that,’ I respond, knowing how impressive the transformation she assisted on for Sunset Ranch was. Those redecorated guest houses have Cherry’s keen eye for design written all over them.
‘I hope I get to work on more ranches or retreats wherever I end up working next year,’ she hums.
I perk a brow. ‘Not a lot of ranches in the city.’
