Page 40 of Dove
I slid my arm from her front, flipping the hazard lights on and shifting into park, not caring that I’d stopped in the middle of the road.
“Dove?” I twisted so I could look her over. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Her focus remained forward, on the road, as if I hadn’t said anything at all.
My heart clench as I realized what was going on, remembering what she’d told me long ago; about her dad’s death, and how she’d been in the car with him that day when it happened. I wasn’t an expert, but I could imagine the abruptness of the car stopping and the screech of the breaks might have triggered her post traumatic stress disorder, something she’d been struggling with since she was a little girl. I’d never seen Dove like this before, so I wasn’t exactly sure what I was supposed to do, but I’d damn well let her know I was here to help her through it.
“Hey,” I softened my voice. When that did nothing to capture her attention, I tentatively placed my hand on her knee. The skin there was warm and bare, thanks to the shorts she decided to wear, the same pair that had been torturing me since I’d beenback. But that was the last thing on my mind. The only thing I could think about was getting that terrified look off her face.
“Dove.” I squeezed her knee. It was a small success when her watery gaze finally shifted down, focusing on where my hand rested along her leg.
“We’re okay. You’re okay,” I murmured, trying to soothe her fear. “Just some asshole who doesn’t understand traffic laws.”
Slowly, so slowly, the color started to come back to her face. She licked at her dry lips, blinking, as if she was finally realizing where she was.
“I—” Her husky voice cracked. I wished I had a water bottle to offer her.
A car honked obnoxiously behind me, and I glared through the rearview mirror as if it would deter them from their impatient road rage.
I gave her leg one final, firm squeeze. “You okay?”
She nodded slowly.
Unwilling to stop touching her, I leaned over to grab her seatbelt with my other hand, fighting the urge to brush my lips across hers as the proximity brought us even closer. Once I had her buckled in, I leaned back into my seat and shifted into drive, accelerating slowly. A few seconds passed before I reluctantly slipped my hand from her knee to turn off the hazards. I mourned the loss of the touch, but not for long—she caught my retreating hand and held it, curling her fingers over mine, placing it back where it had been.
Her hand was warm where it rested on mine, and I didn’t think it could feel any better, that is until she maneuvered her hand so she could thread our fingers together.
My heart clamored instead my chest, and the urge to turn my head and gape at her was strong, but I kept my eyes forward, my attention on the road, not wanting any more incidents like before. When the urge grew to strong, I risked a glance, only tofind her gaze focused on me instead of out the window, with a subtle, tentative smile curled on her lips.
12
DOVE
Then
It was late, the sky so dark it was a midnight canopy of bright stars gathered around an even brighter moon. Fireflies blinked lazily across the backyard, winking on and off encouragingly as I internally debated what I was about to do from my seat on the porch steps.
Sleep was still somewhat of a tenuous friend, even after all these years, and when I’d laid down tonight, all I could do was toss and turn, despite the long day I’d had at school and even longer evening helping Gareth fix an overheating issue on one of the older tractors.
He’d come into the stable, where both Josh and I had been companionably mucking stalls, a tedious daily chore assigned to me, but one I didn’t mind because Josh always made it a point to help me, his presence welcome even during the messiest of duties. It went quicker that way, and I think that’s why he’d started helping me instead of doing his own work. Where we use to have only a few old mares, left over from Gareth’s father, we now had several new additions.
Gareth was on a kick of buying green horses—ones that needed training—so he could sell them once they were tamed, ready for the hands of newly-country folk.“City slickers,”he called them. “Everyone wants a horse for their kids nowadays,” he’d told us when the first one arrived, skittish and wary. “It’s the new puppy on Christmas Day.”
I hadn’t had much to say to that, not understanding how a nine hundred plus pound creature could be deduced down to a simple holiday present, not when they required so much attention, patience, and care. Josh must have felt the same, because his eyes hardened and his mouth thinned into a subtle, disapproving line. I knew he was probably upset that his father was pandering to the craze for some quick cash.
Gareth had, of course, tasked their handling to Josh. Just one more thing piled onto his plate. An order his son accepted quietly, obediently, with nothing more than an acquiescent nod. I’d never once seen Josh raise his voice or push back against the orders he was given—but in this case, I felt like he should have. He was in his final year of school. He was supposed to be enjoying his senior year. Instead, he was too busy working through a chore list twice as long as mine.
So, when Gareth had entered the stable earlier today, and Josh grew tense beside me, I knew he was waiting, preparing himself for whatever his father was undoubtedly about to burden him with.
“Dove.” Gareth’s voice carried across the earthen floor, his boots landing in quiet thuds. “Want to come oversee a tractor repair with me? Old Blue’s been acting up, and I’ve got to open ’er up and see what’s going on. Could use the help.”
Ask your son!I answered in my head, wishing I could utter the words aloud. But Gareth neveraskedJosh, only everordered, and it was rare to see them working together on anything. It was as if Gareth avoided his son, tolerating hispresence only when it was unavoidable. I had no idea why, and I didn’t dare ask Josh, or even my mom, who was likely to go to Gareth and tell him I noticed the chilly air between them.
No, I only observed silently.
And what I saw was the rigid line of Josh’s back, and the too-tight grip he kept on the pitchfork in his hands. It had me itching to decline, to offer Josh’s services instead. I honestly had no interest in learning about the tractors, unless it was Josh’s patient voice in my ear explaining things to me. He always made it interesting and fun, as if learning how to farm was something more than necessity.
But I knew offering up Josh wouldn’t result in the father-son bonding I hoped for. He’d just end up doing it alone, Gareth finding somewhere else to be. Although Josh would end up doing this task alone if I went, too. But I knew how awkward it would be for them both if I declined, and how Josh would likely find it a betrayal if I pushed this on him, so I picked the lesser of two evils.
