Page 42 of A Curse On Black Lake
She urges Sunny to step through, then stops. “What are you doing for dinner?” she asks.
“Honestly, I forget to eat, too tired to make something before I pass out,” I say.
“Well, we’re going to change that tonight. It gives us time for you to explain how we met and convince the Sheriff that we’re in some kind of secret relationship.”
“The fact that he saw you the other day helps support the alibi.”
“I guess it does,” she says, and gets down. I stand at her side, helping her drop the extra inches she wasn’t expecting. “Thanks,” she says, still holding my hand.
“No problem.” I quickly drop it and step away, giving her space.
Eliana stands on her tiptoes to undo Sunny’s bridle, and to my amazement, he dips his head so she doesn’t have to reach as shepulls it off. “I usually wait to pull that off until I get him into the paddock.”
“He won’t need it,” she says.
“What the hell is it with you and these animals?” I ask her.
She shrugs, gathering the ends. “I don’t know. I figured it out after my…” she trails off and looks away for a moment. “When I started living with Grams, she had the goats and the cow. Then she decided we needed a horse. They’ve always responded to me this way. She told me it’s because I straddle the line, and animals recognize it.”
“Straddle what line?” I ask her.
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear that,” she says.
I hum and unstrap the saddle girth. The saddle tips and I pull it off of Sunny’s back, hauling it to the tack room. I’m not going to push her to tell me something she doesn’t want to say, but I have to admit, I’m intrigued.
Before I step into the barn, she pats Sunny’s neck, and he follows her like a puppy to the paddock. As the sun sets, it lights a golden glow around her, and my chest does that weird thing again.
I miss my dad. He would like her, and for some reason that hurts even worse. I fell apart when he died, and haven’t been able to return to any semblance of the life I had since.
With Eliana so strangely in the picture now, I’m not so sure I ever will. It feels like everything is changing because of her.
After I put the saddle away, I go back out to get Eliana, and she’s leaning against the fence watching the horses graze. Her head tilts back with eyes closed like she’s trying to soak it all in, like she feels at peace when she hasn’t for long enough to forget what it feels like.
I recognize that look. When you don’t feel the grief for a second, for a brief moment, long enough you can breathe. Then, when you open your eyes, it’s whisked away an exhale later, and you go back to not being able to breathe right.
She stands up and turns around as if she’s been caught.
But I stay in the shadow of the barn, watching her from afar. It feels like there’s a link between us, dragging our souls together whether we want it or not.
Chapter sixteen
Eliana
“What’sourstory?”Iask him, pushing away my plate. We kept it simple, steak, potatoes, and some green beans I found in the fridge.
He takes a swig of beer and thinks about it. “Wyatt might not ask me about the extent of our relationship, but it would be surprising to him since I haven’t told him anything about it. And the first time he saw us together was over a month ago. The only reason thismightwork is because we keep to ourselves. We don’t go out of our way to converse with anyone.”
“Then how did we meet?” I ask him.
He looks at the wall, blinking, lost in thought. I know what that’s like, so I leave him to it. But the longer he’sgone,the sadder his eyes get, like he’s reliving his pain over and over again.
Reaching for his hand resting on the table, I squeeze it, and he blinks, refocusing on me before his gaze drops to our hands. I like the way his hand feels in mine, as if it’s meant to be there.
“What if we see each other when weneedeach other?” I suggest.
He grimaces, and my heart drops. I thought it was believable. “I don’t know if Wyatt will go for that. He’s known me for a long time. He’ll probably come and question you too. Ask you what we were doing.”
“Making s’mores,” I deadpan.
