Page 15 of Forever & Again
“So, tell me, Lizzy,” Oliver ignored the glare Sarah flashed in his direction at his unapproved use of the pet name. “Would you say Lady Rockwell's disdain for me is chronic, or merely acute?”
Sarah shook her head with a slight laugh. “What happened?”
“An attempt at chivalry gone spectacularly awry.”
“You don’t strike me as the chivalrous type,”
“I am experimenting,” Oliver replied. “It is going terribly.”
Sarah laughed again, but she tilted her head slightly as if she were studying him. Oliver plucked a few blades of grass in an attempt to avoid her gaze.
Matthew always talked about how Grace could read a man’s deepest secrets just by looking into his eyes—which was surely just an exaggeration—but the way Sarah was looking at him now made him feel like she could see things about him even he wasn’t aware of yet.
“I am trying to be civil,” Oliver said sincerely. “But it does not seem to matter, because Grace seems determined to despise me.”
“Grace does not despise you, Oliver,” Sarah said gently. “She simply does not know you.”
Oliver gave a low, humorless chuckle. “I am quite convinced that she does not want to.”
“She is still finding her footing.” Sarah continued, carefully. “There are days she barely knows how to trust the ground beneath her, let alone someone new.”
Oliver nodded, his gaze fixed on the croquet lawn. The sound of the mallets hitting the balls reminded him of the thoughts he kept trying to knock into place, only to watch themveer off in directions he hadn’t intended. “I do not want to add to her discomfort or her pain. I would ease it, if I could.”
“I know that,” Sarah whispered. Oliver glanced up, surprised by the certainty in her voice. “I know your heart, Oliver.” She continued. “Not because you show it easily, but because Matty trusts you.” Oliver blinked, caught off guard by her assessment, but even more so by how he didn’t feel the need to hide from her.
Sarah smiled and leaned over to pat his arm. “Be patient with her. I promise she’s worth it.” Somewhere across the field, a croquet ball cracked hard against a stake, and a small chorus of cheers arose. Oliver leaned back, his palms pressing into the cool grass. “I hope you’re right, Sarah.”
“I usually am,” Sarah said, her smile almost as bright as the sun that was starting to work its way through the leaves of the tree that shaded them. For the first time that afternoon, Oliver smiled too. Not a smirk, and not deflection, but a real smile that reached into the hard, locked-up parts in his chest.
Chapter Seven
The smell of hay and warm leather wrapped around Grace the moment she stepped into the stables at Somerton. It was probably foolish for her to walk the whole way from the Rutherford estate unaccompanied, but once she had started walking, she couldn’t stop until she was as far away from Oliver Blackburn as possible.
She wiped the sweat from her brow as she walked further into the stables, letting the cool breeze, floating from the open doors, wrap around her.
The horses shifted in their stalls, their soft puffs of breath and the occasional hooves thumping against the floor were the only sounds breaking through the quiet stillness. Dust floated through the golden shafts of light that poured through the high windows.
Benjamin had loved the stables. He had spent long afternoons with the horses at Edenfield, tending to them with the same easy affection he had shown everyone he loved. Grace could almost see him leaning against the door of a stall, his sleeves rolled up and laughing as though the world was incapable of carrying any darkness.
She moved slowly down the row, trailing her fingers along the wooden doors. Each step felt like she was walking through water. Part of her wanted to cling to the memory of him and hold it close until the ache it left behind burned her hollow.
Grace’s family had bought the estate neighboring the Weston’s when she was 6 years old. Sarah had instantly become her best friend, and Benjamin never complained when two young girls insisted on tagging along on every adventure he embarked on—she was quite certain he even invented a few of them solely for their benefit.
As the years went by, her admiration for Sarah’s older brother slowly turned into affection. By the time she was 14, she was entirely and completely in love with him, and when she turned 16, he confessed he felt the same way for her. When she was 18 and presented into society, Benjamin was the first caller at her door with an arm full of flowers and a formal request of courtship.
She spent the next two years, blissfully happy, on the arm of the only man she had ever loved and the only one she saw her future with. Everyone knew they would marry someday; it was just simply matters of estate that prolonged their plans. Once Robert Weston had started the transfer of Somerton into Benjamin's name, he had proposed. The life Grace always knew she would live started falling into place, and their wedding had been set for the week after Christmas.
When his horse slipped on a patch of ice on Christmas Eve, Grace didn’t only lose Benjamin, she lost the only version of herself she had ever known.
Who was she if not his?If she allowed herself the freedom to find out—if she learned to live and love again—what did that say about the love she had lost? Did healing mean letting Benjamin slip further away? Did laughter mean betrayal to the joy she felt when she was by his side?
“I miss you,” she whispered. The horses shifted again, as if somehow sensing the heaviness in the air. Grace closed her eyes, wishing she could stay in the silence forever—where his memories and love still lingered like the dust in the sunlight. But somewhere beyond the stables, life went on, and whether she wanted it or not, it was pulling her along with it.
A lump rose fast in her throat, so thick she almost choked on it. She turned back towards the stable doors but stopped cold at the sight of a familiar chocolate brown stallion.
Grace had once stated that all horses looked alike, but Benjamin insisted that once you got to truly know an animal, you could recognize their soul by looking into their eyes. There must have been some truth in what he said, because there was no mistaking the sad, dark eyes that now held Grace captive.Champion.
She took a few steps back until she felt herself press up against the wall. Her gaze stayed locked on Benjamin’s horse as she breathed in deeply, willing the tears to stay inside.
