Page 34 of Every Single Wildflower
My heart thuds. Then it flutters.
Damn him.
“Why?” I question.
“Because she’s important to you.” His answer is so simple, and he stops brushing long enough to face me. His next statement makes my throat burn. “And you’re important to me.”
His eyes cast down to my sandals. “You might want to change your shoes.”
“What’s wrong with these?” I lift my feet one at a time.
He smirks. “We’re riding today.”
I squeeze the cup in my hand on instinct. The wordridingcausing that familiar fear to resurface. He’s not asking. “Maddox, no. I haven’t ridden since I...”
“Since you got hurt. I know.” He places the brush down on the bench beside Sugarfoot’s stall. “You know it wasn’t her fault. That rattlesnake was underneath her.”
“I know.” My voice strains.
Logically I know that. It was a freak accident. But I haven’t been able to get back on. I still love her. She’s still my horse. I just haven’t been able to ride again without a panic attack.
“I know you’re struggling with a lot of things right now.” His dusty boots bring him closer. “And I know you feel like you can’t trust anyone here. Obviously or you wouldn’t have left, but you can trust her.” He points back to the beautiful paint horse. “And I’d like to start building trust back with us. If you’ll let me.”
My heart can’t take it. I flicker my eyes to Sugarfoot, the horse that has listened to every heart break and life changing event that has ever happened to me. I then look to Maddox, seeing the obvious sign of hope in his eyes. It’s what softens the anger and the frustration I’ve been holding. He’s trying. Trying to do what, I’m not sure. Repair a friendship?
Taking a deep breath, I slowly retreat. “I’ll be back.”
The breath of relief that expels from his mouth is visible when I spin on my heels and leave the barn.
Chapter twenty-seven
Maddox
Sugarfoot is saddled and ready when I hear footsteps coming up behind me. Clyde limps inside, a cigar dangling from his mouth.
“It’s barely past noon, Clyde.” I chuckle.
“Well son, when you hit seventy years old, you can do whatever the hell you want to,” he grumbles.
He blows a puff of smoke before leaning up against Buster’s stall. Cooper’s horse. “You taking out Sugar?”
“Yeah. Me and Ivy,” I say as I untie her from the gate.
“Ivy, huh?” He sucks on the stick of tobacco, his eyes squinting. “So, I guess you’re finally doing something about that?”
I lift a brow. “About what?”
“You’re a straight shooter, Maddox.” He blows another puff of smoke. “I’ve seen how you look at her.”
Clyde and his fucking observation skills.
“Yeah? Well maybe you should be working instead of watching me old man,” I quip.
He laughs, deep and hoarse from years of smoking. “You’re gone for her.” He shakes his head, but his tone turns serious. “It’s ok to do things for yourself sometimes, son. We both know your brother wasn’t man enough to deserve her.”
Hell, I don’t deserve her either.
“But that boy never loved her.” He keeps talking. “Not like you do.”
