Page 57 of A Taste of Whiskey
He drove down and spotted Sasha standing in one of the paddocks with a horse. He parked by the barn and forced himself not to jog over for fear of startling the horse. He moved slowly, watching her. She stood in the middle of a paddock, holding a bucket as a horse ate out of it. As he neared, he heard her singing “Lean on Me” and was hit with memories of her singing that very song to Gus when he was a baby and Ezra had been newly separated and sleep deprived and had needed a helping hand with him. Like Ezra, Gus had always been drawn to, and comforted by, her voice.
When he reached the paddock, he realized Sasha wasn’t wearing a jacket, and her clothes and hair were drenched. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, but he didn’t dare move, for fear of jeopardizing whatever she was doing with the horse.
She continued singing but glanced over at him, and he realized she was singing with the same cadence, but her words were meant for him. “I’m going to be a little while longer. She’s just getting settled.”
He heard a tremble in her voice. How long had she been out there?
“Can I help? Do you want my jacket?” he asked as quietly as he could over the rain.
She sang, “No, thank you. I know we need to talk, but you should go.”
“I’d rather stay in case you need anything.”
“You’ll make her nervous,” she sang, smiling. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”
With a nod, he reluctantly headed back to his truck. As he drove away, instead of heading home, he drove into town. He may not be able to help with the horse, but he sure as hell could take care of her afterward.
SASHA TEXTED HIM an hour and a half later.
Sasha:Hi. I just finished. I’m heading home.
Ezra gathered the things he’d bought and an umbrella and climbed into his truck, heading toward the barn. Sasha was trudging up the hill, her arms crossed over her chest, like she was hugging herself. He pulled over, grabbed the umbrella, and jogged across the grass to meet her. She looked at him a little warily. After the way they’d left things that afternoon, it was no wonder. She probably thought he was going to try to force the subject. But that could wait.
“You didn’t have to come get me,” she said as he fell into step with her, holding the umbrella over both of them.
“And here I thought I might get bonus points for being chivalrous. Let me warm you up.” He handed her the umbrella and put his arm around her, pulling her against his side as they headed for the truck.
“You definitely get bonus points.”
“What were you doing with that horse, and why weren’t you wearing a rain jacket or at least a hat?”
“I was wearing a jacket, but she’s a rescue named Posey. She’s blind and super anxious. She was dropped off a few hours ago, and she’s not halter trained. I needed to get her to trust me enough to let me put a halter on her, and she was afraid of the noise my rain jacket made, so I took it off.”
“Were you out there singing to her the whole time?” He opened the passenger door and helped her in.
“Yeah. I was trying to get her to eat out of the bucket. Singing is soothing, and it gave her an auditory clue as to where I was.” She told him how she’d put the halter in the bucket and had eventually gotten it on the horse.
“That was smart thinking. I’m glad it worked.” He went around the driver’s side and climbed in. “You probably don’t remember, but you sang that song to Gus when he was a baby.”
She turned those gorgeous, tired hazel eyes on him. “Actually, I sang it to both of you, because you kept apologizing for asking me to help, and everyone needs someone to lean on now and again.”
“You pulled us through some rough times.”
She shook her head. “I did what any friend would.”
“Well, we were lucky you were there to help.” He drove to her cabin and parked out front. “Now it’s my turn to repay the favor. I brought a few things to help you warm up.” He reached behind the seat for the bag of goodies he’d bought and handed it to her.
She peeked into the bag. “Hot chocolate, whipped cream, mini M&M’s.” Her gaze flicked briefly to his. “Soup? Bubble bath, and…What arethese?” She reached into the bag and pulled out the pink fuzzy socks he’d bought her. She touched the material to her cheek. “They’re so soft.”
“Those are for your cold feet.”
“How did you know my feet were cold?”
“Because you said you weren’t sure we should keep seeing each other.” He cocked a brow. “If that’s not cold feet, then I don’t know what is.”
“Ez,” she said softly, her brow arched. “As much as I hated bringing it up, I was serious. I’m worried.”
“I know, and I want to talk about it, but you’ve had an exhausting night. Why don’t you let me draw you a hot bath, and while you’re warming up, I’ll make you some soup or hot chocolate, or both. Then I’ll take off, and we can talk another time.”
