Page 52 of Catching Sparks

Everyone claims it to be a peaceful place, but until now, I never believed them. The ranch once the sun goes down couldn’t be further from how it is in the daylight. Even the frogs in the man-made swamp nearby don’t croak as I continue down the gravel road, the window cranked down and the cool breeze keeping me from falling asleep at the wheel.

I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t given this place a fair shot. Not in the slightest. Because if I did, I fear I may enjoy it a bit more, and that’s the last thing I need. I may continue to come across as an uncaring bastard, but I’ve never liked taking risks with my personal life. Anytime I have, I’ve been left with broken trust and a heart in tatters. I’m shaken up enough already, my thoughts too focused on the woman I just left to contemplate this heavy shit in the middle of the night.

I just want to go to bed. Exhausted thoughts have never done an ounce of good to anyone.

Once I’ve successfully made it through the ranch and step out of the truck onto the gravel pad driveway in front of the guest house, I jump. The truck door shuts louder than I intended, but I’m too focused on the steady clopping of hooves on the road behind me to care. The dark-as-night mountain of a horse stares at me as he moves closer, completely alone, no rider atop his back.

I grow tense, my lack of knowledge on these animals more important now than it was two minutes ago. The horse, Kip, I remember them calling him, continues to move closer before stalling a few feet from me. The pure black colour of him is terrifying, especially with his dark, sharp eyes. He’s the only horse here this colour that I’ve seen, as if Wade chose him for that reason alone. Although, I’m certain he chose this horse because he’s a scary son of a bitch.

He doesn’t look angry right now, however. His ears twitch as he watches me, and I dart my gaze to not look him directly in the eye. I can’t imagine that it’s smart to stare down a beast that could barrel into me at any moment.

I shift on my feet, focusing on the strong line of his shoulder and the lack of any sort of saddle. The lack of anything.

“Hello,” I say carefully. His ears twitch again, so I continue. “Something tells me you’re not supposed to be out here right now.”

He takes a few steps forward, the distance between us shrinking quickly. I fight against my instincts to turn and run. He’d probably chase after me, and I’d wind up face first in the mud.

“How did you get out of the stable?”

I roll my eyes at the stupid question. Was I expecting him to speak?

“You’re going to make me go get Wade, aren’t you?” I ask instead.

Kip stops walking when he’s close enough to sniff me. He does it a few times before I gain the courage to offer him a shaky hand. I hold it between us in offering, and a beat later, he smacks my palm with his nose and sniffs loudly.

“A bit aggressive there,” I mutter.

He disregards my comment and pushes harder against my hand. After another noisy sniff, I let my fingers stretch past his wet nostrils and over soft black hair. I only touch him there for a moment before shifting to cautiously touch his neck. When he doesn’t immediately kick my ass, I scratch softly along the muscled area.

“You’re still terrifying, even if you like to be scratched.”

Kip continues to stare past me, allowing me to pet him, so I keep at it. My pulse is slowing, the shake in my hands steadying. Minutes pass as we stand there, silent, my eyes heavy enough I have to blink them profusely to keep them open. The lack of horns honking and police sirens out here is as startling as it is relieving. The sky is clear and littered with stars, not a building to be seen. I never knew how nice it could be to just . . . stand outside like this.

Something tall and strong props against my shoulder when I start to sway with exhaustion, and I startle when I realize Kip’s stepped closer, letting me lean against him.

I clear my throat. “I need to get Wade.”

Kip twists his head and releases a high-pitched noise that drops to a deep purr before cutting off. My brows tug in. I’ve heard the noise a few times while I’ve been here, but not up close like this.

“The hell are you doin’ out here, boy?”

The shout comes from behind me, and I push away from Kip’s side to find Wade stalking up the road. He’s wearing a wrinkled plaid shirt and loose sleep pants tucked into his boots, clearly having woken up recently. It’s alarming to see him without a cowboy hat on. He’s got a shit ton of hair for an old guy.

“He came up to me when I got back. I was going to come get you, but?—”

He cuts me off, but his words are more alarmed than angry as he asks, “Do you know a damn thing about horses?”

“No.”

There’s the slightest tip of his chin as he comes up on Kip’s other side and confidently pats his neck. “Be at the stables at seven thirty tomorrow. If you’re late, you can go back to the shop.”

“What?”

“Are you deaf now?”

I let out a rough laugh and reluctantly drop my hand from Kip. “No. But I just told you I don’t know anything about horses. Why would I go to the stables? How did you even know he was out?”

Wade watches me over Kip’s back, his eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them, and that’s saying something. He’s glared at me almost every single time we’ve spoken.

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