Page 34 of Back in the Saddle

His eyes flicked to her profile, drawn to the thin silver lines on her cheek and temple.

She pressed her fingers to her cheek. ‘You’re looking at my scars.’

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.’

‘It’s fine. I used to be very self-conscious, tried to hide them under layers and layers of make-up. But I grew out of it. Or, rather, the dripping foundation doesn’t mix with working in hospital, especially surgical masks.’ She took her hand away, so he could look at them.

‘How did you get them?’

‘Car accident.’

Hunter’s blood froze in his veins. He inhaled sharply but his lungs didn’t want to expand to release the breath.

Caroline must’ve thought he was giving her space to talk, because she continued. ‘It was stupid, really. I was nineteen. I crashed into a stone wall in bad weather. Luckily, I only got a few scratches. Would’ve been worse if I’d been driving faster.’ She touched the scar again. ‘My car was a write-off. But these are the only physical reminder of that day.’

Hunter breathed in and out, taking time to remind his tongue how to roll words off it. His mind scrambled to come up with something to steady him. To remind him this wasn’t five years ago.

She’s all right. You didn’t even know her then. Everything’s fine.

‘Are you OK?’ She gently touched his elbow, deliberately this time.

He rolled his shoulders, walking to the first stall. ‘Yes, sorry. I’m glad you weren’t badly hurt.’

‘Me too,’ she said quietly, her pensive expression smoothing her features.

A bay horse stuck its head over the stall’s gate, nuzzling Hunter’s open palm. ‘This is Ringo Thunder. An ex-barrel gelding. He’s twenty-two years old.’ Hunter stroked Ringo Thunder’s mane with his other hand.

‘He’s beautiful.’ Caroline made a move like she was going to touch the horse but withdrew her hand. ‘How long has he been here?’

‘We got him in three months ago.’

Her eyes widened. ‘He raced for that long?’

‘There’s not really a set age for horses to retire. Some go out younger due to soundness, injuries or illness. But some can race well into their twenties, if they’re taken proper care of.’

Ringo Thunder snorted.

Caroline took a step back.

‘Don’t be scared. He’s a gentle soul.’ Hunter looked at her. ‘Do you want to touch him?’

She didn’t move a muscle. ‘I haven’t been around horses for over ten years.’

Hunter reached out a hand to her. ‘I promise he won’t hurt you.’ Their eyes locked and Hunter’s fingers tingled in anticipation. ‘I thought you came here to get back in the saddle.’

‘That was Anna’s idea.’

He flexed his fingers, extending his hand a bit further. ‘Don’t you miss it?’

Even though he didn’t elaborate, he could tell she knew exactly what he meant. It was as if a serene memory washedover her. Her green eyes glimmered in the patchy sunlight fighting to get inside the barn through the small windows near the roof. The dust motes danced between them, reflecting the browns and reds in her dark blonde hair.

If he could, he would take a mental picture to keep the image of this moment in the library of his memories so he could pull it out when he needed a reminder of something good.

Her fingers were cool as they touched his. A single lightning bolt shot right into his chest as she squeezed his hand.

‘OK. But if that horse eats my fingers, it’s on you. I haven’t quite ruled out surgery as a potential speciality so kind of need my hands.’

‘I hope you can think of more uses for your hands than medical ones,’ Hunter said.

---