Page 30 of Spur of the Moment
Lettie rolled her eyes, then turned to reach up for the handle. Instead of grabbing it, her hand missed, bracing on the frame of the door while her other hand landed on the leather seat.
“Lettie?”
From the side of her face, I could see her lips pale, her face draining of color before she hung her head. I grabbed her waist, steadying her as she swayed.
“Lettie, what’s wrong?” My voice was laced with concern as she stood there, quiet.
She swallowed audibly, noticeably trying to catch her breath. After a few moments, she shook her head, straightening herback and releasing the seat. I kept my hand on her waist in case she lost her balance again.
Her voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke. “Just got a little dizzy.”
“Have you been taking your iron?”
“Forgot them at the ranch. I was going to get some.”
She lifted her leg and set it on the step before pulling herself up into the truck. I took a step forward. “Are you going to be okay?”
She avoided eye contact with me, gnawing on her cheek as she nodded.
I reached to grab the seat belt and pulled it around her, buckling her in. I rested my hand on her thigh, gazing up at her. She stared straight ahead, refusing to meet my eyes.
I reluctantly pulled my hand away and closed her door before coming around the hood of the truck to get in on the driver's side.
Lettie was quiet the entire drive back to the hotel. She made no move to get out when I parked, allowing me to come around to her side and open the door for her. I held my hand out to help her out of the truck and she took it, accepting my help. Her hand was soft from years at college, but that was surface level compared to what her time away from the ranch had done.
She let go of my hand as soon as she had both feet on the ground and walked off in the direction of the hotel as I closed her door and locked the truck. I rushed to catch up with her asshe opened the door for herself this time. I slipped in behind her, staying close in case she got another dizzy spell.
I was trying to be there for her without overstepping. I saw firsthand in the past how she resented the way her brothers would baby her if anything seemed off. I could still care for her and respect her boundaries at the same time.
Unlocking the door to our room, she ignored Rouge’s pleas for attention as he jumped at her legs and beelined for the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I patted Rouge’s head and sighed. If space was what she wanted right now, I’d give it to her.
“I’m going to take Rouge out,” I said to her through the door. She gave no indication she heard me as the shower turned on.
Grabbing the leash, I hooked it to Rouge’s collar and grabbed the room key from where she tossed it on the desk, then headed outside.
I knew she didn’t want to talk about it and I wouldn’t force her, at least not right now. We had a good night and I wasn’t going to ruin it by bombarding her. Questioning her a million times about why she didn’t go to the pharmacy the moment she realized she forgot her pills wouldn’t do anything but start a heated argument.
Instead, I’d do the only thing I could right now. I’d show her I cared through my actions.
16
Lettie
Six Years Earlier…
Red’s back was sweating under my thighs as we trudged up the trail in the summer heat. With it being over ninety degrees and Callan, Reed, Beckham, and Bailey done with their chores for the day, we decided to go to the swimming hole.
It was a two mile trail ride to get there, and though I was used to riding bareback, my thighs were burning with the strain to stay on Red going uphill. Rouge was jogging alongside me, panting with excitement. He knew where this trail led and was blissfully aware that after baking in the afternoon sun, he’d be swimming in no time.
“I can’t wait to go back on the circuit next week and kick some ass,” Beck exclaimed. He, along with my other brothers and Bailey, had shed his shirt before we took off.
“You referring to kicking some bronc’s asses or opponents?” Bailey questioned.
“Both,” Beck said with a nod.
Beckham was on his sorrel gelding, Butters. We’d taken the horse in from an auction years ago, and Beck claimed him as his own. Even though he was traveling most of the year now, we kept him here for when he was home. Butters still got worked regardless if Beck was home or not. Some of Callan’s more experienced students got to ride him around the arena from time to time.
“Should’ve been a farrier. You don’t have to deal with any ass kicking,” Reed muttered.
