Page 9 of Knot what I want for Christmas
“Good to have you here, Hollie,” he says.
He’s still holding my hand, and if I’m honest, I’m not really sure I want him to let it go, but I remember I’m not here to ogle at alphas. I’m here to mend my broken heart and try to forget why this Christmas could possibly be the saddest of my life.
I motion at the horse he’s just led into the barn. “Who’s this?” I ask him.
“Ah,” he says, strolling back toward the horse and beckoning me to follow him. He strokes his hand affectionately down the horse’s long, gray neck. “This is Jane,” he says.
“Jane,” I repeat. “That’s an unusual name for a horse.”
“It’s after my favorite author,” he says.
I frown. I don’t recall the name of any famous thriller or crime writers called Jane.
“Jane Austen,” he says.
I try not to let my jaw hit the floor. An alpha – an alpha who likes Jane Austen, who likes Jane Austen so much he’s named his horse after her.
“Is that a joke?” I ask.
“Why would that be a joke?” he asks me, frowning right back at me.
“Er, nothing,” I say. “She’s a beauty.”
“Yeah, best horse a man could have,” he says, patting her neck. “She’s worked hard today. Time for a rest.” He unhooks the reins and leads her to one of the empty stalls.
“Hollie’s absolutely nuts about horses,” my best friend tells the alpha.
I go to open my mouth to argue, but Nash beats me to it. “Then we’ll have to take you out riding with us. Show you a bit of the countryside. In my opinion, it’s the most beautiful there is.”
“But you’re not from here originally,” I say. His voice has a more southern twang.
“Yeah,” he says. “I grew up down South.” He looks me up and down. “You should ride Cloud. I think she’d suit you.”
“Oh,” I say. “I haven’t ridden in ages.”
The man blinks at me twice and frowns again. “You love horses, but you don’t ride.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I guess I’ve been pretty busy.” With work and caring for my mom. The unsaid words hang heavy in the air.
“Well,” he says, “we’ll have to change that, won’t we?”
And before I can argue a second time, he disappears inside the stall.
“That’s a great idea,” Annie says, grabbing my cold hand in hers. “We’ll do loads of riding while you’re out here – that’s if the weather allows.”
“So,” I say as we step back outside into the snow-covered landscape, the now setting sun christening everything a rosy pink color that has my heart warming even more than it already was, “what’s the plan tonight? Are we going to open a bottle of wine and catch up? Or watch a Christmas movie? Or if you need help wrapping any presents I can …”
“No flipping way,” my best friend says, pinching my arm. “This is your first night in Silver Creek. There’s only one thing we’re doing tonight.”
“There is,” I say. “What’s that?”
“We’re getting dressed up and we’re going dancing.”
Chapter Four
Nash
Tucker arrives on Storm ten minutes after Annie and her friend leave the barn. I’ve already finished with Jane, and I go and give him a hand, putting his horse to bed and checking up on the rest before we lock up the barn for the evening.
