gaze made her smile wobble. It was as if a storm had brewed within him and was searching to exit through his eyes—eyes that had once been soft and loving now tumultuous and dangerous.
“You want me to ride?”
She held out the reins to the horse. It was one of Johnny’s own, and he’d promised she’d be nice and quiet. Sarah had no idea how long it had been since Nate had ridden.
“It’ll do us both good,” she assured him.
Nate shook his head, before pulling his hat back over his short crop of hair, stretching and standing. “In case you haven’t noticed,” he said in a voice laced with ice, “I’m not exactly capable these days.”
Sarah forced herself to look into his eyes, to not be scared off by his behavior. If he was trying to push her away, to make her scurry back to where she’d come from, then he was doing a darn good job. Except for the fact he was forgetting how determined she had to be with the kids in her classroom. Bullying and bad behavior didn’t get her pupils anywhere, and just because he was a wounded soldier didn’t mean he was going to get any special treatment.
“So you limp? I can see that for myself without you pointing it out, but I wouldn’t have thought you’d let it stop you.” Sarah’s hands were shaking but she wasn’t backing down. This was Nate, for goodness’ sake!
“Sarah …”
“No, Nate, no,” she insisted. “You can ride without stirrups, whatever, but I think it’ll do you good.”
He squinted up at her, his face showing the full force of his anger. “You been talking to my family?”
She thrust the reins down into his hands now he was closer. “Why, you been as rude to them as you’re being to me right now?”
Nate’s face crumpled, like a hard shell that had just been shattered, a snail dropped to the concrete from a bird’s beak. “Damn it, Sarah, I’m sorry. I—”
She held up her hand to silence him. “There’s time for apologies later, Nate, from both of us, but right now I just want you to get back in the saddle.”
Nate looked at her, stayed still for a heartbeat, before throwing the reins over the horse’s neck and positioning himself on the left-hand side. She couldn’t help thinking that he was lucky he’d injured his right leg, otherwise he’d have found it hard to mount, but she turned away before he caught her watching. Gave him a moment to right himself before she faced him again.
“No stirrups, you reckon?” he asked, a glimmer of the old Nate flickering in his voice.
Sarah shrugged. “Whatever’s most comfortable. I thought we’d just go for a nice long walk, give this one a bit of mileage.”
Nate’s focus turned to the horse she was riding. “Young?”
“Yep, just started under saddle a few weeks ago, so she’s doing pretty well,” she told him. “I’ve had her since she was a baby, and now it’s time to see if she’s too much of a handful for me or not.”
Nate pushed his foot into the stirrup on her side. She imagined he did the same on the other side or tried to from the grimace on his face, but he didn’t say anything. Pushing his heel down would no doubt be painful, but until he was ready to talk, she wasn’t going to ask. Anything. He’d tell her what had happened to his leg when he was good and ready.
“Tell me what you’ve been up to?” Nate was obviously trying to make an effort.
Sarah didn’t want to talk about herself, had liked the neutral territory of horses. “Oh, you know, nothing out of the ordinary.”
Nate looked sideways but his focus was clearly on the horse now.
“Have you ridden since you left?”
“Nope.” Nate stroked one hand down the animal’s neck. “I guess it’s one of those things that you never forget how to do, though, right?”
“So I hear you’re—”
“What do you—”
They both laughed. “Sorry,” Sarah said with a laugh as they spoke at the same time. “You go first.”
Nate looked like he was about to object, to tell her to go first, when his face visibly softened. Almost looked pained before he spoke.
“I hear you’re no longer with Todd.”
Sarah focused on the inhale and exhale of air as it whooshed through her lungs. She hadn’t expected him to know. “You found that out between us talking earlier and now?” She had no idea who would have told him. “And here I was thinking you’d been sitting under that tree minding your own business all morning.”
Nate’s body visibly stiffened and he looked off into the distance. “It’s none of my business, Sarah, you’re right. I just wanted to tell you I was sorry.”
Sorry that her marriage was over or sorry that he’d walked off and left her to marry Todd in the first place?
“It’s fine,” she lied, fixing a sunny smile on her face, not wanting to be drawn back into the past. “Todd and I weren’t meant to be, that’s all.” She omitted the part about him running off with another woman who was already carrying his baby, about how he’d ripped her heart out with his lies and left her without a backward glance as if their marriage had meant nothing.
“So nothing else happening around here I should know about?” Nate asked her, clearly trying to change the subject.
“Other than the Fall Festival?” she mused. “Well, there’s a few new people in town, but other than that, we’re just the same as usual here in Larkville, I guess.”
They rode side by side, far enough apart that there was no danger of them bumping knees, but close enough that it made talking easy. She noticed his foot was dangling from the stirrups now and she wondered if he’d done the same on the other side.
“Who knows about my twin siblings?”
Sarah bit down on the inside of her mouth, needing a moment to consider her reply. Jess, Nate’s sister, had told her about the secret Calhoun children and what had happened, but she hadn’t expected Nate to bring it up out of the blue.
“You haven’t long found out, have you?” she asked him gently.
Nate glanced her way, made brief eye contact before fixing his stare forward again. “I wasn’t contactable for a while, so I won’t lie and say the news didn’t come as a shock when they finally tracked me down and told me.”
Sarah swallowed, uncomfortable. “Not everyone knows, but I’ve seen a lot of your family lately, and Ellie and I have become great friends. She’s wonderful, Nate. I think if you gave her a chance you’d really enjoy her company. Maybe not as your sister straightaway, but as a nice friend at least.”
He laughed. A cruel laugh that she didn’t recognize. “Right now I can’t even spend time with the siblings I grew up with, so what makes you think I’d do any better
