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“Please.”
She turned back and looked at the teenager, whose green eyes were wide open, their expression sincere. Lily was sorry. Callie could feel it. Something tugged at her heartstrings.
Callie took a deep breath. “Indiana is my horse, Lily. And as quiet as he is, you could have been badly hurt. And I would have been responsible.”
Lily’s chin lifted, half defiant. “But I can ride a bit.”
“A bit isn’t good enough for a horse like Indiana, especially in an ill-fitting bridle and without a saddle.”
Lily looked shame-faced beneath her makeup. “I really didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” she said. “I just … sometimes I just do things. I don’t know why. I do things I know are stupid, but I can’t help myself.”
The tug on Callie’s heart grew stronger. She knew exactly what Lily meant. Kindred spirits, she thought. But, oh, God … what should she do? Say yes to this girl who looked at her with such raw intensity. A girl, she suspected, who rarely showed that side of herself to anyone. But a girl whose father she couldn’t stop thinking about. Who, without even trying, was making Callie feel, imagine.
“I’ll do whatever you want,” Lily said quickly, almost desperately. “Please teach me.”
Before Callie could reply Joe stuck his head around the door to tell her Kirra was ready. She thanked him, then returned her attention to the teenager. “I’ll tell you what—you stay out of trouble while I work my horse and we’ll talk after.” She stood aside for Lily to pass. “No promises, just talk.”
Callie led Lily from the stables and told her to stay put near the dressage arena. She gave her an old soda crate to sit on and then took the red bay mare into the arena. She worked her for twenty minutes, trying to concentrate on the maneuvers and transitions from trot to canter. But her mind wasn’t really on the job. Lily sat on the sidelines, watching her, masked behind her makeup.
Ten minutes later Noah Preston’s silver utility vehicle pulled up outside the stables. Callie continued with her ride, watching as he got out and opened the back door of the truck. The children stepped out. The older boy grabbed the hands of the twins and listened as his father spoke to them. Then he headed for Lily. He had a great walk, she thought. And he looked so good in jeans and a black T-shirt. Way too good.
Callie watched as the kids followed behind him. And again it stirred something inside her. An old longing. And it gave her a snapshot of a life she’d never have.
Ryan …
The longing turned into a pain—a piercing, incredible hurt that always took root behind her ribs when she thought about the beautiful baby boy she’d lost when he was just two days old.
I miss you Ryan … I miss holding you … I miss watching you grow up and become the person you could have been.
Kirra sensed her distraction and started prancing sideways at a trot. Callie got her quickly under control and eased her to a halt in the center of the arena. And she watched as Noah began talking with his daughter. Lily nodded, he shook his head. Lily said something, he replied. The conversation lasted for some minutes and the three younger Preston children stood quietly behind their father. Finally, Lily waved her arms about and stomped off toward the truck. He said something to the three kids and they sat on the soda crate. Then he headed through the gate and into the arena.
Callie dismounted and pulled the reins over Kirra’s head, collecting them in her left hand. She fought the ridiculous impulse to take off her safety hat and smooth out her hair or rub her hands down her breeches.
He stopped about two feet in front of her. “Hello,” he said.
Callie swallowed. “Hi.”
He went to say something but then stopped. He patted the horse instead. He had nice hands, she noticed. Tanned and strong looking. She quickly snapped herself out of her silly female fantasy. “I was going to call you,” she said. “You beat me to it.”
“I knew she’d be here.”
“You did? How?”
“Because you were the last thing we talked about last night. And I know Lily—when she gets her mind stuck on something, she can be impossible to deal with.”
Callie raised her brows. “Looks like you’re surrounded by impossible women.”
My God, am I flirting? That’s what it sounds like.
And he smiled. As though he liked it. “I could think of worse things.”
Everything around her suddenly felt hot—the air in her lungs, the sand beneath her boots. “Anyway—she didn’t do any harm while she was here.”
“She’s changed since her mother left.”
Not what he wanted to say, Callie was sure of it. It was too familiar, too personal, too everything. And Callie wanted to clamp her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear any more. She didn’t want to know him. She didn’t want to know more of him.
“No problem.” It was a pitiful attempt at sounding indifferent.
“She used to be … sweet. A real sweet kid. And then she changed almost overnight.”
Callie felt another surge of feeling for Lily. She knew all about change. She knew what grief and hurt could do to a person. “Is that the reason for the makeup and black clothes?”
He shrugged. “Something to hide behind, I guess. She still wants riding lessons.”
Callie clicked Kirra forward and began to walk from the arena. “Well, Janelle Evans is a good instructor.”
He stepped in beside her. “She’s asked for you.”
“She can’t … you can’t … I just …”
Something happened then. Her legs stopped moving. Her lungs stopped breathing as she turned and their eyes locked. For one extraordinary moment Callie knew that whatever she was feeling, he was feeling it, too. It was crazy, heady and blindingly powerful.
He spoke first. “Lily rarely asks for anything.”
Callie continued walking. “Which means?”
“Which means I’m inclined to do whatever I can to see that she gets what she wants.”
They got to the gate. Callie tied Kirra to the railing, took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I—”
“Callie,” he said “Please, reconsider.” He placed his hand on her arm. A light touch, but the electricity coursing between their skin could not be denied. He looked at his hand but didn’t remove it. Callie stood still, held in place by his touch, by the mere wisp of space that lay between them. “Lily needs you.” He paused, watching her. “And I … and I need you.”
