The Foretelling (Charlotte Bloom #1) (12 page)

I emerged quickly, soaked from head to toe, shaking from both the cold and the shock. Luckily, it was shallow, so I stood there waist-deep, shivering. Alec ran towards me and jumped off his horse valiantly, wading through the waves to come get me.

"Charlotte, are you OK?" He looked genuinely concerned. That was nice.

He picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, and brought me to shore. I’d swallowed a mouthful or two of water, so while I was quiet, I was quiet because I felt as though I might puke up water all over Alec’s back at any moment. That, and I’d almost died riding a horse. I was completely numb from the cold ocean water. The only good thing was that I had a very fine view of Alec’s behind.

"Are you sure you’re OK?"

"I’m fine," I said weakly, and Alec set me down in the sand. He ran to grab my jacket, which was lying in the sand a few feet away.

"Put this on." He walked back over to me and threw it around me. It helped a little bit. He rubbed my arms for good measure, to create a little bit of warm friction. As he did this, he smiled. He looked relieved that I was OK. He was glad that I was safe. Maybe he was an OK guy after all.

Ted and Lucy galloped up to us, both asking if I was OK. I told them I was fine, just a bit in shock, and a bit cold.

"I’ll go get Bo, and you can ride with me the rest of the way." Alec said this with no question in his voice. It was already decided.

"The rest of the way?" I wasn’t going back to Parc-Le-Bouveret?

"We’re only a mile in to our ten mile trek. But I have a buddy at the pub where we’re stopping for lunch. I’m sure his wife can loan you some clothes. After that, you can ride Bo back to the Parc, if you feel up to it."

I smiled weakly. So I wasn’t going back to the B&B. My almost dying was just a small detour on our ten-mile ride. Alec went to get Bo, taking his reins and attaching them to his horse's saddle. He got on his horse and held his hand out for me to get on. I was a bit hesitant, to say the least. I hadn’t even dried off. I was covered in sand.

"Get on. I promise, my horse won’t get spooked, and if he does, I’ll be the one with the reins this time." I reluctantly got on behind him and put my arms around him. He smelled so good. I rested my head against his back. "Hold on tight. You’ll stay warm that way."

And he was right. I wasn’t cold: his body heat kept me comfortable the entire way to the pub. We went down the shore a couple more miles, passing quaint little beach shacks and pubs lining the road parallel to the beach. We crossed a river, walked across a hilly meadow, which felt like it went on forever, and then up one of the hills. I realized we were at what seemed like the tallest point in the area. I gazed out and saw miles and miles of wild grass, ocean, and forest.

"This is all the Gower Peninsula. Over there is the Bristol Channel, and beyond that, the Celtic sea. I grew up way up north of the sea in Ireland. I swam in this very same sea when I was a kid." He was speaking to the group, but Lucy and Ted were too far away to hear.

"What brought you to Wales?" I was trying to make conversation. Also, I was grateful that he’d saved me from being trampled to death, which I was still sure would’ve happened if Bo hadn’t been stopped.

"I can answer questions about the area, but I’d rather not talk about my personal life."

"Sorry. I’m just curious." OK, maybe I
didn’t
want to start a conversation with him. He didn’t say anything else.

We’d crossed the hilly meadow with the spectacular coastline view and entered into a little village that I didn't know the name of. It was teeny tiny, with the pub, a post office, a market, and a few cottages scattered along the main road. From there, it was nothing. Even though I was still wet, it was beginning to warm up. My whole body was sore by this point, and I cringed when I thought that we were only halfway. The ride back would be tedious.

On the plus side, the beauty here astonished me. Everyone thought California was beautiful, even Oregon and Washington. Northern Oregon, where I grew up, was considered one of the prettiest areas on the west coast, and a part of me agreed; it was gorgeous, with large redwood trees and bright blue lakes and the ocean. The fog gave it an even more mystical allure. But this view, this whole country it seemed, was out of a dream. I’d never seen anything more beautiful, except for maybe the Andes Mountains in Peru, and the area surrounding Cusco, near Machu Picchu. This was a different kind of wonderful. Peru was magical, almost fairy-like in its wild greenery. Peru had rainforests, where water droplets hung in the air and animals roamed free in the jungle.

Here it was more of a homey beautiful, if that made sense. It was like this area had been preserved from the 1500s, untouched by modern human hands, still with its medieval charm. Rolling brown meadows gave way to big trees and lush, green wild grass. Wooden and stone cottages dotted the landscape, some of which had smoke pluming from their chimneys, and some of which had classic brown thatched roofs. Riding our horses, I felt like it could be 2014 or 1514. If not for our clothes and the few scattered cars, it could be 500 years ago, easily.

When we arrived at the pub, Alec got off his horse and helped me down, and I almost fell over because of the pain I experienced in my inner thighs. Clenching a saddle all day had tired my legs out, and I realized I was probably really out of shape and not exactly fit to ride horses all day. The stinging subsided a bit as I dragged myself to the front of the pub, called the Kings Head Inn, which was just as picturesque as the rest of Gower and the surrounding area. It was an old stone cottage with wooden benches outside and a low, arched doorway leading into what seemed like an old dungeon.

"I’ll go ask Henry’s wife if she has any clothes here that you can borrow," Alec said gruffly as he went over to Henry, the same Henry that was the night guard at Parc-Le-Bouveret.

I guess he had two jobs. I wondered when he found time to sleep. He waved at me, and I waved shyly back. Henry was good-looking. He was tall with blonde hair, a chiseled face, and a
very
nice body that he showed off under tight t-shirts and slim jeans. He was probably over 6’4", which made his position as the night guard highly acceptable. I sat down in a booth next to Lucy and Ted, who were talking excitedly to each other, and vowed not to look at Henry any more. He was married. He had a wife. I had no right to be looking at someone’s husband like that.

A short, ethnic-looking woman came over to me with a pile of t-shirts and jeans. I guessed she was Henry’s wife. She had to be – she was just as stunning as her husband, if not more. I wondered how it was possible that two such good-looking people had found each other. She had waist-length black hair, tan skin, and a round face with plump, ruby lips. She was thin, a little shorter than me, but muscular. Her almond-shaped eyes were honey brown. She could have been a real-life, modern-day Pocahontas. She was wearing a short, patterned blue sundress and black ankle boots.

"Charlotte, right? I’m Mary." She held out her hand to shake mine. She had an American accent! I wasn’t expecting that. "You seem about the same size as me, so I just went upstairs and grabbed some old jeans, socks, and shirts that you might want to change into. I grabbed a few of everything, so that you’re comfortable." She set the clothes down in front of me, as well as a plastic bag, presumably for my wet clothes.

"Thank you. That’s so nice of you." I stood up and took the clothes towards the bathroom. "I’m sure I’ll find something," I said, smiling widely.

I went into the old bathroom in the basement, and peeled off my still soaking clothes. How they hadn’t dried even a tiny bit in three hours was beyond me. The first pair of jeans I tried on fit perfectly. Mary seemed so much smaller than me, and yet her jeans fit me like a glove. They were nice; a little worn out, but comfortable. I threw on the first t-shirt in the pile, a baggy grey V-neck. Again, pretty worn out, but insanely comfortable. I tossed my socks, wet shirt, and wet jeans into the plastic bag, put on Mary’s socks, and put on the rubber wellies that had completely dried out. I went back into the pub and handed the rest of Mary’s clothes back to her.

"Thanks again. This was a huge help, and since I have to ride all the way back, this will make the ride that much more comfortable."

"No problem! It happens more often than you’d think. Horses run wild all the time. They get spooked easily." She smiled warmly, and ushered me to sit down next to her. She was in the booth next to Alec, who was next to Lucy and Ted.

"I’ll wash these and give them back to Henry tomorrow." I gestured to the clothes I was now wearing.

"Keep them. If you want, anyways. They’re old clothes I keep lying around for no good reason. They look good on you."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

A waitress came over and asked us what we wanted to eat and drink. I hadn’t even looked at the menu, so I told her to bring me the best beer she had on tap, and a classic Welsh lunch. She nodded her head slowly, eyeing me up and down, probably to make sure I wasn’t messing with her.

"Better?" Alec leaned over Mary, pointing to my new outfit.

"Much better. Thanks." I gave him a short and curt answer.

"Good." He continued sipping his dark beer in silence.

I couldn’t help but notice Alec’s body as he ran his fingers through his hair. He’d taken his jacket off, and underneath was a plain, black t-shirt that was practically busting at the seams near his bicep. I averted my eyes as he looked over. I didn’t want him to catch me looking at him. Sure, his personality needed a bit of work, but he was definitely easy on the eyes.

"Charlotte, that was quite a save on Alec’s part," Lucy giggled, sipping her beer quickly.

"Yeah, we thought for sure you were going to be seriously hurt," Ted chimed in, his voice perky and chipper.

"Yeah." I didn’t know what else to say.

Of course I was grateful, but I felt like Alec didn’t know how to take a compliment. He had been acting put out and annoyed all morning,
bothered
by the fact that he had to carry me on his horse, muttering about not fitting the horse for extra weight and not being able to gallop with me on the back. I said thank you three times, and he hadn’t said anything in return. So I’d given up trying to be nice. He was so damn hot and cold. And just plain hot. I quickly glanced over at him, studying his profile. He should be on a poster in someone's bedroom. OK, so maybe he was a jerk, but
damn,
he was nice to look at.

"Where are you from, Charlotte?" Mary asked, while sipping her water, which I thought was odd because we were in a pub. I didn’t question it.

"Originally, I’m from Oregon, near Portland. But I’ve been in Los Angeles for about eight years. What about you?"

"Born and raised in San Francisco. I met Henry when I was studying at Cardiff University. Cardiff’s about an hour away from here. A few girlfriends and I booked a weekend at Parc-Le-Bouveret, and, well, I never really left. I’ve been here for three years."

"That’s
so
romantic," Lucy breathed.

"So, Henry works both jobs?" I had to know when he slept, after all.

"Not quite. This place is run by his family, his parents mostly." She waved at an older couple playing cards in the corner. "Henry helps out when he can, but he usually ducks out around noon or one to sleep. Then he’s off to work. I help around here when he can’t."

I nodded. That made sense. I guess it just baffled me because I needed an exorbitant amount of sleep. Like, if I didn’t get
at least
eight hours (preferably more), I’d be a grump all day. The waitress brought our beers out.

"That’s a pretty sweet set-up though," Ted said. "Family businesses are always the way to go. You never have to answer to a boss."

"Not always," Alec said darkly. "Sometimes, it’s better to find work with people who don’t know your past."

"OK, negative Nancy," Ted sarcastically sang. "You don’t have to be so depressing all of the time."

Lucy stifled a laugh. Mary just smiled weakly and looked down at her water. Something flashed across Alec’s face when Ted made that remark, and I could tell it bothered him. Suddenly I wanted to defend him, but I didn’t know what to say, so I also just stared at my beer. I decided to change the subject.

"Don’t you miss him, though? He works all night and helps run the pub all day. When do you see each other?"

"This is Wales. He only works at the Parc four days a week. Luckily, the British work/home balance is very good, so we only work about thirty hours a week to live comfortably. On his time off, we spend a lot of time together."

"Where do I sign up?" Ted chuckled obnoxiously, and I was starting to think I didn’t really like him all that much. His thick, Tennessee accent was grating, and he was so typically American. Plus, he’d insulted Alec, which bothered me for some reason.

"What do you all do back in the States?" Mary inquired.

"I’m in PR, although I’m pretty sure I’m getting fired when I get back to L.A." I laughed to sound nonchalant, but I realized that that might sound odd to someone who didn’t know my back-story. And since I didn’t really want to get into it, I continued. "Cutbacks, you know. Part of the reason I’m here is to use up vacation time before I get let go," I lied. I wanted to confide in Mary. She seemed really nice. But I didn’t exactly want Lucy and Ted knowing all of my secrets.