Lost and Found (8 page)

"Hey baby…you waited for me?" he slurred his words as he kicked off his shoes before
plopping down onto the side of the bed.

The shirt was fighting with him and he cursed as the material twisted under his arms
and around his neck. He couldn't seem to get the damn thing off. "Whada fuck," he
hissed, as the shirt snagged his lips and nose. With both arms awkwardly flailing
in mid-air he began to giggle again. "Baaaaby, tink I's need help," he said. A full
minute went by in silence as he continued to struggle against the tight fabric before
he was free. He tossed the stretched out shirt onto the ground at his feet and noticed
a wet stain down the front of it. "Huh."

Riley hadn't said a word since he came into the room. The thought that she was angry
occurred to him but his head had begun to spin and the room was tilting and swaying
with it.

"Fine. Ya win, baby. I give, mmkay?" His accent was strong, even to his drunk self
and that made him giggle again.

When she finally did speak, her voice was flat, devoid of emotion. It didn’t even
sound like her and for a split second he panicked, thinking he had wandered into the
wrong bedroom. "Connor. Be quiet."

He turned his head around to stare at her. Yeah, it was Riley. It was definitely Riley
sitting next to him, wearing something strappy and shiny. With a grin, he lifted a
hand and fumbled at her shoulder, teasing the spaghetti strap until it slid down her
arm. Without a word, she simply shrugged his hand off her shoulder.

"Awww, babe, dannae be like dat." He was drunk but not so drunk that he didn't realize
how horrible his speech was. Clearing his throat, he tried again to speak to her but
only got a fleeting glance in his direction before she looked away from him again.
Feeling slighted, he smirked at her profile and followed her gaze across the room
to whatever it was that was more interesting than him.

"Holy fuck!" he shouted, pushing off the mattress so quickly that he lost his balance
and had to flail his arms to keep from falling backwards.

In the far corner stood a man with his back facing them. He shifted his weight from
one leg to the other, causing his body to sway from side to side. Blood soaked his
shirt from the collar to the waist area and in the center, where his shoulder blades
should have been, was a dark and fleshy hole. The back of the man's light hair was
crusty from dried blood and grass. Connor didn't need to see the man's face to know
exactly who he was. But it couldn't be. He was dead. Dead and buried on a hill not
far from there, with a panoramic view of the lake.

The spinning in Connor's head took over and his body pitched forward. Just before
he collapsed onto the ground, his eyes rolled back into his head and Fin's rugged
voice spoke to him, "Connor…don't let her go, Connor. You can't let her leave us…"

I rubbed at my arm with a scowl on my face so severe I was certain the horse knew
exactly what I was thinking. Foxy stomped her right foot down into the dirt and kicked
at it, spraying my boot with dusty residue. She turned around and stuck her ass in
my face. Swished her tail at me twice and then casually walked over to the hay pile
that Sunny was eagerly picking through.

"You okay?" Kris asked. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was drawn in a tight line.

"I'm fine. Damn horse is just stubborn. I'll try again later," I said with a huff
while Kris helped pull me to my feet. I lifted my arm to find my elbow scraped and
bloody. But it was my pride that had taken the biggest blow.
Three times.
The bay had thrown me three times.

It was mid-day and the sun beat relentlessly down onto my shoulders, turning my tan
a shade darker. Gnats flew around my face and I swatted at them, cursing under my
breath as one of the puny bugs flew up my nose.

Sunny was easy to saddle and even easier to mount. In fact, she seemed happy to have
a rider. But Foxy proved to be more of a challenge. She allowed us to saddle her without
a problem and even to lead her around the lodge lawn on her side pull. But the instant
I put my foot into the stirrup, she changed. The first time she threw me, I hadn't
even lowered my butt fully onto the saddle before being tossed off. I immediately
tried again, only to have the bay lower her head, tossing me up and over the saddle
horn. Both times, I landed on my backside somehow. But this last time she reared up
and bucked when she realized I had a solid handful of her mane and wasn't letting
go. My left foot slipped out of the stirrup and off the saddle I went, landing hard
on my back just inches away from her stomping feet. She could have crushed me if she
wanted or at the least, landed a few good solid blows before she stomped away, but
she didn't. She was testing me. It was a battle of wills and I was intent on winning
the next round.

"Let's take a break, let them eat, and hopefully try again when the sun's not so damn
hot."

Kris nodded and carefully approached the horses, tying their leads onto the post by
their hay pile. Foxy didn't look up at her, just continued to munch on the dried strands
as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened that morning.

I was shaking clumps of grassy dirt from my ponytail when I heard Connor's voice,
followed by Winchester's laugh. The trees had thinned out some from the heat of summer
but I could still only see the tops of their heads as they followed the trail up.
I briskly rubbed at my clothes, wiping at the dirt and scuffmarks left over from my
falls. The last thing I needed was another argument with Connor about my safety. There
was no way to hide my bloodied elbow, so I propped my hands on my hips as the men
came into view, hoping neither would spot my injury.

Winchester waved in our direction and I nodded at him with a smile, raising my uninjured
arm in a quick wave. Connor looked as if he had gone a few revolutions in a clothes
dryer. His hair was pressed straight in funky places and curled in others. Even from
a distance, it was easy to see which side of his face he had spent the last ten hours
lying on. He was wearing the same jeans but a different top - the only tidy thing
about his appearance.

As they got closer he smiled timidly, as if he was nervous or anxious to see me. "Well,
good morning," I beamed, when the pair was within earshot.

"It's a perfect day," Winchester said. His hands were shoved deep into his jean pockets
and he looked me up and down before a scowl settled on his face. "What have you ladies
been doing up here all morning?"

"Cleaning the horses, can't you tell?" I answered. It wasn't exactly a lie. We
had
spent over an hour brushing the horses down with the shedding tools. And I had attempted
to use the hoof pick to clean out the clods of dirt and mud packed onto the bottoms
of their feet. Neither horse had enjoyed that very much. They must have sensed it
was my first time grooming a horse and that I was nervous around their legs. Falling
off a horse and landing on your backside was one thing - getting kicked in the head
was another thing altogether. Thankfully, neither Sunny nor Foxy decided to see what
my face felt like beneath their hooves.

Winchester nodded at me but the scowl didn't leave his face. "Being careful, I hope?"

I smiled, silently urging myself to keep from lecturing him that he was not my father.
"Yep. All good here. So, I see you both survived the night. How you feeling?"

Connor groaned, the first sound he had made, and Winchester winced. "Let's just say
this morning my stomach objected…
profusely
," Winchester said.

"I figured as much." I turned to look at Connor and softened my tone, "Sorry about
leaving you on the floor. You passed out and all I could do was roll you around until
you looked comfortable."

"I'm sorry 'bout that. You know, for coming to bed so drunk."

I shrugged eager to change the conversation. I wanted to talk to Connor, to see how
much he remembered before his face kissed the hardwood floor the night before, but
not in front of the others.

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn't notice the men stepping back from me until there
was a good five feet between us. When I looked up at them with a frown, confused by
their matching expressions of concern, something tapped me on the shoulder. As I turned
my head to see what Kris wanted, a piece of rope dragged across my neck and I yelped.
The stubborn bay stood just behind me with her head next to mine, her lead dangling
against my back. She pushed her muzzle along the side of my face, rubbing my cheek.
With a playful nip at my shirt, she turned around and walked back to her hay.

I stood frozen, dumbfounded at the bay's behavior. Unsure of what had changed between
us, I simply stared at her as she nudged the hay around before munching on it. Kris
stood next to Sunny the palomino, her eyes wide with a big smile spread on her face.
Did I just win this round?

***

Connor lounged in the Adirondack chair, his bare feet propped up on the deck railing
as he watched a flock of white birds dive toward the surface of the lake through the
tinted shield of his sunglasses. He knew the headache would eventually go away, though
it didn't feel like it at the moment. There wasn't enough room in his skull to contain
the throbbing of his hung-over brain.

Zoey lay curled at his feet, tuckered out from chasing a squirrel between the cabin
and the tree line for nearly an hour. The squirrel was clearly having fun teasing
the dog, and though it was amusing to see, the back and forth motion of the two just
made the splitting feeling inside Connor's head worse so he hadn't watched to see
who ended up winning the game of tag.

The night before was fuzzy; toasts and shots and swigs from whiskey bottles plagued
him. An image of Riley, sitting in their bed, arms wrapped around a pillow, just wouldn't
leave his thoughts. And something else. Something dark; something he was sure he didn’t
truly want to remember, niggled at the fibers in his brain, doing its best to force
a path to the front of his memory. He struggled to push it away, thinking of the lake
instead. The dog and the squirrel. Or the fact that he had to clip his toe nails soon.
But the dark memory kept trying to come back. He rubbed briskly at his face and winced
when the jostling hurt his head.

"You know, you keep wearing your jeans outside in this sun, your tanned feet will
no longer match your white legs."

Connor shifted in his seat, turning his sore head just in time to see Riley settle
into the chair beside him. "I thought you liked my legs?"

"Oh I do, but keep this sort of sunning up and it will look like you're wearing brown
socks when you're naked." She laughed, and even though the sound of a mouse fart was
enough to make him cringe in pain, her laughter didn't. It was a honey-sweet musical
sound that never failed to warm his heart.

"Done with your horses?" he asked.

"For now." She smiled at him, but he noticed the pull at the edges of her mouth, as
if her grin was forced. He waited until she looked away, sighing heavily into the
warm air. "We need to talk about last night," she said quietly.

"Yeah, I figured as much."

"And…?" she asked him.

"You go first. Last night is a big blur for me."

Connor sat still in his seat, listening to Riley recount the events of the previous
evening. Ending with how he wound up on their bedroom floor, half-naked and alone.

"Are you certain?" he asked, feeling a cool sweat break out on the exposed parts of
his body.

"Yes. One hundred percent; it was him."

He nodded curtly, amazed that his head could actually hurt more as Riley's words registered.
After sitting up and being careful to keep the direct sunlight out of his face, he
looked over his shoulder at the girl he loved.

"So, how long has Fin been back?"

***

The sateen sheets were cool and slick, and smelled of fresh lily. The laundry fragrance
paired nicely with the scent of our body wash. Connor's breath touched the back of
my shoulder and I concentrated on the soft wisps of air that hit my skin with a slow
and steady rhythm. The day had been a long one; full of horses, discussions, chores
and thoughts. That was what I was tangled in - my thoughts. As I waded through the
murky waters of my mind, I felt lost and alone in the gloomy shadows. Even with Connor's
arm draped protectively around me, I knew he wouldn't be able to save me from myself,
or from the shadows that took form late at night.

Though I couldn't see Fin, I felt him nearby. His essence was heavy - impossible to
miss. And he wouldn't leave me alone. Every time I blinked, I was certain his face
would appear before mine, with him hunched over, watching me in bed. Or standing in
the far corner, his gunshot wound open and oozing sickly-colored blood. If he could
hear my pleas for him to move on, my demands for him to leave me be - he wasn't listening.

With a shaky sigh I shifted, rolling onto my back and adjusting Connor's heavy arm
below my naked breasts. He moved slightly, bumping his bent knee into my leg but he
didn't wake. The haircut he had given himself suited him. Though his hair still had
plenty of length, it didn't hide his features anymore. The straight angles of his
nose and jawline were visible once again, as well as his eyes. I loved his hair long.
He looked wild, rugged, and sexy. But his eyes were my favorite - the clear blue color
stood out against his dark features, begging me to get lost in them. Drown in them.
And every time he looked at me, I did just that. Now that his hair was shorter, I
could see more of his eyes, without having to push his wavy locks out of the way.

I was still staring at his sleeping face when dawn began kissing the bedroom windows.
No matter how hard I tried to will it away, the new day had started. The room seemed
to expand as the shadows were forced back into their hiding places and the light of
day took over. I stared at the ceiling, checking out the wooden beams and a cobweb
the size of a Mini Cooper that I hadn't noticed before. It was dusty, tucked into
the far corner of the room, just behind the bathroom door. I became fascinated with
it as the room brightened, hoping to see a spider run out along the sagging strands,
but nothing did. The spider that created it had been gone a long time.

When hazy sunbeams began hitting the floor and spraying across the foot of the bed,
Connor stirred beside me, flexing his arm across my midsection. I waited for him to
stretch before I leaned over and softly kissed his mouth.

His eyes fluttered open, and with his early morning voice laden with a touch of his
rusty Celtic accent, he murmured, "Morning, sunshine."

"Good morning."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Awhile. I know you slept well, you snored."

His eyes widened before he scoffed, "I do not snore!"

"You keep telling yourself that," I giggled.

"Kris is up, I can smell coffee," he sighed.

I heard her rise and creep down the stairs a half hour before, but I wasn't ready
for coffee, plus part of me hoped I would drift off into some sort of slumber. My
body was sore and achy from the day before.

"I'm going to take the horses out for their first ride today…with Kris," I said.

"Really? You think they're ready for that?" Connor propped himself up on one elbow
and looked down at me.

"I'm sure Sunny is, but Foxy...we'll see. We won't know if they are ready till we
try."

"True. Want me to go with?" He twirled the ends of my hair around his finger.

"Not yet, but thanks." I looked over at him and smiled. He was different, less combative,
more interested in what I was doing with the horses. I wondered if he was beginning
to change his mind.

"You know, I have this problem," he said with a sly grin on his face.

"What problem is that?"