Never Say Never (13 page)

“Oh,” I say with a laugh. “It is worse.”

“Shut up,” she tells me with a hint of a smile. I step in behind her and look at the pink walls covered with posters and photographs of horses. Ribbons she’d won at shows line the perimeter of the walls. The purple and white bedspread is messily laid out over the bed. She goes into the walk-in wardrobe and emerges a minute later in jeans and a long-sleeve black shirt. She grabs a quilt from the foot of her bed and takes me back downstairs.

Her friend Lori left soon after we came back here. The little horse was sleeping and would need to be fed again soon. That was when Haley turned to me and asked if I wanted to stay for a while and keep her company. I didn’t think twice. I agreed right away, not ready to be away from her just yet. We exit through the back of the house and walk down a gravel drive to the barn.

She slides a large door open just enough for us to squeeze through. The smell of hay, wood shavings, and something sweet hits me. Haley inhales and smiles, her eyes going to the same white horse from before, who is munching on hay and is in the stall closest to us. He sticks his head out of the open door and nickers softly.

“Hey, sweetie,” she says as she goes to him. She relaxes, and her eyes sparkle with her smile. There’s nothing fake about it. The horse lowers his head, and she turns, bracing herself against the stall door as the horse rubs his head against her.

“Is that how horses say hello?” I ask.

Haley flicks her eyes to me, looking almost as if she’d forgotten I was there. “Just this guy,” she tells me and takes a step away. “This is Shakespeare. He was my show horse back in the day, but he’s retired now.”

The next stall houses the baby horse. She’s tiny and frail and possibly the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen. She’s curled up in the back of her stall in a ball of golden fur, and she opens her eyes when we walk past. “I haven’t named her yet,” Haley tells me. “I used to…” Her voice breaks, and she mutters something to herself. I put my hand on her arm and she relaxes. “She’s the first one I’ve taken
in since…since that day.”

She doesn’t have to say it for me to know her heart is too broken to feel the passion she once felt, and she doesn’t have to tell me that makes her guilty. I know it just by looking at her, and I understand the pain.

“Anyway,” she says, moving on. “This is Sundance. He’s almost ready to find a home, after a few more hours spent under saddle.”

She moves to the next stall. “This is Benny.”

I walk along next to her and look in at a large brown horse. He lifts his head and flares his nostrils at me.

“He’s kind of an asshole and likes to eat hair. Watch out for him. He’s a permanent resident because of that.”

I take a step to go to the last stall, but Haley stops me. Her fingers wrap around my wrist. Her face pales.

“You know how you asked me what was the worst I’ve seen?” she asks, and I nod. “This is it.”

I twist my hand and slip my fingers through hers. We move down the aisle, hand in hand. My heart thumps in my chest when I look into the stall, and I feel a little sick. A dark horse stands in the back, her head down. Bones protrude all along her body and I wonder how the hell she’s even alive. She turns her head to look at us, and I almost recoil. One side of her face has been badly burned. She’s missing fur and skin along her jaw, down her neck, and along her side and back.

She holds Haley’s gaze for half a beat and then turns her head down again. If I thought the baby horse was pathetic, I was sadly mistaken. The horse in front of us looks so utterly hopeless.

“Phoenix,” Haley whispers, voice tight. She puts her hand on her shoulder, right over the spot where I’d seen the burn scars. “We saved her that night. She looked worse, if you can believe that. She’s put on some weight, and her burns are healing, but not as fast as they should. I can hardly get her to eat. It’s definitely safe to say many others would give up on her.”

She looks at the horses, running her eyes down the barn. “They don’t give up on us. They trust us, love us for some reason when we’re capable of doing horrendous things to them. But horses still love their humans. They never give up on us, so I never give up on them.”

I slide my foot along the rubber mats that cover the cement floor and put my arm around Haley’s shoulders, bringing her in and cradling her against my chest. Her arms go around my waist and my heart flutters. It’s stupid. Why would I feel nervous right now? All we are doing is standing here.

“Aiden,” she starts and pulls away. “It’s not that late. You should go, find someone who’s more fun than me.”

“There you go again, not wanting to be around me,” I say with a smile.

She bites her lip. “I’ll take a rain check, if you’ll still have me.”

I look down, forehead resting against hers. “I’d like to.” I can see the tears in her eyes and I hate that she’s sad, hate that she’s in pain. It’s something I know all too well, and it’s something that took me a lifetime to learn how to control. “I want to make you smile, Haley. You’re beautiful when you do.”

“You’re too kind.”

“I’m really not.” I shuffle closer and become aware of her breasts pressing into me and her hips brushing against mine. “Teach me how to bottle-feed a horse?”

She slides out of my embrace and smiles. “Yeah. I can do that.”

Chapter 11

I wake up as the sun rises. I’m still in the barn, having fallen asleep on a blanket I laid out in the foal’s stall. Aiden had been next to me, but I know right away he’s not now. I’m cold, missing the warmth of his body. I startle awake, realizing that hours must have passed since the last time I fed the baby.

I turn, fear gripping my heart. Then I stop, and what I see next leaves me speechless. Aiden sits on the other side of the stall with the foal sleeping in his lap. She’s lazily sucking on a bottle he’s holding, and his jacket is draped over her little body.

“Shhh,” he says when he sees me. “She just fell asleep.” I stare at him for a few seconds, then a smile pulls up my lips and tears prick my eyes. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he whispers. “I figured you’d need as much sleep as you can get if you’re going to be doing this all day.”

I can’t stop smiling at him. “Yeah, I will be. All day, all night, and then again tomorrow.”

“How do you do it?” he asks as he looks down at the foal.

“I just do,” I answer simply. I used to enjoy it, and it used to feel rewarding. Now it feels tedious, like everything in life. All I want to do is curl up in my bed and never get up. But it’s these guys who force me out of bed each and every morning. It’s these guys who give me a reason to keep going when everything else has been burned away.

“You’re pretty amazing, you know,” he says.

“No, I’m not.” I push up, my back sore from leaning against the side of the stall most of the night. “I’m just doing my little part to help those who can’t help themselves.” I brush hay and bedding from my hair. “You are too, for putting up with me and staying.”

I feel embarrassed about my breakdown last night, though at the same time, I’m glad I told Aiden. I had to tell someone, and even though it didn’t make sense, there was something about Aiden that pulled me in. It was more than his pouty lips and emotional eyes that won me over in
Shadowland
—not to mention his perfect abs. No, there was more to Aiden Shepherd than meets the eye.

“Hungry?” I ask him. My own stomach grumbles.

“I’m starving,” he says.

“I can make you something,” I offer then remember I don’t have much more than Ramen noodles and Mac ’n Cheese. “Or at least a cup of coffee.”

“Yes to both,” he says. His accent is thicker when he’s tired, and it’s adorable. “How do I sneak away?” he asks, running his hands over the foal’s muzzle. He sets the bottle down. “I feel bad getting up.”

“Hang on,” I say and go over, helping Aiden to his feet without disturbing the foal. “She’s going to wake up anyway,” I whisper. “I have to feed the other guys, and they get a little excited. Especially Benny.”

Aiden stands, brushing himself off. Waking up with a clear head opens my eyes to just how amazing he looks in the dark jeans and gray t-shirt. His dark, wavy hair is messy, and he’s got just enough scuff on his chiseled jaw to drive any girl wild. The lingering scent of cologne clings to him, despite spending the night in the barn.

Wait. Holy fucking shit.

I spent the night with Aiden. Not at all in the sense that’s implied, but he stayed with me. All night. In a barn. Bottle-feeding an orphaned foal, keeping it warm with his own jacket. If I weren’t so dead tired, my ovaries would be exploding right now. I hurry out of the stall before he can see me flush, and I pull down a bale of hay. I slice the strings, break the bale into flakes, and toss them into each horse’s stall. I fill up water buckets next, and finally dish out grain for everyone.

“You do this every morning?” Aiden asks, sitting on the tractor we use to pull the manure spreader.

“I’m not even done yet,” I tell him as I mix another bottle of formula, using warm water from inside the tack room. “I clean stalls and let everyone out after they’re done eating, and then do all of Phoenix’s treatments. She has a lot.”

“I can’t even get up and get dressed in clothes someone picked out for me in time for someone else to drive me to work.” He runs his hand through his hair. “You’re putting me to shame.”

I chuckle. “Then I go to work. All this,” I say, sweeping my hands in front of me. “The barn work isn’t even my job.”

“You’re Superwoman.”

I shake my head. “That was my mom. She did all this and more, plus did several barn calls a day as a farrier.”

Aiden raises an eyebrow. “Farrier?”

I smile. “Right. I forget you non-horse people don’t know. A farrier does hooves. You know, trim, file, put on shoes.”

“Like a blacksmith?”

“Close enough.” I go back into the foal’s stall to give her another bottle. She’s standing, ears forward and eyes wide. My heart swells a little. She’s going to be just fine. Aiden ducks in next to me and comes over, holding out his phone.

“What are you doing?” I ask, suspiciously eyeing the camera screen.

He stands on the other side of the foal and puts his arm around me “Taking a picture. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Don’t you dare,” I say. “I look like crap.”

He holds out his arm and looks at me. “I honestly don’t think so. You’re kind of beautiful, you know.”

“Just kind of?” I retort with a smile. He snaps the picture.

“You’re more than kind of. I just said that to make you look at me.” He flashes a panty-melting smile and brings the phone to him. “People will love this.”

“Don’t you dare post that!” I threaten and reach for him. The foal is hungrily sucking down the bottle, and I’m stuck. He dashes out of the way, laughing. “Aiden!” I say, eyes going wide. “Let me see it first!”

“You look good, I promise.”

“Please! At least let me smile or something. And brush my hair. Really, I’d like to brush my hair.” I reach up and pull hay from it.

Aiden laughs. “You always have hay in your hair, don’t you?”

I can’t contain my smile. “I do. And horse treats in my pocket. But please, let me approve or deny.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry, no one will know who you are. They’re interested in me.” His words are meant to comfort me, but they just make him seem like a dick. Which he is. Maybe…maybe not. He did spend the night in a horse stall with me. And he has a point. Anyone who followed him on Instagram cared about seeing pictures of him. And I wouldn’t let myself care what kind of nasty comments mega-fans would say. I could be Miss America and they’d still call me fat and ugly.

“Fine, whatever.” I’m still smiling and shaking my head when I look back at the foal. She pops off the bottle and walks around the stall. She nibbles on hay and sticks her nose up at the bars, sniffing at Shakespeare. I exit the stall. “We can go eat first. I’ll let them out in a bit.”

“I’ll help,” he says, and my heart does a weird flutter thing. I haven’t felt something like this—something that makes me feel
alive
—since before the fire. He pockets his phone and links his arm through mine. Being this close to him causes my body to react, and I’m suddenly feeling very attracted to him.

I need to fight it. I don’t want to end up being a fling, just something to do—literally—while he’s bored on location. There really isn’t much to do around here when you’re used to partying with the rich and famous.

A truck slows at the end of the driveway, sticking a newspaper into the holder on the mailbox. I need to cancel the paper subscription. I get free papers from work. We walk down to get it, and I remember I haven’t gotten the mail from yesterday either. I open the mailbox and internally groan when I see the bills from the hospital. What was the point of having insurance?

I should never have taken the foal. I knew I’d spend at least six hundred on formula in the next few weeks. Six hundred dollars. Nerves race down my spine, and sweat breaks out across my forehead. Where was that money going to come from? I got paid yesterday, and it was barely enough.