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Authors: Nicholas Sparks

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BOOK: The Longest Ride
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He reminded himself that they barely knew each other and that he was probably reading too much into it. Nonetheless, he had to admit he was nervous at the prospect of her visit.

After chopping the firewood, he straightened up around the house and rode the Gator out to turn off the irrigation, then made a quick trip to the store to restock the fridge. He wasn’t sure if she’d come inside, but if she did, he wanted to be prepared.

Even as he got into the shower, though, he found he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Lifting his face into the spray, he wondered what on earth had gotten into him.

 

 

At a quarter past one, Luke was sitting in a rocker on the front porch of his home when he heard the sound of a car slowly pulling up the long dirt drive, dust rising into the treetops. Dog was at his feet, next to the cowboy boots Luke had found in his mom’s closet. Dog sat up, his ears cocked before glancing at Luke.

“Go get ’em,” he urged, and Dog immediately trotted off. Luke grabbed the boots and stepped off the porch onto the grass. He waved his hat as he approached the main drive, hoping she’d spot him through the shrubbery that lined the drive. Heading straight would lead her to the main farmhouse; to get to his place, she’d need to turn off through an opening in the trees and follow a worn grassy track. It was hard to spot unless you knew where it was, and it would have benefited from some gravel surfacing, but that was yet another item on the to-do list he’d never quite gotten around to. At the time, he hadn’t thought it all that important, but now, with Sophia approaching and his heart beating faster than usual, he wished he had.

Thankfully, Dog knew what to do. He’d run ahead and was standing in the main drive like a sentry until Sophia brought the car to a stop, then he barked authoritatively before trotting back toward Luke. Luke waved his hat again, eventually catching Sophia’s attention, and she turned the car. A moment later, she pulled to a stop beneath a towering magnolia tree.

She stepped out, wearing tight faded jeans that were torn at the knees, looking as fresh as summer itself. With almost catlike eyes and faintly Slavic bone structure, she was even more striking in sunlight than she’d been the night before, and all he could do was stare at her. He had the strange feeling that in the future, whenever he thought about her, this would be the image he recalled. She was too beautiful, too refined and exotic, for this country setting, but when she broke into that wide, friendly smile, he felt something clear inside, like the sun breaking through the mist.

“Sorry I’m late,” she called out as she closed the door, sounding nowhere near as nervous as he felt.

“It’s all right,” he said, replacing his hat and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I made a wrong turn and had to backtrack a bit. But I had a chance to drive around King.”

He shuffled his feet. “And?”

“You were right. It’s not all that fancy, but the people are nice. An old guy on a bench got me headed in the right direction,” she said. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he said, finally looking up.

If she could tell how unnerved he was, she gave no sign. “Did you finish all you needed to get done?”

“I checked the cattle, split some firewood, picked up a few things at the store.”

“Sounds exciting,” she said. Shading her eyes, she turned slowly in a circle, surveying her surroundings. By then, Dog had trotted up and introduced himself, twining around her legs. “I take it this is Dog.”

“The one and only.”

She squatted down, scratching behind his ears. His tail thumped in appreciation. “You have a terrible name, Dog,” she whispered, lavishing attention on him. His tail only thumped harder. “It’s beautiful here. Is it all yours?”

“My mom’s. But yes, it’s all part of the ranch.”

“How big is it?”

“A little more than eight hundred acres,” he said.

She frowned. “That means nothing to me, you know. I’m from New Jersey. City girl? Remember?”

He liked the way she said it. “How about this?” he offered. “It starts at the road where you turned in and goes a mile and a half in that direction, ending at the river. The land is shaped kind of like a fan, narrower at the road and getting wider toward the river, where it’s more than two miles wide.”

“That helps,” she said.

“Does it?”

“Not really. How many city blocks is that?”

Her question caught him off guard and she laughed at his expression. “I have no idea.”

“I’m kidding,” she said, rising. “But this is impressive. I’ve never been on a ranch before.” She motioned toward the house behind her. “And this is your house?”

He turned, following her gaze. “I built it a couple of years ago.”

“And when you say you built it…”

“I did most of it, except for the plumbing and the electrical. I don’t have a license for those things. But the layout and the framing, that was all me.”

“Of course it was you,” she said. “And I’ll bet that if my car breaks down, you’ll know how to fix that, too.”

He squinted toward her car. “Probably.”

“You’re like… old-fashioned. A real man’s man. A lot of guys don’t know how to do that stuff anymore.”

He couldn’t tell whether she was impressed or teasing him, but he realized that he liked the way she kept him slightly off balance. Somehow it made her seem older than most of the girls he knew.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

For a moment, it seemed as if she weren’t quite sure what to make of his comment. “I’m glad I’m here, too. Thanks for inviting me.”

He cleared his throat, thinking about that. “I had an idea that maybe I’d show you around the place.”

“On horseback?”

“There’s a nice spot down by the river,” he said, not answering her question directly.

“Is it romantic?”

Luke wasn’t quite sure how to answer that, either. “I like it, I guess,” he said in a faltering voice.

“Good enough for me,” she said, laughing. She pointed toward the boots he was holding. “Am I supposed to wear those?”

“They’re my mom’s. I don’t know if they’ll fit, but they’ll help with the stirrups. I put some socks in there. They’re mine and they’re probably too big, but they’re clean.”

“I trust you,” she said. “If you can fix cars and build houses, I’m sure you know how to run a washer and dryer. Can I try them on?”

He handed them to her and tried not to marvel at the fit of her jeans as she walked to the porch. Dog trailed behind her, his tail wagging and tongue hanging out, as if he’d discovered his new best friend. As soon as she sat, Dog began to nuzzle at her hand again, and he took that as a good sign – Dog wasn’t normally so friendly. From the shade, he watched as Sophia slipped off her flats. She moved with a fluid grace, pulling on the socks and sliding her feet comfortably into the boots. She stood and took a few tentative steps.

“I’ve never worn cowboy boots before,” she said, staring at her feet. “How do they look?”

“You look like you’re wearing boots.”

She gave an easy, rolling laugh, then began pacing the porch, staring again at the boots on her feet. “I guess I do,” she said, and turned to face him. “Do I look like a cowgirl?”

“You’d need a hat for that.”

“Let me try yours on,” she said, holding out her hand.

Luke walked toward her and removed his hat, feeling less in control than he’d felt on the bulls last night. He handed it to her and she slipped it on, tilting it back on her head. “How’s this?”

Perfect, he thought, as perfect as any girl he’d ever seen. He smiled through the sudden dryness in his throat, thinking, I’m in serious trouble.

“Now you look like a cowgirl.”

She grinned, obviously pleased by that. “I think I’ll keep this today. If it’s okay with you.”

“I’ve got plenty,” he said, barely hearing himself. He shuffled his boots again, trying to stay centered. “How was it last night?” he asked. “I’ve been wondering if you had any more trouble.”

She stepped down from the porch. “It was fine. Marcia was right where I’d left her.”

“Did Brian bother you?”

“No,” she answered. “I think he was worried you might still be around. Besides, we didn’t stay long. Only another half hour or so. I was tired.” By then, she’d drawn close to him. “I like the boots and hat. They’re comfortable. I should probably thank your mom. Is she here?”

“No, she’s at the main house. I can tell her later, though.”

“What? You don’t want me to meet her?”

“It’s not that. She’s kind of angry with me this morning.”

“Why?”

“It’s a long story.”

Sophia tilted her head up at him. “You said the same thing last night when I asked you why you rode bulls,” she remarked. “I think you say ‘It’s a long story’ when what you really mean is ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ Am I right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She laughed, her face flushing with pleasure. “So what’s next?”

“I guess we can head to the barn,” he said. “You said you wanted to see it.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “You know I really didn’t come here to see the barn, right?”

7

Sophia

O
kay, she thought to herself as soon as the words left her mouth. Maybe that was a little too forward.

She blamed it on Marcia. If only Marcia hadn’t pestered her with questions last night and all morning about what had happened the night before and the fact that she was going to the ranch today; if only she hadn’t vetoed the first two outfits that Sophia had selected, all the while repeating, “I can’t believe you’re going riding with that hottie!” then Sophia wouldn’t have been so nervous. Eye candy. Hot. Hottie. Marcia insisted on using those words instead of his name. As in, “So Mr. Eye Candy swooped in and saved you, huh?” or, “What did you and the hottie talk about?” or simply, “He’s so hot!” It was no wonder she’d missed the turn after getting off the highway; by the time she’d pulled in the drive, she could feel a tiny bead of sweat trickling down her rib cage. She wasn’t necessarily anxious, but she was definitely on edge, and whenever that happened she talked a lot and found herself taking cues from people like Marcia and Mary-Kate. But then sometimes her old self would come barreling through and she’d blurt out things better left unsaid. Like today. And last night, when she said she’d like to go horseback riding.

And Luke hadn’t helped matters. He’d walked up to her car in that soft chambray work shirt and jeans, his brown curls trying to escape his hat. He’d barely raised those long-lashed blue eyes, surprising her with his shyness, when she felt her stomach do a little flip. She liked him…
really
liked him. But more than that, for whatever reason, she trusted him. She had the impression that his world was ordered by a sense of right and wrong, that he had integrity. He wasn’t preoccupied with pretending to be something he wasn’t, and his face was an open book. When she surprised him, she could see it instantly; when she teased him, he laughed easily at himself. By the time he finally mentioned the barn… well, she just couldn’t help herself.

Although she thought she detected something that resembled a blush, he just ducked his head and popped inside to grab another hat. When he returned, they set off side by side, falling into an easy rhythm. Dog ran ahead and then came rushing back to them before darting off in yet another direction, a moving bundle of energy. Little by little, she felt her anxiety dissipate. They skirted the grove of trees that surrounded his house, angling toward the main drive. As the vista opened before her, she took in the main house, with its big covered porch and black shutters, backed by a copse of towering trees. Beyond it stood the aging barn and lush pastures nestled amid green rolling hills. In the distance, the banks of a small lake were dotted with cattle, smoky blue-tipped mountains near the horizon framing the landscape like a postcard. On the opposite side of the drive stood a grove of Christmas trees, planted in neat, straight rows. A breeze moved through the grove, making a soft fluting sound that resembled music.

“I can’t believe you grew up here,” she breathed, taking it all in. She motioned toward the house. “Is that where your mom lives?”

“I was actually born in that farmhouse.”

“What? No horses fast enough to get to the hospital?”

He laughed, seemingly more relaxed since they’d left his house. “A lady on the next ranch over used to be a midwife. She’s a good friend of my mom’s, and it was a way to save some money. She’s like that – my mom, I mean. She’s kind of a hawk when it comes to expenses.”

“Even for childbirth?”

“I’m not sure she was fazed by childbirth. Living on a farm, she’d been around a lot of births. Besides, she was born in the house, too, so she was probably thinking, What’s the big deal?”

Sophia felt the gravel crunching beneath her boots. “How long has your family owned the ranch?” she asked.

“A long time. My great-grandfather bought most of it in the 1920s, and then, when the Depression hit, he was able to add to it. He was a pretty good businessman. From there, it became my grandfather’s, and then my mom’s. She took over when she was twenty-two.”

As he answered, she looked around, amazed at how remote it felt despite its proximity to the highway. They passed the farmhouse, and on the far side there were smaller weather-beaten wooden structures surrounded by fencing. When the wind shifted, Sophia caught the scent of conifer and oak. Everything about the ranch was a refreshing change from the campus where she spent most of her time. Just like Luke, she thought, but she tried not to dwell on the observation. “What are those buildings?” she asked, pointing.

“The closest one is the henhouse, where we keep the chickens. And behind that is where we keep the hogs. Not many, only three or four at a time. Like I mentioned last night, we mainly do cattle here.”

“How many do you have?”

“More than two hundred pair,” he said. “We also have nine bulls.”

She furrowed her brow. “Pair?”

“A mature cow and her calf.”

“Then why don’t you just say you have four hundred?”

“That’s just the way they’re counted, I guess. So you know the size of the herd you can offer for sale that year. We don’t sell the calves. Others do – that’s veal – but we’re known for our grass-fed, organic beef. Our customers are mainly high-end restaurants.”

They followed the fence line, approaching an ancient live oak with massed limbs that spread in all directions like a spider. As they passed beneath the canopy of its limbs, they were greeted with a shrill assortment of bird cries, sounding their warnings. Sophia lifted her gaze to the barn as they neared it, realizing that Luke hadn’t been kidding. It looked abandoned, the entire structure listing slightly and held together by rotting boards. Ivy and kudzu crawled up the sides, and a section of the roof appeared entirely stripped of shingles.

He nodded toward it. “What do you think?”

“I’m wondering if you ever think of razing it, just to show mercy?”

“It’s sturdier than it looks. We just keep it this way for effect.”

“Maybe,” she said with a skeptical expression. “Either that, or you’ve never gotten around to fixing it.”

“What are you talking about? You should have seen it before the repairs.”

She smiled. He thought he was so funny. “Is that where you keep the horses?”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t put them in that death trap.”

This time, she laughed despite herself. “What do you use the barn for, then?”

“Storage, mostly. The mechanical bull is in there, too, and that’s where I practice, but other than that, it’s mainly filled with broken stuff. A couple of broken-down trucks, a tractor from the fifties, used well pumps, broken heat pumps, stripped engines. Most of it is junk, but like I said, my mom is funny about expenses. Sometimes I can find a part that I need to fix whatever needs fixing.”

“Does that happen a lot? That you find something?”

“Not too much. But I can’t order a part until after I check. It’s one of my mom’s rules.”

Beyond the barn stood a small stable, open on one side to a medium-size corral. Three big-chested horses studied them as they approached. Sophia watched as Luke opened the door to the stable and produced three apples from the sack he’d been carrying.

“Horse! Get over here!” he called out, and at his command a chestnut-colored horse ambled in his direction. The two darker horses followed. “Horse is mine,” he explained. “The others are Friendly and Demon.”

She hung back, knitting her brows in concern. “I think I should probably ride Friendly, huh?” she said.

“I wouldn’t,” he said. “He bites and he’ll try to throw you. He’s awful for anyone but my mom. Demon, on the other hand, is a sweetheart.”

She shook her head. “What is it with you and animal names?” By the time she turned toward the pasture again, Horse had sidled up close, dwarfing her. She stepped back quickly, though Horse – focused on Luke and the apples – didn’t appear to notice her.

“Can I pet him?”

“Of course,” he said, holding out the apple. “He likes his nose rubbed. And scratch him behind the ears.”

She wasn’t ready to touch his nose, but she ran her fingers gently behind the ears, watching as they tilted in pleasure, even as the horse continued to chomp on the apple.

Luke led Horse to a stall, and Sophia watched as he readied it for the ride: bridle, pad, and eventually the saddle, every movement practiced and unconscious. As he worked, his jeans pulling tight as he bent over, Sophia felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Luke was just about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. She quickly turned away, pretending to study the rafters as he finished up and turned to saddle Demon.

“Okay,” he said, adjusting the stirrup lengths. “You ready?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “But I’ll try. You’re sure he’s a sweetheart?”

“He’s like a baby,” Luke assured her. “Just put your hand on the horn and put your left boot in the stirrup. Then just swing your leg over.”

She did as he told her, climbing onto the horse even as her heart began to race. As she tried to get comfortable, it occurred to her that the horse beneath her was like a giant muscle ready to flex.

“Umm… it’s higher than I thought it would be.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said, handing her the reins. Before she had time to protest, he was already on Horse, obviously at ease.

“Demon doesn’t need much,” he said. “Just touch the reins against his neck and he’ll turn for you, like this. And to make him go, just tap his sides with your heels. To make him stop, pull back.” He demonstrated a couple of times, making sure she understood.

“You do remember that this is my first time, right?” she asked.

“You told me.”

“And just so you know, I have no desire to do anything crazy. I don’t want to fall off. One of my sorority sisters broke her arm on one of these animals, and I don’t want to be stuck wearing a cast while I have to write papers.”

He scratched at his cheek, waiting. “Are you finished?” he asked.

“I’m just setting the ground rules.”

He sighed, shaking his head in amusement. “City girls,” he said, and with a flick of his wrist, Horse turned and began walking away. A moment later, Luke had leaned over and lifted the gate latch, allowing it to swing open. He made his way through it, the stall blocking her line of sight. “You’re supposed to follow me,” he called out.

With her heart still beating fast and her mouth dry as sawdust, she took a deep breath. There was no reason she couldn’t do this. She could ride a bike, and this wasn’t all that different, right? People rode horses every day.
Little kids
rode horses, so how hard could it be? And even if it was hard, so what? She could do hard. English lit with Professor Aldair was hard. Working fourteen hours in the deli on Saturdays when all her friends were going to the city was hard. Letting Brian run her through the wringer – now that had been hard. Steeling herself, she fluttered the reins and tapped Demon on the sides.

Nothing.

She tapped again.

His ear twitched, but otherwise he remained as immobile as a statue.

Okay, not so easy, she thought. Demon obviously wanted to stay home.

Luke and Horse wandered back into view. He lifted the brim of his hat. “Are you coming?” he asked.

“He doesn’t want to move,” she explained.

“Tap him and tell him what you want him to do. Use the reins. He needs to feel that you know what you’re doing.”

Fat chance, she thought. I have no idea what I’m doing. She tapped again, and still nothing.

Luke pointed at the horse like a schoolteacher reprimanding a child. “Quit messing around, Demon,” he finally barked. “You’re scaring her. Get over here.” Miraculously, his words were enough to get the horse moving without Sophia doing anything at all. But because she was caught off guard, she rocked backward in the saddle and then, trying to keep her balance, instinctively lunged forward.

Demon’s ear twitched again, as if he were wondering if the whole thing was some sort of practical joke.

She held the reins with both hands, ready to make him turn, but Demon didn’t need her. He passed through the gate, snorting at Horse as he passed, and then stopped while Luke shut the gate behind her and returned to her side.

He kept Horse at a slow but steady walk, and Demon was content to walk beside him without any work at all on her part. They crossed the drive and veered onto a path that skirted the last row of Christmas trees.

The scent of evergreen was stronger here, reminding her of the holidays. As she gradually grew used to the rhythm of the horse’s gait, she felt small weights lifting from her body and her breathing returning to normal.

The far end of the grove gave way to a thin strand of forest, maybe a football field wide. The horses picked their way through an overgrown trail, almost on autopilot, uphill and then downhill, winding deeper into an untamed world. Behind them, the ranch slowly drifted from view, gradually making her feel as if she were in a distant land.

Luke was content to leave her alone with her thoughts as they made their way deeper into the trees. Dog ran ahead, nose to the ground, vanishing and reappearing as he veered this way and that. She ducked beneath a low-hanging branch and watched from the corner of her eye as Luke leaned to avoid another, the ground becoming rockier and densely carpeted. Thickets of blackberries and holly bushes sprouted in clumps, hugging the moss-covered trunks of oak trees. Squirrels darted along the branches of hickory trees, chattering a warning, while shafts of fractured sunlight cut through the foliage, lending her surroundings a dreamlike quality.

BOOK: The Longest Ride
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