World Enough and Time (22 page)

I didn’t even bother with a saddle. Instead, I grabbed my bridle and a brush out of the tack room and slipped out to the pasture where Calypso was turned out. When I whistled for him, he looked up from grazing, grass hanging out of his mouth and ears pricked up. He greeted me with a shrill whinny and trotted to the gate when I stepped into the pasture.

“Hey, you.” I scratched his neck. He sniffed my pockets, searching for grain or candy, and I laughed. It didn’t matter what was on my mind, their childlike innocence and adoration always melted my heart.

I ran the brush over him, getting rid of some of the dried mud that had crusted on his coat after his morning roll. A pig didn’t enjoy mud as much as Calypso did. Still, he was easier to clean than a blanket, and just brushing him was enough to soothe some of my nerves. I must have spent hours grooming my two horses every day for a month after Matt and I had broken up.

I needed a little more than that today, though, so I put the brush aside and lifted the bridle off the fencepost where I’d hung it. Calypso put his head down, looking at me as if to say, “Aww, Mom, do we have to?”

“Come on, you like trail rides.” I pressed the bit against his lips. He tried to turn away, but I pulled him back and nudged his mouth again. After a second, he reluctantly opened it to take the bit. “There, see? That’s not so bad.” He just quietly chewed on it while I fastened the throatlatch and cavesson.

I opened the gate, then hoisted myself onto Calypso’s back. As soon as the farm was fading behind us, my stomach started to settle. One by one, my nerves calmed while Calypso plodded down the narrow, sun-dappled trail through the woods. The world around us was silent except for the dull cadence of hooves on dirt.

My stomach still kept itself tied in knots, but I was infinitely more relaxed than when I left my apartment. This would be a long ride, of that I had no doubt. The longer I rode, the better I’d feel. Out here, nothing else mattered. Just a woman and her horse, leaving the rest of the universe to its worries and stresses. I knew of no better way to escape.

When the trail split, I steered Calypso to the left. We had no one to race, but I needed the adrenaline rush of a few sprints up some hills.

Up ahead, the trail swept upward into a long, steep hill. Calypso danced sideways, chomping at his bit. I knew what he wanted, and normally I’d make him walk when he got antsy like this, but today, I wanted the same thing he did.

Holding on with my thighs, I leaned forward and prodded him gently with my heel. Like a shot from a cannon, he burst into a gallop and thundered up the hill. I eased my grip on the reins and just let him go, closing my eyes against the wind that whipped my hair and clothes.

At the top of the hill, I brought him back down to a walk, patting his neck while he caught his breath and continued up the trail. My heart pounded and my skin tingled from the wind. Though my worries still coiled themselves in my stomach, they were quieter now, grudgingly allowing themselves to be pushed aside and stressed over later.

Yes, this was what I needed. I’d heard it said that there was nothing a good day on a horse couldn’t cure, and today, I realized how true that was. This wouldn’t solve everything in my life. It wouldn’t make my relationship with Connor any easier to leave behind, it wouldn’t get me back to Cheyenne, it wouldn’t make my boss a tolerable human being. But it made me feel better now, and that was as much as I could ask for.

Closing in on another hill, Calypso danced sideways. I gathered my reins, leaned forward, and let him carry me away from the rest of the world.

Chapter Twenty-Five

My ringing cell phone startled me.

I muted the television and picked up my phone off the coffee table. As soon as I saw the caller ID, I groaned aloud. Connor had been in California for a few days and I was much too busy being pathetic and feeling sorry for myself to deal with Matt, but he was calling anyway.

Knowing him, he’d leave a voice message if I ignored his call. If I ignored the message, he’d call again. Might as well nip it in the bud now.

“Hello?”
“Hey, Dani,” he said.

“What’s up?” I tried not to sound as irritated as I was, but didn’t particularly care if I did.

“Listen, you know that stuff you picked up a while back?”

I craned my neck and gave the unopened boxes beside the couch a quick look. They were still in the same place I’d unceremoniously dumped them a week or two after I’d picked them up, when they were taking up too much space in my trunk. “Yeah, it’s all right here.”

“I think I might have given you the wrong box,” he said. “I still have one here that’s got your stuff in it, and I’m missing a box of—” He paused. “Some stuff I need.”

“Let me take a look.” I pushed myself up off the couch and didn’t bother trying to hide the groan of annoyance as I did. Cradling the phone on my shoulder, I opened the first box.

This was definitely my stuff: A few photos, some candles, a pair of shoes I vaguely remembered looking for a while ago. I set it aside and reached for the other box.

“Do you see anything?” he asked.

“Hold on, I’m looking in the second one now.” I moved the phone to my other shoulder and pulled open the second box’s flaps. As soon as I did, I couldn’t help but clench my teeth.

A little wooden box I’d never seen before. Three or four romance paperbacks. A shimmery purple jacket that definitely wasn’t mine.

“This must be what you’re looking for,” I said. “I’m assuming it’s not yours?”
“Um, no, it’s—” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, yeah, I need to get that from you.”

“I’ll bring it over.”

“It’s all right. I can come and—”

“No, I’ll bring it over. I need to get out of the house for a bit anyway.”
And I’d rather you didn’t know where I live
. “I can be there in twenty or so.”

“Well, okay. It’s your call.”

“I’ll be there in a few.”

I threw my purse on top of the offending box and left my apartment before I had a chance to talk myself into not going to Matt’s. Though “something to do” beat sitting at home and wishing Connor was there, visiting my ex wasn’t high on my list. Still, the sooner I got his—
her
—things out of my house, the better.

On the drive over, it occurred to me more than once that she might be there. I wondered what she was like, this woman whose existence had never been directly confirmed. Thus far, I knew her only as an abstract shape of a person, a collection of nebulous hints that alluded to her existence. She liked
Vogue
. She wore shimmery purple jackets, drank espresso, and read romance. She kept houseplants alive and kept warm one side of a bed that used to be mine.

It still stung that someone had moved into my world before my relationship with Matt was lukewarm in the grave, but I couldn’t find the energy to be jealous. Whatever part of my mind once manufactured things like jealousy and bitterness was occupied now with creating copious amounts of impatience and longing for this week to be over so I could be in Connor’s arms again.

I smiled to myself when I pulled into the parking lot. Though Connor’s departure in a few short weeks was sure to hurt like hell, he’d certainly gotten Matt out of my mind. I’d finally gotten over him.
Getting over Connor is going to be an entirely differ
—

“No need to worry about that now,” I said aloud, banishing the thoughts from my mind. I got out of the car and grabbed the box from the backseat.

At Matt’s door, I shifted the box onto one hip and knocked. In an instant, the room on the other side was alive with voices—male
and
female—and movement. The male voice came nearer and I recognized Matt’s irritated growl.

He opened the door and I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at his flustered expression.

“Come on in,” he muttered, standing aside and waving me across the threshold.

A brunette stood on the other side of the living room, hips cocked and arms folded across her chest. Her lips twisted into a scowl and she glared at Matt.

“Does she
need
to come in?”

Matt let out a hiss of breath. “Jesus, Lynn—”

I shifted my weight. “I don’t have to stay. If I’m intruding, I can just take my stuff and go.”

Lynn opened her mouth to speak, but a pointed look from Matt stopped her. The fury in her eyes told me he was going to hear about it after I left.

“I guess I should at least introduce you two,” he said. “Uh, Dani, this is Lynn.” He gestured toward her and they exchanged looks. The lift of her eyebrows and the tightness in her lips said loud and clear that he was in deep shit if he said the wrong thing. Or didn’t say the right thing. Clearing his throat, he looked me in the eye and added, “My girlfriend.”

At that, she smiled, but the narrowness of her eyes made it look more like a sneer.

“Oh.” I offered a much more genuine smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she growled.

“Well, I, um, I’d better go.” I inched toward the door.

“Wait,” Lynn said. “Before she goes, I want to make sure everything is here.” The thinly-veiled accusation probably should have offended me, but her hostility was almost comical. I had to fight to keep from grinning.

“Lynn, she’s not going to
steal
anything.” Matt sounded disgusted. “I’m sure it’s all—” He stopped when she glared at him. To me, he said, “You don’t mind?”

“No, not at all.”
Especially because it’s obviously making you uncomfortable
.

While Lynn opened the box, Matt’s eyes darted back and forth from me to her, from his past to his present. He looked about as comfortable as a mouse between two cats.

Then he jumped like he’d been shocked. “Oh, I almost forgot. I need to get that box of your stuff.” He made a quick escape, leaving me alone with Lynn.

She crouched and riffled through the box, inspecting each item as if she expected to find some minute vandalism. Her mouth twisted into an ugly sneer when she picked up the shimmery purple jacket, and her eyes flicked toward me before she tossed the jacket on a nearby chair. For a second, she eyed it as if it was stained simply from being in my home for a few weeks. Then she closed the flaps on the box and stood. “Looks like it’s all there.”

“Should be,” I said. “I didn’t even open it until he called, and then I just put it in the car.”

She glanced at me and sniffed. I swore she was disappointed that she hadn’t found something in that box to piss her off.

“Matt!” she screeched down the hall. “Hurry up.”

Something rustled in another room, then Matt called back, “Just a minute, it’s under a few things in here.”

Lynn huffed and folded her arms across her chest. In a way, I felt sorry for her. She was probably perfectly pleasant when she wasn’t blindsided by her man’s ex like this. Knowing Matt, he hadn’t told her I was coming until minutes before I came to the door. Still, I couldn’t help but find her attitude amusing.

I looked around the apartment. All the little changes I’d noticed before had an identity now. The plants were hers. The magazines had her name on them. The coffee cup beside the espresso maker had her lipstick on the edge.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” I said, making sure to sound as genuinely pleasant as I could.

She folded her arms across her chest and looked around, surveying her territory. “Just needed a woman’s touch, I guess.” The lift of her eyebrow sought a reaction from my face, but I offered none.

“I always thought it would look nice with some houseplants,” I said, admiring a potted plant on the end table a foot or so away from me.

She said nothing. Whether or not it was my imagination, I couldn’t say, but I thought for sure I heard an indignant growl coming from the back of her throat, muffled by her tightly drawn lips. My own lips were all that stood between me and letting her know just how much her attitude amused me. I pressed them together, smothering a laugh.

Fortunately, Matt chose just that moment to reappear, carrying a box in front of him. “This should be all of your stuff.”

I took it from him. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to have a look and make sure?” he asked, eyes darting toward Lynn.

I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll go through it when I get home.”

“Um, okay,” he said. “Well, uh, call me if anything is missing.”

“Will do.” I started toward the door, but paused. “Nice to meet you, Lynn.” I smiled at her, knowing it irritated her to no end. She gave me the same half-smile, half-sneer as earlier, then went into the kitchen.

Matt walked me to the door. “Thanks for bringing that stuff by.” He glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “Sorry she wasn’t very polite.”

I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. She probably doesn’t like your ex on her turf.” The words echoed in my mind.
Her turf
. Funny how it barely registered that this was once
my
turf, that it was once my
home
, but all I could think now was
keep it, sweetheart, and everything that comes with it
.

“Well, she didn’t have to be rude,” he said. “Anyway, thanks.”

“No problem.” I shifted the box on my hip. “Thanks for holding onto this stuff for me.”

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly. He chewed his lip and dropped his gaze. There was something on his mind. Something he was working up the nerve to say.

I didn’t know what it was, only that I didn’t care to hear it. Our time for uncomfortable discussions, difficult questions, and awkward confessions had long since passed, so I took a step away from the door.

“I’d better go,” I said. “I still have some errands to run. Thanks again.”

He startled, his lips parting as if to protest. For a moment, I thought he was going to ask me to wait while he tried to say whatever it was on his mind, but he bit it back. “Sure. No problem. I’ll, um, I’ll see you around.”

“See you around, Matt.” I turned on my heel, walked away, and didn’t look back.