Freeing Him: A Hart Brothers Novel, Book 2 (35 page)
Read Freeing Him: A Hart Brothers Novel, Book 2 Online
Authors: A.M. Hargrove
Kolson stops and asks, “You think he would approve, Grady?”
“Oh, indeed, sir, he would. Look at him. He sure is a beauty. And wait until you ride him. Not as spirited as Storm was, but I’ll bet you he’ll get there with a little more age on him.”
Kolson walks up to me and then shocks me when he picks me up and twirls me around. “Thank you. Xander is the best.” He rains dozens of kisses across my face as I laugh.
“I suppose you’ll want to change. I brought some clothes for you. They’re in the car.”
Then Grady mentions that he actually brought Kolson’s riding gear from the mansion. “There’s a changing area over there.”
While Kolson changes, Grady saddles the horse. Sam and I chat a bit and then we follow horse and rider to the ring and watch as Kolson puts Xander through his paces. Then Kolson and Grady talk for a minute and Grady leads the horse outside the ring to a place where they can ride in the open. I watch them take off and I know this was a great idea.
“Dr. M., you did great here.”
“Yeah, Sam, I’d have to agree. But there is one thing.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“You’re going to have to start calling me Dr. H.”
We both laugh a bit. Then I wonder if Kolson wouldn’t want a weekend house up here so he can be closer to Xander. Or even one that would be large enough to have a stable of its own.
Kolson returns from his ride and decides to take the trip home in his riding clothes. His face is flushed from the ride and I’d say he’s on top of the world with joy.
“He’s beautiful, kea. An absolutely gorgeous horse. I couldn’t have selected anything better.”
“Grady was the biggest help. I wouldn’t have known where to start without him. I know nothing about horses. But he knew exactly where to go.”
“But it was your idea and that’s what counts. Thank you a million times. I thought about getting another one, but it frightened me. Xander will never be to me what Storm was, but he’ll certainly help fill a void.”
I hold out my hand and say, “Let’s go home.”
He flashes me a look. One that says so much more than any words can convey.
“Haven’t you figured this out by now?”
“Figured out what?”
“I am home. I’m always home when I’m with you, kea. No matter where we are.”
We link our hands and walk back to the waiting car.
Kolson’s right. Home is in our hearts. And no matter where we are, as long as we are together, it’s home for both of us.
The End
Just a Tiny Request...
If you enjoyed
Freeing Him,
please consider leaving a review wherever you purchased this e-book. If you could help spread the word, that would also be appreciated. Tell your family, friends, aunts, cousins, uncles, (well, maybe not your uncles—not unless they like romance novels!). Hell, tell your frenemies. Whatever. Run around naked, screaming about it at the top of your lungs. We Indie Authors appreciate any kind of buzz, so I’ll take anything, as long as it doesn’t come with a drive-by egging. Or illegal substances. Just saying. ;-) This author thanks you in advance for doing so and if I ever meet you in person, you might just get a hug.
A.M. Hargrove divides her time between the mountains of North Carolina and the upstate of South Carolina where she pursues her dream career of writing. Her family considers her crazy, her friends will agree, but she’s always game for some fun times. If she could change anything in the world, she would make chocolate and ice cream a part of the USDA food groups. Annie writes romance in several genres, including adult, new adult, and young adult. Her books usually include lots of suspense and thrills and she sometimes ventures into the paranormal, sci-fi and fantasy blend.
Her books include the
following:
Freeing Her
and Freeing Him
(The Hart Brothers Series)
Tragically Flawed
and
Tragic Desires
(The Tragic Series)
The Edge Series:
Edge of Disaster
, Shattered Edge
, and
Kissing Fire
Dark Waltz
and Death Waltz
—release 12/2014
(The Praestani Novels)
The Guardians of Vesturon:
Beginnings—A Prequel Novella
,
Survival
,
Resurrection
,
Determinant
, and
reEmergent
You can stalk her at any of the following (She LOVES to be stalked):
www.facebook.com/AMHargroveAuthor
www.facebook.com/anne.m.hargrove
If you were intrigued by the characters of Drexel and Gemini Wolfe in
Freeing Him
, you may want to read on for a sneak peek of
Tragic Desires
(Tragic 2).
For weeks the
drowning rains had kept me from doing what I love best, but today, the sun is bright, the sky as blue as a summer’s day. Unusually warm for November, this means today is all about the mountain bike, the trails, and me.
Boulder, Colorado, offers plenty of places to choose from, but I decide on a combination of linked loop trails. They’re all technically difficult, but I’m an expert—the tougher, the better. My roommate and boyfriend, Nick, gives me hell as I get dressed.
“Gemini, you know I hate it when you go off by yourself like this. It’s not safe.”
“We’ve been over this a dozen times. I’ll be fine. No one will hurt me out there.”
“I’m not worried about that and you know it, damn it. What if you fall?”
I laugh at him. “Nick, I always fall. It comes with the sport.”
He sighs. “Yeah, and even the best riders get injured.” Then he shakes his head and stomps off. He’s pissed at me, but I
have
to do this. I’ve been penned up for weeks and I need the feel of the open space and the wind on my cheeks.
I follow him to our bedroom and lay my hand on his arm. “Hey, I’ll be back before you know it.” I kiss his cheek and leave.
A part of me knows he’s right … a big part. But I shove that thought away and feel the energy build as I think about what the day holds for me.
When I reach
the parking lot, I can barely contain my excitement. I unload my bike, gear up, clip into my pedals, and I’m off. It’s crazy how giddy I feel, but it’s such an adrenaline rush for me to ride. Nothing deters me from this sport … not the sweat, grime, mud, nothing. I’m not afraid of the steep descents or the sharp inclines. My body handles the jarring jumps as I move over fallen trees, rocks, and roots. Most of the time, my face is fixed into a permanent smile during these excursions. I was born to do this. My bike and I become one as we move over the rough terrain.
The trail I’m on is a single track, and brush and vines snag my clothing, but I couldn’t care less. I’m in heaven. As I round the curve, to my left is the wall of a cliff and to my right, a fifty-foot drop. In the center of the path is a huge root, so I veer right and ride over a large rock embedded into the soil. There’s plenty of clearance so I’m not concerned … except that large, stable rock isn’t so stable after all. Weeks and weeks of rain must’ve washed away the earth beneath it.
Everything happens so fast, I don’t have time to think, to unclip and bail off my bike, or to do anything but go down as my bike descends. In a flash, I’m free-falling down the side of a cliff. A thicket of trees and shrubs rips me off my bike, tearing my clothes, slicing into my flesh, but it doesn’t stop me. I continue to fall until my body slams into solid ground. Bones crunch and agony slashes through me as the wind gushes out of my lungs. The final jolt is when my head strikes the earth. The resounding boom echoes in my ears, and the horrific pain drowns out everything else.
My arms automatically reach for my head, but only one will move. There’s no thought as to why the other one can’t; I only want the pain in my skull to cease. When my hand hits my helmet, I find it’s broken into three pieces, the strap still attached beneath my chin. Then the dizziness rolls over me and I become confused. When I try to sit up, a wave of intense nausea passes over me and the pain intensifies. It’s impossible to inhale so I lie still for a second, hoping it will pass.
The next thing I know, I’m looking at thousands of stars twinkling at me.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
It takes a couple minutes for me to figure out that I’m lying in mud. What the hell is going on? Where am I? My head. Oh dear God! What did I do to my head? It’s piercing, pounding, and throbbing all at once. My hands reach up to hold it and a searing pain runs through my left arm. I scream. But only for a second because it makes the torture in my ribs that much more excruciating.
What happened to me? My entire body suffers unbearably. I can’t remember anything!
Where the hell am I? It’s so cold out here, I know I need to move. Rolling to my side, I force myself to my feet. Dizziness threatens to bring me down, but I know if I stay here, I’ll die. I’m shivering. I need to get out before severe hypothermia sets in.
Pushing through the thick forest brush proves nearly impossible. At times I’m barely aware of what I’m doing but I force one foot in front of the other. Night turns to day and then night again. I press on but am close to giving up at daybreak. In the distance, a tent glows, reflective of the sunrise, but I’m sure I’m hallucinating. As I get closer, the tent looks so real, but I know it’s my imagination playing a cruel trick. This is the end of the line. My feet carry me to right outside the tent and my legs crumple.
Voices surround me
. My body is jostled around and it’s terribly painful. When I try to lift my head, I can’t because it’s strapped down.
“What’s happening? Who are you?”
A strange voice answers, “Search and rescue. We’re getting you out of here.”
Where the hell is here? What happened? I’m so confused. I grit my teeth because all this motion hurts like hell and makes me so dizzy. We’ve come to a stop and they push me into the back of a vehicle. More bouncing around. A man sits next to me and explains we’re on a forest road and it won’t take long until we hit the main road where an ambulance is waiting.
“Thank you.” I don’t know what else to say. I can’t remember a damn thing and I’m totally freaked.
The ambulance is there as promised, and they move me to a gurney. When they do, I scream.
One of them says, “Get a line started STAT.”
Someone tries to lift my arm and I squeal again. Everything hurts.
“Try her other arm.”
They move to my other arm and I guess it’s fine because I’m in and out of what’s happening here. Then one of them asks, “Miss, are you allergic to anything?”
“No,” I mumble.
“We’re going to give you something for pain.”
Thank heavens for that. As soon as I feel the effects, I drift.
Someone is talking
to me. “Miss, we’re at the hospital in Boulder.”
When I try to lift my head, I notice they have it strapped again. They wheel me inside and the lights are so bright, I can barely stand them. Everything is a blur because of the pain medication. I wake up again and I’m in a bed in a room. Nick is sitting in the chair.