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Authors: Kylie Kaemke

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BOOK: Heavy Hearts
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I get back to the house and Helen tells me that Malcolm is sitting in the living room waiting for me. I am actually finding that I am excited to see him, and I want to feel his lips against mine again. Of course, this is the absolute wrong thing to be thinking.

I skip into the living room full of pep giddy to see Malcolm. “So, you just couldn’t stay away long could y-” I am frozen instantly with a look of shock stuck on my face as I stand in front of the exact opposite of Malcolm… someone who
m I thought I would never see again.

“Hey kid, it’s been awhile huh…?” He stands there taller than the last time I had seen him and older. Three years can change a person and if he hadn’t been such an important part of my life when I was freshly seventeen years old I
don’t know that I would have even recognized the boy who taught me how to love, and how to feel true pain.

“Finn,” I gasp. Just saying his name brings on a tidal wave of memories and I can feel myself becoming weak in the knees as I lower myself down to an armchair to keep from falling. This is the last thing I need.

Chapter 15

 

When I was eight years old my father bought a breathtakingly gorgeous piece of land in Cherry Valley, New York. This is where I preferred to spend my summers rather than in the Hamptons with the rest of my cousins. (This is also when I fell out of contact with Malcolm, but we’re not talking about him here.)

Dad wanted to expand his business horizons, and for some reason he chose horses. I wasn’t complaining, however. I loved the ranch for so many reasons but it wasn’t until I was newly seventeen that I really learned to appreciate its true potential.

“Wouldn’t you rather be lying on the beach and enjoying the exotic boys then rolling in the dirt and getting chewed up by mosquitos?” My mother pouted. She wanted to get away and go to St. Thomas for the summer, but I insisted on the ranch as usual. I tried to get her to let me take one of the cars and she could go to the Caribbean without me, but she wasn’t having it. I had my license for about three weeks by now, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t drive myself.

“You could’ve gone.” I snapped back.

“Lucy… I wasn’t going to let a sixteen year old girl drive almost four hours by herself. Plus, your father isn’t going to be there for another two weeks. You can’t be alone that long.”

“Mom, I’m seventeen… remember my birthday was just a few days ago?” Although I wasn’t shocked she didn’t remember. It’s not like we celebrated together. She was somewhere else in the state and I was with my friends.
“ Besides, Mary is there, and Mr. Collins.” I kept fighting her; hoping that she would change her mind and get out at the next rest stop, sending me on my way without her.

“This is the end of this discussion. I’m driving you there and I will hide in the house and play piano until Charles gets there and then I’m on the next flight to my white sandy beaches and clear blue waters.” She checked herself out in the rearview mirror; looking smug.

Sometimes it hurt that my parents had such a distant relationship, but then when I thought about the times that they did spend together, and all the screaming matches I had had to jump in between, I was not so upset. I guess at least they were still together…?

A four hour excruciating car ride with her and I couldn’t have been more relieved to arrive. The five hundred plus acres of vast land had an extremely cozy and welcoming feel to it compared to Manhattan. I couldn’t wait to run my bare feet against the plush green grass and roll my fingers through the coarse mane on my Friesian stallion, Ripley. When daddy bought this ranch it was his intent to breed and sell horses. He purchased the lot with seven horses that came with the stable, one of them was pregnant and she popped out one of my best friends. Ripley and I instantly bonded, and for the past eight years we had spent every summer together. He was one of the smartest horses I had ever been around, and he was a great stud too. My dad said he has made some of the fastest race horses yet. Personally I didn’t like to see Ripley be used to create a profit, but he seemed to enjoy himself and as long as it wasn’t hurting him I could turn my cheek.

The ranch was literally my safe haven. A place for me to read, write, ride, and just be whatever I wanted because I didn’t have to worry about what anyone would say… except for mother that is.

“Lucy! Get Mary to take my bags and bring me a martini up to my room. I’m going to go lie down.” She rudely barked at me, nudging Mary as she walked past. The two of them never got along and the solution was that mom
wasn't allowed to talk to Mary anymore; it always ended in yelling if she did.

“Mary!” I squealed and gave her the biggest hug. She was the sweetest women
I had ever met, and I wished every day that she could be my mother. She wasn’t much older than mom, about forty-eight I would have to say… maybe less; I thought it was rude to ask, and she never shared. Her embrace was soothing and she was just as happy to see me. She pushed me back and held me at arm’s length to get a good look at me. I checked her out as well. Her hair had gotten grayer and some new wrinkles around her eyes had sprouted. I was sure the stress of working for my parents could get to her and that had to be contributing to her rapid aging. She looked at me lovingly with her hazel eyes and smiled widely.

“I’ve missed you Lucy! You have really filled out this year, huh?” She playfully poked fun at my puberty growth spurt. The last time I saw her I was flat chested and awkwardly lanky. Now I was fuller in all areas and toned, running track helped a lot.

“Oh sweetie, it’s really good to see you.” She hugged me tight once more and then released me to get the bags from the car, but I insisted that she left them. She didn’t need to be lugging around my mother’s crap, most of which she didn’t even need.

The house was something out of an old movie. It dated back to the early 1800’s and, aside from a few repairs to keep it looking gorgeous, it was all still original. All white with black shudders at the large rectangle windows. A large wooden porch sat in front of the house with large white columns on either side of the porch steps to hold up
the black rooftop. A small cast iron black patio set was placed on the porch aside a wooden swing that I loved to sit in and sip my tea with a good book. 

But the place that I really loved to be, and where this story really begins, was the stables. I missed Ripley so much and all I wanted to do was go for a ride. Riding him throughout the acres was one of the most enjoyable things I had in my life and I only got to enjoy it for three months a year so I always made the most of it. I didn’t even make it inside the house, I ran straight for the main stable.

The stable wasn’t too far of a walk from the house, but far enough over a smallish hill that I could only see the top of the brown wooden roof from the porch. My new black cowboy boots got all dusty from the loose white chalky gravel that paved the paths around the ranch, but it didn’t bother me, considering after a summer of running around outside and riding they would no doubt be nice and worn in.

I took in the gorgeous surroundings of my summer home as I walked. The clean air filled my lungs, which was an amazing feeling considering I was used to breathing in the traffic exhaust and heavy scent of garbage throughout the city, this was much better.

The grass was always such a vibrant shade of green and the flowers in the crabapple trees were in full pink and white bloom. The cool breeze blew against the tall grass pushing it down on its side all around me and I could see the pollen in the air riding the wind like a surf board on an ocean wave. It was more peaceful than I could ever truly imagine. It was resplendent. And it was all mine.

Chapter 16

 

When I got to the stable I was stricken with worry for a moment because Ripley was already out of his pen, but then I caught the glimpse of someone else with him. I couldn’t see who, but someone was brushing his dark brown coat ever so gently, and it wasn’t Mr. Collins. It was strange that some unknown person could be so close to my horse, considering Ripley had always been very temperamental with anyone who wasn’t Mr. Collins or
myself. He had trust issues. He put a ranch hand in the hospital once after we warned him several times not to go near him, but he thought he was hot shit and decided to take Ripley out for a ride when no one was around. My poor stallion whipped the boy off his back and kicked him hard enough with his hind legs that he broke four ribs and an arm. Since then, no one else was allowed to handle him, but whoever this person was had Ripley under his spell. His ears were relaxed and his eyes half open, he was definitely enjoying the spa treatment that he was receiving.

Whoever this mystery person was, they were very tall. Ripley stood roughly nineteen hands tall and this guy leveled out at about the same height; putting him somewhere around six foot three… close to a full foot taller than me. He had to be a ranch hand, with those tattered dusty blue jeans, brown leather cowboy boots, and a blue and white flannel short sleeved shirt on he screamed stable boy; and they always had the greatest figures.

He turned his head slightly to the left so I could see his boyish profile as he brushed the unkempt dirty blonde hair out of his eyes and said something to Ripley that I couldn’t make out. From that angle he looked to be no older than seventeen or so, and he was quite dreamy. If he had looked in my direction at that moment I could only imagine the sight he would see. I knew my mouth was hanging open like a dazed idiot, but I couldn’t break the trance I was in.

His smooth tanned skin glistened under the warm sun. His jawline screamed strength, but it was not too wide that it became unsightly. His nose stuck out far enough over his delightfully full lips to not be called snub, but it wasn’t hooked either. I could’ve sworn on the holy bible itself that his perfectly proportioned face was carved by Michelangelo himself. Everything about that boy had me going insane. There was an intense inner battle going on between my heart, which melted over the fact that he worked so well with Ripley, my head which was yelling at me to stop drooling and go say “hi”, and my hormonal thriving body
that wanted to know what it felt like to have his hands all over my skin. My brain, kinda sorta, won; although I wasn’t sure how cool I actually played it. 

“Hey,” I playfully shouted... or at least I hope I sounded playful. “What do you think you’re doing to my horse?”

He turned in my direction, looking stunned at first, but when he saw that I was just a little girl and not intimidating in any possible way, shape or form his demeanor changed from worry to amusement. I doubted my petite figure and childlike face could scare an ant, let alone a cowboy.

“Well, little girl, I’m
tendin' to him since his owner doesn’t seem to be around much,” he playfully sniped back. His bright smile revealed he meant no harm; at least not any kind of harm that was intentional. He didn’t know he was making my stomach crawl up into my throat just by looking in my general direction.

“Hey, if I could bring him back to Manhattan with me I would, trust me." I smiled sweetly while stretching out my bony hand for a welcoming handshake. “I’m Lucy Whitten, princess of this domain.” (I admit that I could be a brat sometimes - especially back then.) 

“Finn Haywood,” he said gripping my hand tight. His hands were rough like those of a rancher; rough and strong like they had been overworked for years, but I liked it. It was different from the boys in the city with their manicured soft hands and cuticle free nail beds. I preferred the ruggedness that Finn was dripping with. He may have been a teenager but he sure had the body of a man, and I found myself exploring it with my wandering eyes trying to undress him with the non-existent telekinetic powers that I very much wished I had possessed. I couldn’t help but blush when he caught me gawking.

“It’s
.. uh, nice to meet you Finn,” I squeaked. “Have you worked here long?” A subject change was always the way to go in an awkwardly hot situation. He just smiled coyly at me and nodded his head as he let go of my hand and resumed brushing my stallion. I felt the need for him to keep those appealing gray eyes on me like I was going to cease to exist if he wasn’t looking at me. I stole the brush from his hand - that hand that I wanted so desperately to touch me - so he could focus on my question, and hopefully on me.

“Well,” he began with a puzzled look as I started to brush Ripley’s tangled deep black mane. “I um
.. going on five months now. My dad is a good friend of Perry and he put me to work here to uhh… well to get some experience.” His playful demeanor shifted into ice as he choked out the last part of that sentence. I could tell he was leaving something out, blocking me from something important, because he didn’t know me yet. My natural curiosity for anything juicy was dying to know the information he was withholding, but despite my thirst for his secrets I realized that I needed to respect his privacy. We had only just met after all.

“Perry? Do you mean Mr. Collins?” I had never heard anyone utter his first name before. In fact I was convinced he didn’t have one; kind of like Prince only backwards. 

“Yeah, Perry Collins. He went to high school with my dad, he even dated my mom first.” He quickly explained but just as quickly grabbed another brush from the bucket at his feet and continued to brush Ripley’s hide.

His eyes darkened again and were no longer on me. I had to fight the urge to grab his face and keep his focus on me. I had no idea why I was feeling that way towards him… I had only known him for minutes, but there was a strong feeling that I needed to fix something that was broken inside of him. As if I could just reach my hand into his heart and pop back in a loose spring or tighten a wobbly screw.

BOOK: Heavy Hearts
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