Chapter 12

Eli hadn’t meant to be late, not consciously at least. The chicks would have been fine if he’d waited until after Beth’s riding lesson to check on them, but he knew now when he stood in front of Midnight’s stall that he’d been looking for reasons to delay the inevitable—putting Beth on the back of a horse.

“Good morning again, beautiful girl,” Beth said as she patted Midnight’s nose.

The mare responded with a gentle snort, but Eli’s gut was still tied in knots.

“Did a doctor clear you to do this?” he asked, it finally dawning on him that he may actually have a way out. “I know you think you’re just sitting on the back of a horse, but riding is a weight-bearing sport for both legs, both ankles, both feet.”

Beth pivoted away from the mare and turned to look at him. No, glare.

“Doctors are not in charge of me,” she snapped.

Eli sighed. “Technically, when you’re under a doctor’s care, they are in charge of your health. And yes, you are your own person and are entitled to make your own decisions, but as a medical professional myself, I would like to know if you at least floated this by your surgeon or physical therapist or whatever.”

Beth cleared her throat and put her hands on her hips.

Eli tried to ignore how good she looked in a plain white T-shirt and a pair of jeans, one leg rolled up above her cast, the other with a lone sneaker poking out from the slightly frayed bottom.

Think like a doctor and not like a teen with a monster crush.

“I don’t need to float it by my PT because I’m not going to bear weight on my left leg. I read a few online articles and posts about amputees who ride with one leg, and the biggest issue to overcome is balance. But it’s not impossible. Plus so much of dancing relies on balance, so I’ve got that part down.” She smiled and shrugged. “So I don’t need to ‘float’ anything”—she made sure to put finger quotes around float this time—“by anyone.”

Eli knew he’d promised he’d do this for her. He also knew it wasn’t the best idea, medically speaking.

“She needs a rider, Eli. You said it yourself.”

Eli did say that. He gritted his teeth. This was Boone’s doing. Boone should be here dealing with the mare himself and leaving Eli and Beth out of it. Did having a baby and wanting to be a good father really take precedent? Of course it did, but that didn’t make Eli any less pissed at the position his brother had ultimately put him in.

Beth dropped her hands from her hips and then placed her palms gently on his chest. “I’m not insensitive to the fact that this whole situation is bringing up some stuff for you that you’d probably rather it didn’t. But maybe this could be healing for both of us.”

Midnight whinnied over her shoulder, and Beth laughed.

“Sorry!” she called to the mare. “For all three of us.”

Eli lifted his cattleman and scrubbed his hand back and forth over his hair. Then he set the hat back on his head and sighed.

He wasn’t sure how this would be healing for him, but it felt like Boone and Beth were both pushing him in the same direction, and he was losing the will to push back.

“I call the shots,” he began, closing his hands around her wrists. “While we’re out there, I’m your riding instructor, your doctor, and your…” He stopped himself before another word slipped out because he didn’t know what the hell that word was supposed to be.

Beth pressed her lips together, holding back a grin.

“My…boss?” she asked, feigning innocence.

Eli clenched his jaw. “No.” He groaned. “Yes, I’m your boss, but that’s only when we’re in the clinic.”

She nodded and stepped closer. As he loosened his grip on her wrists, she slid her arms around his waist.

“But you’re my whatever-that-word-might-be?” She tilted her head up and looked at him with such earnestness in her green eyes that he didn’t know if she was mocking him or sincere.

He swallowed, his throat dry, and Beth smiled at him sweetly.

“Don’t worry, cowboy. This is brand new. We don’t need to name it. But if it makes you feel any better, from here on out you can be my whatever.”

Whatever.

Such a throwaway word that meant nothing, yet he was hers. He hadn’t been anyone’s anything in the years since Tess, and until now he’d thought his work, his few close friends, and his brother had been not only enough but all that he deserved.

But maybe Beth and Midnight falling into his life on the same damned day was some sort of message from the universe. If he could give both her and the mare what they needed to heal, then maybe Eli would heal something in himself as well.

“When I said I was rusty at all this whatever, that was an understatement.” he told her.

She nodded. “We’ll figure it out together. But can we keep this just between us? For now at least? I don’t want to get my sister’s hopes up that I’m staying in Meadow Valley for good. We both know that we’re just taking this day by day, right?”

Eli cleared his throat. “Right. Of course. I’m not a big talker anyway. No reason for me to say anything to your sister about what doesn’t concern her.” It didn’t matter that every part of that promise caused crack after crack in his carefully constructed facade. He already knew it would hurt like hell to watch Beth leave, but he’d endured the worst a man could go through already. He’d somehow make it through. He just had to remind himself that for now, she was his whatever, which was already more than he ever expected.

With Beth by his side, Midnight had let Eli attach the lead to her halter, but when he tried to get her to follow him out of the stall, she wouldn’t budge.

“What’s wrong?” Beth asked.

“She’s scared,” he replied. “I’m not sure how she was treated by her previous owners. I only know that they found her worthless after her injury and were ready to—”

“Don’t say it,” she interrupted. “I don’t want Midnight to hear what they were going to do to her.”

“She doesn’t know what we’re saying.” He gave a soft tug on her lead, but the horse still held her ground.

Beth petted the mare gently between the eyes, fingers brushing over her white star.

“You don’t know that,” she insisted. “When I talk to her, it feels like she understands. Just like I know if her snorts mean she’s content or agitated.”

Eli narrowed his eyes. “How is the Spence sister without the animal whispering gene suddenly a horse whisperer?”

“I’m not,” she replied in the sweet affectation reserved for speaking with a beloved animal. “But somehow, I’m her whisperer. I can’t explain it.”

Eli offered her the lead.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Beth asked. “I can talk to her, but I don’t know how to handle her yet.”

He motioned again for her to take it. “Why don’t we test that theory? Maybe you’re wrong.”

She stopped petting the horse and extended a hesitant hand toward the blue woven lead rope.

“I’m scared, Eli,” she said softly. “This is getting real now.”

On how many levels did that ring true? She could be talking about the horse, the whatever he and she were becoming, or even what it might mean if riding was yet another thing her injury would keep her from doing. All three scared the hell out of him too, but they had to push forward because he was so damned tired of being stuck.

“I’m here,” he assured her. “Every step of the way.”

Her fingers brushed his as she took hold of the lead and he let it go. A fleeting warmth passed through him but was gone as quickly as it came.

“Come on, girl,” Beth cooed softly to the mare, putting slight pressure on the lead.

Midnight still didn’t budge.

“Seriously?” Beth blew out an exasperated breath. “This was supposed to be our big moment,” she told the horse. “We were going to wow the cowboy over there who thinks we’re clueless…” She stage-whispered to the mare: “Spoiler alert…I am clueless. But come on, girl. Show me this thing going on between us isn’t all in my head, that we’re actually connecting here.” She pressed both hands to the sides of Midnight’s nose and kissed her right on top of it. “Now let’s go.” Beth spoke with an unexpected yet confident authority. “It’s a beautiful morning, and you’re missing it.”

She turned toward the opened stall door, applied pressure to the lead, and took a step forward past where Eli stood. Then another. And then one more.

Midnight followed. When Beth paused, the mare paused.

Holy shit.

Beth turned back toward Eli, her green eyes glistening with tears. Happy tears.

“Did I really do it?” she asked, voice breaking even as a smile bloomed across her face.

“You did it, Mighty.” He nodded, then tipped his cattleman before placing it back on his head.

He watched as she continued down the row of empty stalls until she passed Cirrus. The stallion merely stuck his nose over his own gate to sniff the mare, but he paid her no mind, and Midnight did the same, seemingly spellbound by the woman leading her out of the barn.

Eli knew the feeling. He stood frozen in place, waiting for that spell to wear off. He waited for the agony as his chest would tighten. He waited for his brain to kick into gear to remind him of all the things that could go wrong. He waited for the crippling fear.

None of it came. Instead, he felt himself following Beth and Midnight’s path, the anticipation building as a feeling he hadn’t expected snuck up and socked him right in the gut.

Joy.

When he made it out to the sunlit arena, the two women—one human, one equine—were slowly making a loop, Beth slowed by her cast and Midnight by her own healing leg.

The way Midnight followed without so much as a shake against her lead showed the animal was not only content but also trusting of the woman in front of her.

Eli leaned against the arena fence, arms crossed and hat tilted down over his eyebrows to block the glare of the sun. He could have stood there for hours watching them, Beth smiling from ear to ear in as much awe of herself as Eli was of her. But today he would play the part of teacher, though he was pretty sure Beth and Midnight might teach him a thing or two along the way.

“Can you believe what we just did?” Beth asked as she and Midnight finally approached. “I mean, I know we’re a little slow, but she let me lead her the whole way around. No questions asked. Me.” She pressed a palm to her chest with her free hand, the other still holding the lead.

Eli nodded, pushed himself off the fence, and picked up the grooming kit he’d set out earlier before checking on the baby chicks.

“Okay,” he began. “Lesson number one is grooming your horse.”

Beth’s expression faltered, but then her smile returned.

“Sure,” she said. “So, what? I, like, brush her and then hop on? Are you going to grab the saddle while I make her all pretty?”

Eli set the grooming kit down at the fence post next to where Beth and Midnight stood.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing for the lead.

Beth handed it over, suspicion in her narrow gaze.

Eli tied off the lead around the post and gave Midnight a quick rub between the eyes. Surprisingly, she nuzzled her nose against his palm, and for a second he forgot what he was going to say.

“Eli?” Beth asked when he still hadn’t turned away from the horse.

“Right,” he answered, coming back to himself and pivoting to face her. “I’ll walk you through using the hoof pick,” he told her. “Show you where to stand to stay safe in case something spooks her and she kicks. Then we’ll get to currying and using the body brush. While you’re finishing up with the mane and tail, I’ll grab a bucket of warm water, some sponges, and some mane and tail conditioner if we have any.”

Beth’s mouth fell open. “You’re messing with me, right?”

Eli took his hat off his head and dropped it onto hers. Then he kissed her on the cheek.

“I think after the past couple of weeks, you know me well enough to know I’m not really into messing with people.”

“But—” she started.

“But you’ve never ridden, and she hasn’t had a rider since before her accident. She may trust you to take her on a little walk, but I can’t just toss you up on her. You’ve had a couple of moments in and outside the stall, but this is where you really get to know her and where she gets to know you. You two make it through the next hour or two unscathed? Then it’s time to saddle up.”