I kiss her on the cheek and say that her hair looks especially lovely today.
“Finlay MacLaine, you aren’t as charming as you think you are.”She smiles when she says it, though.
In truth, I have nothing I need to take care of.I just need a little bit of time to screw my head on straight.
Because what the actual fuck am I doing?
I wander around for a while and find myself at the barn again.I decide to watch Summer in a round pen, exercising one of the colts on a longe line.Dad hired Summer back when she was still in high school.I remember him telling me, “That girl’s got a gift with horses.It’s like she speaks their language.”
Dad was right.Summer has a style that brings out the absolute best in each horse she helps me train.She approaches them with a matter-of-fact firmness that’s softened with reverence.Summer respects the animals she works with, and they respect her right back.
I respect her, too.We’re plenty fortunate to have her here.
I watch for a while, careful to stay out of her line of sight.I don’t want her asking me any more questions about Emma.
Eventually I head back toward the ranch lane and run into Joe, our stable hand.He tips his hat to me.
“That yearling might turn into a fine barrel racer one day, Mr.MacLaine.”
“I agree with you on that.”
I decide to take a long stroll out to the west pastures.I prop a boot on a fence rail and lean in, enjoying what stretches out before me.I never get tired of this sight—sleek and pampered horses in a healthy pasture of mixed grasses and legumes, their tails swishing.The Sierras rising in the background.Bugs and birds against the backdrop of slanted sunlight.
I am a lucky man.A man of privilege who lives a life full of blessings.But sometimes… sometimes I can get to feeling awfully fucking sorry for myself.And when that happens, I lose my way.
I drop my head.Maybe it will improve the blood flow to my brain.
Today, I lost my way with Emma.She did nothing wrong and did not deserve the beatdown I just gave her.She is a young woman who’s trying her best, who came here because she needed a job—the one Phyllis hired her to do.She is not in the wrong here.I am.
I had no business coming down on her so hard.
I owe her an apology.I will tell her I was an idiot and ask for her forgiveness.
Yep—guilt.It’s the gift that just keeps on giving, and I’m juggling a trifecta of guilt right now.
Guilt for putting Amy behind me enough that I could feel attracted to someone else.
Guilt for feeling attracted to a woman who works for me—workedfor me, past tense, I suppose, unless I can fix it.
Guilt for being so attracted to Emma that it’s thrown me off my game.
I don’t look forward to the apology.I’d rather get a root canal.Because that conversation will require me to look into those perceptive brown eyes and ask her to forgive me.That will be dangerous.
I looked in those eyes this morning and nearly kissed her.I wanted to.I was a second away from leaping over the kitchen island and laying one on her.
The right thing, of course, is to have a totally impersonal relationship with Emma.Boss and employee.That’s all.If I accept that, then I can look at her over the coffee pot in the morning and not want to kiss her.No more needing to apologize for being a dumbass.No more root canals.
The worst part is that I hurt her.I see her face in my mind’s eye, the surprise when I berated her for being alone with Jasmine.The pain I saw on her face.Even worse, the resignation that followed, as if that kind of cruelty was familiar to her.Like she was waiting for it.
Whatever it takes, I’ll fix this mess.
“Fretting over our invoicing procedures, I take it.”
I look up to find Evander coming my way.I straighten.“You caught me.”
He laughs.
After Special K threw Evander’s suit into the ravine this morning, my next youngest brother decided to dress in jeans and a denim shirt for the remainder of the day, like a normal human being.And yet, he’s still so perfectly groomed that he looks like he’s preparing for a photo shoot.Not a hair out of place.
