Eve’s smile faded. “What’s the job description, Nicholas?”
“Something in marketing.”
Her heart pounded dully. “You don’t even know what the job is. How do you know I’d be perfect for it?”
“Well, you won’t know what you’re perfect for until you try it.” Her brother’s smile was guileless, but he hadn’t gotten to where he was by being sweet and innocent.
“Nico. We agreed you wouldn’t bug Eve about this stuff.” Livvy’s face and tone conveyed her displeasure.
Eve knew her brother thought she was drifting, “finding herself” as he derisively called it, and maybe she had been when she’d first quit her cushy job, but that wasn’t the case any longer.
Eve opened her mouth, ready to explain all of this to him, but he leaned forward. “Let me help you, Eve. I understand wanting to take a break, but you know... Chandlers, we work.”
She drew back, her words stilled. She was well acquainted with the Chandler work ethic. “I’m aware.”
His gaze was appealing. “I only want to make sure you’re doing okay, kiddo.”
Kiddo. Because she was a kid.
The business plans she’d made suddenly seemed childish and silly, like she’d drawn them in crayon instead of with spreadsheets. “Right. I’ll look at the position,” she managed.
Relief crossed his face. He gave her an approving smile, and despite her annoyance, she soaked it in like a sponge.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew she had parental issues. Since she couldn’t get her father’s approval, Nicholas’s had become the most crucial thing in the world. The last thing she ever wanted was for him to look at her with anything less than adoration. And she knew if she did propose her business idea to him, he wouldn’t mock her. He’d pet her on the head and probably invest.
But she didn’t want that. She wanted him to see her as smart and savvy and a success. She didn’t want him to throw some money at her like she was a pampered trust fund girl with a shiny toy.
“Good,” he said, and turned to walk away.
Livvy hung back for a second, and waited to speak until Nicholas was out of earshot. “I’m sorry. I’ve told him to leave you alone.”
Eve looked down at her feet. They were clad in sensible boots. “It’s not your fault he thinks I’m a kid.” She glanced up. “I do have a plan for my life. I know it seems I’ve been aimless, but I have a purpose.”
Livvy’s gaze was sympathetic. “People thought I was aimless when I was traveling around the country, but I also had a purpose. Sometimes big brothers don’t understand that not working is part of a larger plan. You’re okay, Eve. Take your time.”
It would be nice to confide in Livvy, but she didn’t want to put Livvy between herself and her brother. That wasn’t the mature thing to do. “He thinks I’m a child.”
Livvy grimaced. “Sometimes people need to be taught to see you as who you really are rather than who they think you are, you know? It’s not easy.”
She mulled that over, taking it apart, examining it from all sides. “I guess so.”
After they’d left, Eve led her horse out of the barn, easily finding the trail through the woods. She started at a slow pace, but the worry inside her had her urging the horse to go faster and faster. The hooves pounded on the dirt trail, the wind stinging her face in the most pleasant way. It wasn’t as good as swimming, but it was exertion. Her vision narrowed so it was only the five feet directly in front of her. She let the horse take her far away, her mind clearing with every step.
Eventually, she became conscious of an ache in her thighs. She reined in, finally taking stock of the unfamiliar surroundings. She’d gone way farther than she’d intended, leaving the private path behind. She glanced up at the darkening sky. Ugh. The forecast hadn’t called for rain this week, but unexpected spring storms weren’t unusual upstate.
She turned her horse around as the first drop of rain fell on her nose, and then another. And then another. She pulled her phone out, wiping the rain off the screen, but GPS was no good here—she was out of range of a signal.
She shoved her phone back into her pocket. It was fine. She’d follow the trail back, and even if she couldn’t make it to the house, she vaguely recalled spying a little cabin not far back. It had been one of those emergency outpost things the parks department maintained. If it wasn’t open, she could take shelter from the rain on the porch there.
She kicked her horse into a trot when the rain started coming down in earnest, though after a few minutes, it didn’t much matter—she couldn’t get more soaked than she already was. Still, she leaned down and urged her mare into a gallop, her body moving as one with the horse.
But the most experienced horsewoman couldn’t have predicted the bolt of lightning that struck down from the sky. She half-wondered if Dot would be all right, but then the creature reared. Eve tried to counter the animal’s movements, but gravity proved too much for her. She slipped, the reins falling out of her hand.
There was a second of weightlessness, and she had the very clear, calm thought that this was it. The ground was rocky and hard. If she hit her head, she could very well not make it.
But it couldn’t be it, because there was far too much she hadn’t done yet. She was too young. She hadn’t made her mark on the world, or proved herself to her brother. She hadn’t spent enough time with Livvy. She hadn’t learned every bit of wisdom she could from her grandfather. She hadn’t properly kissed Gabe, or another man she desired as much as him.
Eve tried to twist, recalling what she’d learned about falling off horses, and when her body hit the ground, she knew she’d done her best to minimize broken bones and a concussion. Still, pain slammed through her when her back and head smacked hard dirt.
