Page 26 of Art of Love

“A Shetland pony and a few goats. We used to watch horses up at our place when needed. I remember having an old mare for an entire summer.” Her smile was fast and genuine. “You have horses, right?”

He nodded. “Four of them. No goats.” He smiled. “Yet.”

She chuckled. “These two seem stubborn.”

“I can do stubborn,” he joked.

“Are yours broken in?”

“They are now. It took me five weeks to break Marty.”

“I ran into an old friend yesterday,” she said after a long pause.

Abe glanced up. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, just focused on the brush as she worked over Stormy’s back.

“Oh?”

“She named her son after me,” she said, her voice soft. “I didn’t expect that.”

He leaned against Blaze, letting the gelding nibble at the salt block while he waited for her to go on.

“She asked me to grab some coffee.” Dylan stopped brushing for a moment, her hand resting on the mare’s side as her eyes watched dust motes floating in the sunlight. “I said no. Well… I didn’t really say no. I mumbled something stupid and ran away.”

Abe stayed quiet. Sometimes silence said more than words could.

She let out a long breath and picked up brushing again, slower this time. “I’m just not ready for that. For them. For… forgiveness, I guess. Or pretending like nothing happened back then.”

“What did happen?” he asked gently.

She finally looked at him. “She turned her back on me when I needed her. When everyone else did too. I had…” She lifted her shoulders slightly. “I had no one.”

His chest tightened at the vulnerability in her voice. She wasn’t angry. Not really. Just hurt. And maybe a little lost.

“She looked tired. Worn down. I thought seeing her like that would make me feel something. Vindicated. I don’t know. But she looked so tired. She had her little girl strapped to her chest, her son on her hip. She was pushing her groceries while her son, Dylan, hung onto her arms. And I felt…” Dylan trailed off and shook her head as she looked down at her fingers again. “Guilty. And sad. And angry. All at once.”

Abe stepped away from Blaze and moved beside her. Close enough to feel her energy shift. “That’s a lot to carry.”

She gave a hollow laugh. “Story of my life.”

“I think it’s okay to walk away,” he said. “And I think it’s okay if one day you walk back, too. It doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow, but maybe someday you’ll be ready. I bet it took a lot of courage for her to let you see her like that. A lot more to invite you to coffee.”

Dylan nodded slowly, the tension in her shoulders loosening as she looked at him again. Really looked. For the first time, Abe saw the walls drop. Just a little. But it was enough.

“Time doesn’t heal all wounds, that saying is way off.” He took her shoulders gently. “Letting things out, however you can, helps.”

She took a deep breath. “I suppose your music is your release.” She glanced back at the horses, not waiting for a response from him. “I used to spend a lot of time in barns with my dad. We’d talk.” She locked eyes with him. “Being here, brings it all back.”

He nodded, afraid that if he spoke, she’d close up again.

“I… didn’t meant to unload on you.” She rolled her shoulders, then surprised him by lifting up on her toes and brushing her lips across his. “Thanks for listening.”

He stilled. Unable to move. The kiss had been light, casual. Yet, somehow, it felt so… powerful. Like a tsunami had hit him square in the chest, knocking out his breath and turning his world topsy-turvy.

“Dylan.” His voice was low as he watched her still. Then he was pulling her close, covering her mouth with his. Her body melted into his instantly, her fingers slipping up to his hair, holding him tight.

In all of his years, he’d never felt anything so passionate. Whatever happened from this moment on, this mattered.

Then she stiffened in his hold and took a step back. She shook her head and chuckled nervously. “I didn’t mean to come here and blather all over you.”