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Autumn Kissed

Page 44

by Deborah M. Hathaway

One of his hands hangs casually at his side while the other holds the reins above the saddle horn, Archer expertly leading his horse forward with subtle movements. I haven’t had to direct Rapunzel once, the horse clearly following her true master’s lead. A red handkerchief pokes out from the back pocket of Archer’s jeans, and the prominent muscles in his thighs shift as he sits atop his saddle.

When I came here on my date for Prom, I did my best to pay attention to Luke, but Archer captivated me in every way. He’s still doing so now. Only today, he’s stolen more than a few glances in my direction, as well.

This ride, his opening up to me and sharing about his past—it’s all been a dream. One I don’t want to wake up from, though I know I’m right at the edge of reality.

His chest rises in his black button-up, a white shirt peeking through near his neck as he speaks. “Of course I’d like to see you again. I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Because of my dad? He’s not a tyrant, you know.”

“I do. But I know what he’s capable of doing in the name of Autumn Ridge. I can only imagine what he’d do in your name. I’ll end up arrested a third time while he tries to shut down the stables again.”

I swing my eyes to his. “He tried to shut down the stables?”

His mouth hovers open, then he clamps it shut. “You’re out of questions, Juliet.”

He knows I really want this one, too.

“Can I buy you more maple bars?”

“Sure, but it’s not going to get you anywhere.”

I try to pry it from him, but this cowboy won’t break. He distracts me by pointing out the empty maple buckets hanging from the trees we pass by, and I give up on asking him more questions. In truth, he’s given more than I thought he would, and I’m grateful for it.

By the time we reach the stables, I’ve resigned myself to just asking Dad about his apparent attempt to shut down Horseshoe Holler.

“Let me help you down,” Archer says as he dismounts in front of the stables and ties his horse up.

“It’s okay. I got it.”

“Wait, Juliet⁠—”

But I’m determined to offset my humiliation from before by showing him that I’m capable of at least getting off a horse on my own.

I shove my foot farther into the stirrup for support, but instead of grasping onto the saddle horn, I decide to lean against Rapunzel’s smooth neck instead. As I swing my right leg over the horse’s backside, my hand slips instantly, and I plummet toward the dirt.

“Juliet!”

My foot twists in the stirrup, and a sharp pain pulls through my ankle before my boot finally releases, and I land hard on the ground on my right side.

I lay winded on the ground, the horse shuffling away from me as Archer kneels down at my side. His hands hold my face in place. “Are you all right?”

I nod, and relief floods through his features, probably because I can move my neck.

I’m not incapacitated, but my dignity sure is.

I try to sit up, but my head spins.

“Just stay there for a second. Catch your breath.”

I do as I’m told, wincing.

He releases his hold of me and glances down my body. “Where are you hurt?”

“My left ankle.”

“Not your head?”

“No. I caught most of the fall on my side.”