Breaking Free

I cranked the volume on the stereo and sang along to an old track from Lady Antebellum while driving away from my grandma’s ranch. She insisted I stay since it was almost midnight and drive back to campus in the morning, but she knew I wouldn’t change my mind. I didn’t mind driving at night. Actually, I preferred it. Besides, I knew these roads by heart.

The aroma of cookies filling the inside of my car made me smile, and I inhaled deeply. She always baked something whenever I came to spend the weekend with her—which was often—and made me a huge container of whatever it was so I could take it back to campus. The bad side was that I had to share it with my roommate. Although we weren’t close by any means, she loved my grandma’s cooking.

I guess everyone loved my grandma’s cooking.

I glanced at the cookies on the passenger seat. Mmm, too tempting. I reached for one and my eyes shifted over my tote beside it. It was open, and my big economics book, along with all the notes I’d stuck in it, was missing. Crap. I’d taken it out to study while grandma baked the cookies. Maybe it was still in her kitchen.

The bright blue light from the clock on the dashboard indicated it was past midnight. I was already close to town, but I had to go back. I would need my notes for my morning class. Great. What was supposed to be a twenty-minute drive had just turned into an hour-long one, if I counted going back to the ranch, then back to campus.

Cursing, I pulled over and turned around.

Thirteen minutes into my drive back, my cell phone rang, playing one of Tim McGraw’s best songs.

“I thought you would be sleeping by now,” I said.

“Hannah, where are you?” Eric asked. “I thought you were supposed to be on campus by now. I’m waiting for you to call me from your room, when you’re safe and sound in your bed, so I can go to sleep too.”

“Sorry, change of plans.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going back ‘cause I forgot my book and my notes at the ranch.” For a second or two, he said nothing. “Eric, are you there?”

“Baby, you shouldn’t worry about your book. It’s late and you’re probably tired. I would feel better if you didn’t drive back and forth so much.”

I smiled. He always cared so much about me. “Don’t worry. I’m sure grandma will convince me to sleep over and drive back in the morning. She suggested it earlier anyway.”

“Even so. You’ll be tired in the morning.”

He had a point, but it was too late now. “Eric, I’m almost there.”

“Baby—”

“Why don’t you tell me about your trip while I drive the last six miles?” I drove by the Thompson ranch. Not too far to go now. “It’ll help pass the time.”

“I already told you about it. We won.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure there’s more to it. Like, how was the other team? How was the hotel? Was the food good, and did Tomas fall off his horse this time?”

“It was all good. And no, Tomas didn’t fall. Though, Justin’s pony was limping by the end of the match. She’ll be checked out by the vet tomorrow.”

“Oh, I hope Irina is okay.”

“I do too. Justin is too attached to that damn horse. If she’s ill, he’ll have a breakdown.”

“And that’s not good,” I said. “Oh, speaking of not good, guess who showed up at the ranch this afternoon?”

He sighed. “No idea.”

“Mr. Nash. Damn, sometimes I want to punch him for grandma. When is he going to learn she won’t sell the ranch to him? Or to anyone? The man doesn’t get it. Worse, when grandma refused to keep discussing it, he started yelling and threatening her. It was creepy.”

“See? One more reason not to go there so much. What if this guy turns violent?”

“Ah, Eric. He’s like a dog. All bark, no bite.”

I turned left onto a smaller road and approached the ranch gates. Everything was supposed to be dark, except for a few lights around the stables and the house.

But the dark night was tinged by orange.

“Eric,” I whispered. “Something’s wrong.”

The road to grandma’s house and the stables was a long one, but it suddenly seemed infinite. And the orange on the horizon seemed far away.

“What is it?”

The phone fell from my hands as I slammed on the brakes at the end of the road, causing the car to skid.

The main stable was completely engulfed in fire.

The coffee maker beeped, and I reached for it. If Eric saw me making a new pot in the afternoon, or any time of the day, he would dump it on the sink. Thankfully, he was at a meeting with his team at the polo club, so my coffee was safe.

I gripped my mug with both hands and inhaled deeply. Ah, the perfect comforting smell. And even more perfect mixed with the house’s permanent vanilla scent. My grandma used it in everything—perfume, candles, fabric softener. After eight months, her home still smelled like it.

I looked around the kitchen and, as always, my eyes settled on the largest portrait on the wall. It was a 24-by-18 frame of grandma, Hercules, and me in front of the old stable a couple of weeks before the fire. Grandma and I were smiling, and Hercules had his muzzle on my neck. Damn, how I missed them.

My gaze fell on Hercules, my beautiful, happy horse. He was very different from the one in my stable right now.

My cell phone rang.

I glanced at the screen before answering and groaned. “Hi, Mom.”

“Good afternoon, Hannah,” she said, her tone flat. “I’m just calling to make sure you remember our dinner party tonight.” She didn’t wait for me to answer before continuing, “Do you have plans to come early and spend a few minutes with your parents?”

I sighed. “I’ll try.”

“You will try,” she muttered.

“Mom, today is Jimmy’s day off, and I have tons of stuff to do around here.”

“Hannah, you’re a Taylor. You can do anything you want to. If that means hiring more employees so you have more time for your family, you do it. But as a Taylor, you’re never late to your appointments and events. Never.”

I gritted my teeth. Typical, playing the you-are-a-Taylor card. It didn’t matter to them that I spent most of my time as a student at the University of California in Santa Barbara, or that I lived on a ranch by myself.

No. To them I was Hannah Taylor, one of the two heiresses to an equestrian empire, and girlfriend of the best polo player in the world.

I closed my eyes. “I’ll be there about an hour before the party starts, Mom.”

“Good,” she said, sounding triumphant. “I’ll see you and Eric in a few hours, then.”

A loud cracking noise came from the stable, and I snapped my head to the window.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, my mind on what that noise could be. “Mom, I gotta go. Bye.”

Barely thinking, I turned off the phone, let go of my coffee, ran to the foyer, pulled on my boots, and ran out of the house.

The sun peeked out of heavy clouds, unable to dry the grass and dirt road from the morning rain. The trees and the flowers’ scent drifted around me, accentuated by the dampness in the air.

I dashed down the stone path, careful not to slip, and reached the new stable as thunder rolled in the sky. Apparently, the rain wasn’t over yet. The odd thing was it rarely rained over this region.

All the horses were quiet in the stable, except for Argus.

I’d barely seen this horse since Jimmy convinced me to bring him. Four days ago, I was arriving home after I had finished my last final for the spring semester, when Jimmy, my grandma’s right hand, came running from the arena. “Miss Taylor.”

I stepped out of my car and headed for the house. “Hi, Jimmy.”

I entered the house, but Jimmy halted by the door and took off his hat. “Michael, the animal control officer, rescued a horse this morning. He wants to bring him here.”

“What? Why?”

“Your grandmother was the one who took care of them …”

“Well, she isn’t here anymore.”

“But he thought you would like to have the horse.” He scratched his thin mustache. “He mentioned putting him down if you don’t accept him.”

I crossed my arms. “That’s a big pressure on me. You know I’m not my grandmother, Jimmy. I can’t do what she did.”

“But, besides me, you were the one who spent more time with her around this ranch. You may have never healed a horse by yourself, but you’ve seen your grandmother do it.”

I had seen her doing it, yes, but that didn’t mean I knew how to do it by myself. This would be the first time I would work on a damaged horse without her. It would only serve to make things more real, to remind me she wasn’t here anymore and never would be again. That my own horse wasn’t here anymore and never would be again.

The ranch had plenty of horses, but I didn’t feel like they were mine. I hadn’t cared for them the same way I cared for Hercules. I hadn’t picked them like I had picked Hercules. Still, they had been my grandma’s horses, and now I was taking care of them. Leaving her ranch to me was her wish.

Since she died, I had not taken or bought any new horses. It just didn’t feel right. And accepting this one, even if for a short period of time, felt like I was betraying Hercules. Like I had found a substitute for him.

However, I couldn’t let animal control put the horse down. Who was I kidding? Even if remembering Hercules hurt, I couldn’t deny help to a horse.

“All right,” I finally said.

Ugh, I had underestimated my preparedness to “cure” a horse by myself, and the pain I felt at thinking about taking care of any horse other than Hercules.

For now, I allowed Jimmy to take care of him. But this Saturday being his day off, I was alone at the ranch.

The white horse jerked around in his stall, kicking and bumping his body against the wooden walls.

I approached his door. “Hey, boy,” I whispered. “Easy, easy.”

But he didn’t go easy. He turned to me and, when his eyes met mine, he nickered loud and clear. Then, all the other horses complained and joined him, their screams ringing in my ears. I couldn’t afford to have him disturb them. It would cause a ruckus, and I wouldn’t be able to control them all.

Breaking the stare, Argus used his hind legs to kick at the door, and I retreated on instinct.

“Argus, please, look at me.”

He kicked at the door. That was where the noise I heard from inside the house came from. The wood of the door was cracking, and he knew it.

I glanced behind me to the shelf on the wall where the extra syringes and sedatives were. I could use that, but I had no idea how I would get close enough without being stomped on. There was another solution I could try.

I ran to the tack room and searched for something I could use to block the door. Either that or I could put him in another stall, but then he would just break it again. My best choice was to calm him down if I could. Or give him sedatives like Jimmy had been doing whenever he became agitated.

Crap. Why had I allowed Jimmy to bring him in? I knew the answer without having to think about it. The poor animal was found beaten and frightened. I couldn’t leave him alone or put him down without at least trying to save him.

Another crack, louder this time, startled me. I grabbed the first pair of bridle and reins I saw and dashed to Argus’s stall just as he was about to jump over the broken door.

He halted and looked at me. I froze, afraid that if I moved he would gallop away.

“Argus, boy, come here.” I hid my hands behind my back. “I’ve got carrots and apples here. Want some? Come and get it.”

The horse was either too smart or too wary. He snorted at me before racing out of the stable.

I grabbed a syringe and a sedative from the shelf and scurried after him.

I would never be able to catch up with him, but I had to try. I put my hand inside my pocket to pick up my phone and realized I had dropped it when I was putting on my boots. I cursed myself and considered racing to the house and grabbing the phone, but if I didn’t go after him, I would lose him. And if I lost sight of him now, I might never find him again.

He trotted down the path leading away from the property as if he savored freedom. Thunder echoed through the sky. Startled, the horse nickered and sped up.

“Argus!” I yelled, running after him.

Great! Now I would spend the afternoon racing after this damn horse instead of doing my chores and getting ready for the party. I hoped I solved this situation fast, otherwise I would be late for the damn dinner party, and my mother wouldn’t care about explanations.

Speaking of my mother, if she saw me like this—in short jeans, a pink tank, and red cowboy boots, now covered in mud—she would have an anxiety attack and faint, at the very least. Thank goodness, she lived one hour away.

The horse left the ranch and turned on the main road. Keeping up with a horse was impossible, and soon I’d have to stop chasing him. Hopefully, the Thompsons would be outside their barn, and I would be able to holler for help.

“Argus, stop!”

He slowed when he reached a turn in the road. Tall trees reached up and entangled their leaves together, creating a beautiful green tunnel.

Something moved in the bushes behind him, and Argus halted, watching it. Damn, I hoped it wasn’t a mountain lion. I tried not thinking about it as I used the horse’s distraction to get near him.

A few seconds later, a squirrel climbed a tree.

Argus snorted and darted away from it, crossing the lanes.

An SUV appeared on the road from under the tree tunnel. Moving too fast.

My heart stopped.

Argus jumped high, super high. High enough that the SUV missed his hind legs by a few inches.

The horse tumbled on the grass. The SUV skidded to a halt. I ran to Argus but stopped before I got too close and scared him even more. I fell to my knees by the side of the road, feeling like jelly. My heart pumped against my chest, and I couldn’t control my breathing.

A guy got out the SUV. “Meu Deus!” He looked from me to Argus and back again, visibly lost. “What happened?”

His brown eyes huge, Argus remained on the ground, shaking against a tree surround by beautiful purple Douglas Iris flowers. If this wasn’t a bad situation, I would have admired this place. Though they grew all over the Central California coast and were common, I loved these flowers.

The guy walked toward him, but I raised my hand.

“No. You’ll scare him away.”

“It’s okay. I know how to deal with horses,” he said, a heavy musical accent dripping from his words.

He knelt on the grass, several feet away from Argus, spread his hands on the ground, and spoke stupid but sweet things to the horse. Like a mother talking nonsense to her baby. And several of the words were in another language.

I just watched it. And... noticed him for the first time. He appeared to be my age, maybe a year older, at most. Even crouched, he was tall, with chin-length, layered, light brown hair, tanned skin, a strong jaw, thin nose, and full lips. His shoulders and arms seemed constricted under his white T-shirt, and the same went for the dark jeans covering his thighs. To top it all, he wore brown cowboy boots. All designer pieces. A Tommy Hilfiger cowboy.

He was... handsome.

And a stranger.

I thought I knew all the ranches or horse-related people in the region.

Without taking his eyes from Argus, the guy scooted toward me and grabbed the halter and reins from my hands.

“Do you have any rope?” he asked, his voice low. I shook my head. “What’s his name?”

“Argus.”

He tucked the reins into his back pocket and raised his hands. “Hey, Argus, I’m going to get closer. But it’s okay. I want to help you.”

I held my breath.

He crawled toward the horse, whispering soothing words. Almost imperceptible, Argus shook less and less. The guy reached over and touched Argus’s foot. The horse neighed, but the guy didn’t take his hand away. He left it there, as if waiting for Argus’s permission to do more.

And I stood as still as I could.

“Good horsey,” he cooed. “See, I’m a good guy too.”

Slowly, he groped for the reins.

Then another stupid squirrel came down the tree. Argus shot up, kicked the guy back, and dashed in the opposite direction the squirrel went.

I was undecided for a second. Should I go after Argus or help the guy, who was curled up in the grass, his hand on his stomach?

The Good Samaritan in me spoke louder, and I scooted over to him. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

With his eyes closed, the guy shook his head. “Not really.” Then why was he making a face? “I’ll be fine.” He took a long breath and sat up, opened his eyes, and looked at me.

My breath caught. His eyes were green-blue, clear like water, and shiny as light.

Amazing.

I willed myself to move and rose to my feet. “Well, if you’re fine, I’m going after my horse.”

“Wait.” The guy stood, gaining a good nine or ten inches on me. He still had his hand on his belly and made another painful face. His nose was kind of cute when scrunched up. Oh, what was I thinking? “He’s too far away already. We can catch up with him in my car.” The guy gestured to the black Grand Cherokee.

“Hmm.” I closed my mouth, unsure of what to say. I shouldn’t have looked at him, noticed him, much less ride in the same car as him. “I’m sure I can find him later,” I lied, walking away.

Lightning crisscrossed the sky, followed by deafening thunder. I wouldn’t make it home before getting drenched. However, I was more worried about Argus than me. He was the one who didn’t like storms, howling winds, and loud thunder. He was the one with past phantoms to overcome.

The first drops hit my face and I mentally cursed, adding a jacket to the list of things I should have picked up before rushing out of the house.

The SUV stopped by my side, and the window rolled down.

“Come on,” the guy said, leaning over and opening the door from the inside. He showed me the halter and reins. “Besides, you have to get these.”

Was he trying to trick me? A psycho luring a woman in before raping and killing her? Oh no. He could keep the halter and the reins. I had about two dozens of those back at the ranch.

I continued walking. “I’m fine.”

The rain intensified.

The guy drove the SUV to my side again and propped the door wide open. “Listen, I’m no crazy man, okay? I’m just trying to help.” He picked up his cell phone from his pocket and extended it toward me. “Here, you can keep this. If you think I’m crossing the line even for half a second, you’re welcome to call for help.”

I eyed the cell phone. What game was he playing?

“Oh, there’s this too.” He leaned over the backseat and grabbed a baseball bat. “Here. You can use it to hit me before calling for help.”

I laughed.

He smiled.

My breath caught again. Holy shit, the guy was too handsome. For that alone, I shouldn’t get in his car.

“Come on,” he urged. “You’re getting all wet.”

Yes, I was, but I would also avoid a lot of trouble if I got wet instead of getting in his car.

I glanced from side to side. Nobody was here. Nobody would know. All he had to do was drive me home, and then it would be as if nothing ever happened.

Feeling like a teenager lying to her parents about a sleepover turned into going out, I got into the car, and he handed me a towel. Was there anything his car didn’t carry?

“Thanks,” I said, taking the towel and keeping myself as far away from him as the seats allowed.

“You’re welcome.” He started driving in the direction Argus had gone. “My name is Leo, by the way.”

“I’m Hannah.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“So, hmm, does your horse run away a lot?”

“Argus isn’t technically mine. And no, this is the first time.”

Leo frowned. “I saw Argus’s scars. What happened to him?”

I sighed. “He was mistreated by his previous owner. His owner beat him and even let his dogs bite him. The Santa Barbara County Animal Control Unit took him away and brought him to me.”

“Sorry to ask, but why to you?”

I glanced at him, wondering if he was just trying to keep the small talk going or genuinely interested. It didn’t really matter. “It was my grandma’s job. Besides running a riding and training ranch, she also recovered traumatized horses.”

“Was?”

I looked out the window. The rain had picked up to a steady downpour, making it difficult to see much farther than the road. It would be impossible to find Argus like this.

“She died eight months ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He peered at me with a small smile, and my heart fluttered.

“It’s okay.” I busied myself by picking up the syringe and the ampoule from my pocket. “Maybe we should use this.”

Leo glanced at my hands. “Sedative? Not my preferred method of dealing with horses, but it may help. Prepare it, just in case.”

I broke the top of the ampoule and filled the syringe with the yellowish liquid. I recapped the syringe and returned it to my pocket.

As we passed through some trees along the road, I spotted a white dot among them. “There,” I yelled.

He pulled the car over a short distance from the trees, so as not to scare Argus away before we got close enough. If I thought Argus was shaking before, it had been nothing compared to now.

Leo grabbed the halter and reins. “Any plans?”

“Not really, but just know he will be extra frightened. He seems to hate rain and thunder.”

“Duly noted.” Leo grabbed a leather jacket from the backseat and offered it to me.

I stared at it, then shook my head. “I’m not made of sugar.”

His gaze locked with mine, and a shiver ran down my spine. “Maybe, but it would be better if you didn’t get a cold.”

“What about you?”

He smiled. “I never get sick.”

He jumped out of the car, and I felt paralyzed for a second. What had just happened?

I left his jacket on his seat and turned to leave the car, then saw him tiptoeing to where Argus was hidden. His wet white T-shirt became translucent and clung to his body, the muscles on his back contracting with each movement.

I swallowed, ashamed for noticing such things. Yes, I had a boyfriend, but I wasn’t blind. I tried not looking, but it was hard.

Hiding the reins in his pocket again, Leo halted several feet from Argus, arms outstretched to the sides. He was saying something, but with the rain, I couldn’t hear what.

What was I doing inside the car when I should be helping him?

Upset with myself, I shot out of the SUV and tiptoed closer, but not too close. For some reason, I thought Argus was starting to prefer the stranger to me.

Leo took a step forward. The horse nickered loudly and retreated farther into the trees. It seemed that he would have blended with the bushes and Douglas Iris flowers if he could. So Leo changed tactics.

He turned to me, grabbed the syringe from my pocket, and whispered, “Don’t move.”

Following his own advice, Leo knelt on the grass, his hands visible at his sides. He stayed like that without saying a word, his eyes on Argus, and his breathing quietly controlled.

After ten minutes, Argus stopped trying to blend in with the trees and flowers. After twenty minutes, Argus took a step forward. After thirty minutes, he took another step closer.

By then, we were all soaked and shivering.

I was about to give up, to tell Leo it wasn’t worth it, and to try and just grab the horse and inject him with the sedative somehow. Then thunder rang through the sky and Argus neighed, lifting his front legs. Leo jumped up and charged, putting his arms around Argus’s neck. The horse fought against it, but Leo was quick and strong, and pricked him with the syringe. The horse neighed once more, but Leo didn’t let go. He even got the halter on Argus in no time. The horse stumbled; the sedative was already working. Leo pushed him against one of the trees and pressed his body to Argus’s. The horse didn’t like it, but Leo said something and ran his hand along Argus’s neck. The horse quieted some.

After a few minutes, Argus slumped to the ground, his breathing slower and his eyes heavy.

Leo looked at me over his shoulder. “Now what?”