Say You'll Stay Page 13


“I could ask you the same.”

“You could. But you’ve probably guessed I’m coming home from a hot date.”

Wyatt was always a playboy. He was young, sexy, and came from the Hennington family line, which bought him about anything he wanted. The same could be said about being a Townsend.

“Couldn’t have been too hot if you’re standing here talking to me.” I challenge him.

Suddenly I remember the last time I saw him. I quickly check to see what I’m wearing, and catch Wyatt doing the same. “I’m not a cuddle after sex kind of guy.”

“I figured.”

Trent and Wyatt were notorious for breaking hearts. Each naïve girl would swear they’d be the one to tame them. I was the lucky one. Zach is three years older than Wyatt and me. He was always the sensible, loyal, and responsible one of the brothers.

“Let’s go for a ride, Presley Mae.”

I loathe my damn name. “You do mean horseback, right?”

One can never tell with this lot.

He lets out a long, booming laugh. “Like I would ever dream of that happening. My brother would cut my dick off.”

“Your brother has no claim on me.”

“Never said he did, darlin’. Never said he did.” Wyatt slaps my ass as he walks past and saddles the horses.

“Pig.”

Once he’s done, he hands me the reins for a horse I’ve never ridden. “You getting on the horse or are you gonna stand there and look at it?” he says from the back of our largest horse.

“I haven’t ridden in a long time,” I admit with fear.

“Your instincts will kick in. Hop up,” Wyatt encourages.

He’s probably right. I put my foot in the stirrup and get seated. “What’s the horse’s name?”

“Shortstop.”

I inwardly groan. “Of course it is.” Wyatt chuckles, knowing I already hate this horse. “Surprised you didn’t give me one named Zach.”

Zach was a shortstop. My fantastic, talented, gorgeous, baseball playing, and going somewhere boyfriend. Scouted by every college and promised the world. I loathe baseball. It stole everything from me.

“Thought about it but figured you’d kick it too much.”

“I’m about to kick you.”

“I might like it.” He winks and then heads out of the barn.

I rub the horse’s neck and familiarize myself with him. “All right, Shortstop. I’m Presley. I haven’t ridden in a while, so be gentle, okay?”

Shortstop bobs his head, and I smile. I exit the barn, hoping that maybe I can breathe again.

Wyatt doesn’t say anything as we move through the fields in the moonlight. He silently walks beside me on his horse, allowing me some time to quietly reflect. He always knows when to push and when to back off. It’s the one thing I love most about him.

We ride along the property for a while, the sun is peeking over the horizon. No words are spoken until we reach a field I know well. “What do you say?” I can hear the dare in his voice.

I bite my lip as I think about it. If we allow the horses to open up, it’ll require some galloping, which I haven’t done in seventeen years. I can be scared or I can plunge in head first. “Let’s go.”

Once we break through the clearing, we get a few yards out and Wyatt nods. My nerves flutter as the horse pushes through. It’s been so long. But I remember the feelings as if it were yesterday. I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath before the trees part. As I exhale, Shortstop flies.

I smile as I hold the reins and lean forward. My legs move with his gallop and I feel alive. My heart can’t contain any pain as I fly. Each push of his legs sends me to a place where there is no sadness. No death haunting my thoughts, just air. The struggle to breathe lifts. All I am is free. Freedom breaks the chains that have bound me. Chains that have crippled me.

We ride for miles through the Tennessee countryside. I glance over and see Wyatt staring back. He smiles as if he can read my thoughts. He pulls back, slowing his horse to a trot, and I follow.

“There she is,” he says innocently. I know Wyatt, and nothing he says is offhanded. He’s a man who says what he means.

“You see too much.”

“I know you. I’ve known you since we were infants. So yeah, I see you. You going to tell me what’s really going on?”

I jerk back on the reins and the lightness I felt moments ago dissipates. “I’m just trying to get my bearings.”

Wyatt doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the air thicken. “I’ve never known you to give up.” I look over quickly and his eyes stay on mine. “Don’t start now. Fight hard, because there’s nothing you can’t do.”

So many thoughts float through my mind, but I can’t seem to get them to come out. I want to cry, scream, confess, and run as fast as I can. I don’t want to feel anymore. Why can’t I be numb? Isn’t there a way for me to I can hold onto that feeling of weightlessness? Because I really need it. I deserve it.

“Not today. Give me today,” I say and then spur the horse forward.

As we race back toward the ranch, there is no peace. The high that I was chasing is gone. Freedom is an intoxicating emotion that I want to drown in. But I’m not free. I’ve been condemned to live back in Bell Buckle.

Wyatt follows me to the barn and holds the horses as I climb down. “Thanks for this,” I say, touching his arm.

He smiles and tips his head. “Anytime, Cowgirl.”

“You know, you’re one of the few things I missed.”

He laughs. “I always knew you liked me best.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m glad you’re back. I know you’re not, and I get why you stayed away.” He pauses for just a second. “But I’m glad you’re in Bell Buckle, where you belong. Next we’ll work on getting you to smile more.”

“Don’t get too comfortable with me being around. I’m not staying forever.” I turn and head out.

“Presley?” Wyatt’s voice stops me.

“Yeah?”

“There’s not a soul who doesn’t have a skeleton of some sort, but the longer you keep it locked up, the longer it’s going to hold you down.”

Tears pool and I fight back the words. I want to blurt it out. Tell him, or hell, anyone , the truth. No one understands the visions that I can’t stop seeing. His eyes. The way he didn’t move. The black bag he left in. It’s there all the damn time. I want it to go away, but it won’t.

“I want—” I start. “I can’t yet. I want to, but I can’t.”

He nods. “Well, anytime you wanna ride my stallion . . . feel free to let me know.”

“Oh, my God.” I laugh. Leave it to Wyatt to soften the mood.

“That’s what they call me.”

“What lucky girls.” I snort in disgust.

“Hey,” he says as an afterthought. “What are you doing tonight?”

I pretend to have to think. “Not a damn thing.”

“Be ready at seven. I need someone to take a ride with me.”

I look at him as if he sprouted a third head. That’s all I need. Being seen in this damn town riding around with another Hennington brother. No, thank you. “On second thought, I am busy.”

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