Page 26 of Adam's Rising

Adam nodded but kept his head down.

She didn’t move from behind the stall door, so Adam continued working.

A couple of minutes passed, and she finally walked off, sighing in the process.

Adam stood and stretched, then crept toward the gate.

Why am I hiding?Oh, right,because she might know Lala, that’s why.

“Hey, Stableboy!”

Adam froze. Maybe she was talking to a horse.

“Hey, Stableboy!” she repeated, louder, firmer. “You there in Prince’s stall, I’m talking to you. How ’bout you come help me saddle up my horse?”

Bolt followed Adam to the door, flicking his ears at the mention of his name.

Adam nudged him aside, unlatched the stall gate, and stepped into the aisle.

And there she was.

Claire.

Standing just outside Buttercup’s stall, one hand on her hip, sunlight threading through her strawberry-blond hair like spun gold. Her face — so familiar it ached — looked older, but still held that spark, that quiet confidence that had always undone him.

His heart pounded against his ribs like it was trying to break free. The last time he’d seen her, they were kids at a bonfire party at The Pitts. She laughed at a stupid joke he’d told, then cheered when he hopped into the back of Thomas’s truck and danced like a fool. She’d been so sweet, always talking to him about how well he’d trained Buttercup. Now she looked like a dream — grown-up, glowing, and still completely out of his league. Her parents were the richest folks in town — he was the stableboy.

He felt clammy all over. Breathless.

She tilted her head, studying him. “You okay? You look… flushed.” She stepped back, a nervous laugh escaping. “I was only teasing with theStableboything. It’s… um… from a book. Well, kind of — not the exact words.”

A cold wave swept over him.

She didn’t recognize him.

Two years hadn’t just changed her — they’d erased him.

Good, he told himself. That’s safer. For both of them — and Peter.

Still, it hurt like hell.

He forced a nod and a half-smile. “Yeah. I’ve read it.”

Claire’s lips curved up in response, her smile lighting up the barn like a sunrise. “Cool! I’m Claire.” She motioned to the stall. “And this is Buttercup. What’s your name? I’m guessing you’d rather I not call you Stableboy.”

“It works,” he said. But then his head rebelled against his heart. He had to protect Peter — and her, too, really. So he added, “Thom… as.” The two-syllable word, one he’d said a million times broke apart in his mouth. Even his head struggled to lie, though the one he’d been telling these past two days was for the right reason.

Her golden eyes narrowed, just slightly. “Thom… as. Okay…” She gave a little smirk, like she didn’t quite buy it. “Think you could help me saddle Buttercup,Thom… as?”

He dipped his chin, pulse roaring in his ears. And because some part of him screamed to hold on to the past, he whispered, “As you wish.”

7

One look, and Claire had known. No way this new hand was Thomas. She knew Thomas, but more importantly, she knew Adam. Yeah, they were brothers, but still…

She tilted her head side to side as she watched him walk to the tack room.

He’s Adam, I’m sure of it.I’d bet my horse on it.Well, maybe not my horse.