Page 42 of A Curse On Black Lake (Black Lake Gothic Cowboys #1)

Chapter thirty-four

Eliana

Ignoring him, I push Winnie harder and pull my cowboy hat tighter over my head to keep it from blowing off my head.

The Spirits are making my brain nearly vibrate with the sound. Winnie pushes harder like she knows I need this. She knows I need to fly, even if it’s for a moment.

Blood will feed the soil.

Blood.

Blood.

Blood.

Tears prick my eyes again, and I can’t stop the tumult of emotions flowing through my body.

In the back of my mind, I can hear Killian yelling for me and Daisy’s pounding hooves behind me.

We crest a hill, and I can feel Winnie getting tired, but she’s still going. It’s been a while since we ran like this.

The echo of Killian’s hands on my body feels like a comforting ghost as the fear of someone trying to come for me smothers it.

Back and forth.

Up and down.

Good and bad.

Right and wrong.

Fear and bravery.

Courage and cowardice.

Love and loneliness.

Pain and grief.

All swirling in my bones, dragging me down, locking me up.

I’m not in control anymore; my body is acting in survival mode as we go towards the edge of Black Lake.

I think I’m having a panic attack.

“Eliana!” Killian yells.

I ignore him, and Winnie maneuvers through the trees, slowing down enough not to trip. She navigates the softer terrain with ease, and then we’re at the edge of the lake.

Winnie dips her head up and down, stomping her hoof. I lean over and kiss her long neck before I hop down, take my hat, boots, and clothes off, tossing them to the side, and dive in.

Uncaring.

The Spirits dull, and I’m finally able to take a breath.

There are gators and snakes in these waters.

Both could equally kill me. We wouldn’t be able to get to an antivenom fast enough.

The other I’d probably bleed out before Killian could get to a phone.

I have no interest in killing myself, but I have to admit, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, go to the people I’ve lost in my life.

I’m tired.

He needs you, child.

“I know,” I grunt to them, and float on my back. I don’t resent the fact someone else needs me, but the pressure is overwhelming to be what he needs, even if I want to ensure that I am. It’s confusing and I’m not sure how to work through these emotions, old and new.

Water splashes, and I slip beneath the surface.

The water is dark. I don’t know that I could call it a phenomenon.

But people have come to study this lake, with no explanation as to the color.

It’s literally black. Grandma Lily said it changed after Cassandra said those fateful words.

It’s been so long since the tragedy happened, no one would remember its change.

Hands wrap around my arms, and yank me to the surface.

Killian’s large hand pushes my white hair out of my face, and his expression is twisted in fear and anger.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble. My chest hurts because my heart is beating so fast.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

His arm tightens around me, and I feel like I’m suffocating. Pushing off of him, I float back into the water, but he grabs my leg before I can get far enough from him.

“Talk to me!” he commands.

I stand and dip back under the water to push my hair back from my face.

When I rise above the surface, I jerk back at his piercing eyes. His beard and hair, drips with water. His t-shirt is still on his body, but his hat is gone. I spot it over his shoulder laying next to my clothes.

When my focus returns to him he looks like he’s about to burst.

“I’m fine,” I rasp.

“Then tell me what the hell is going on. You know this water has gators and snakes. You didn’t check. You just went in.”

I shrug, and that seems to make him angrier.

“I don’t know how to explain what I saw, but it’s like you were running from hell itself. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you, if I did. Did I?” he asks, no, begs me to tell him.

“Gators and snakes are typically father east. I wasn’t worried,” I mutter.

“Could’ve fooled me!” he yells.

I look up at the beautiful cypress trees standing proudly in the water. They are old, strong, and have seen more than most. I wonder what the trees would say if we could talk to them?

Killian grips my face between his hands, forcing me to look at him. “Please,” he rasps.

The anxious fight to ignore my feelings bleeds out of me. I’m not angry at Killian. I don’t want to fight him. That’s not what this is about.

“I wanted to go for a swim,” I offer.

“Bullshit,” he grunts.

“I wanted to see you naked?” I offer, hoping to avoid talking about any of this because I don’t understand it myself.

We don’t have much control over our lives. Humans struggle with that. Especially when it’s ripped from them. I had it ripped from me at such a young age that it has become something I’m used to. Grams helped me work through what surrender truly meant.

Very few people know that surrendering isn’t giving up. It’s letting go.

But when I let go, and surrender to the tide, I’m still pulled in too many directions. To the point, surrender feels nearly impossible. Surrender becomes chains, and I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to be. Surrender is supposed to free.

“You didn’t have to do any of this to get me naked, little witch,” Killian says.

He wraps his thick arm around my ribs and lifts me from the water, forcing my legs around his waist.

Killian is making it very difficult for me to think of life without him. He’s yet another part of my reality I’m scared to surrender to. I know that I should. I can feel it. But I don’t want to. It will add another link to my chain.

“I’m overwhelmed,” I whisper.

The Spirits have gone to a low drone, but it still feels like my ears are ringing.

“Is it the Spirits?” he asks.

“Yes, and it’s… our connection.”

He jerks back a little. “Did I do something to offend you? If I did, I’m—”

“No, no. You said it yourself, there’s a connection between us and it’s intense. Too intense, on top of all this other stuff.”

“What can I do to make it better?” he asks, holding me still.

I push his hair back and drag my fingers through is wet beard. “Let me swim,” I whisper.

His jaw tightens, and he lets me go.

I float back and swim around; the pressure eases.

The thrumming turns to a tolerable buzz.

Sometimes the only way to stop is to put yourself in nature, so deep you can’t see anything else.

So, I coat myself in it. I stay in the water while Killian dries out on shore, keeping watch for gators and snakes.

I swim until my fingers prune and my stomach growls.

Feeling more balanced, I get out of the water, and the way Killian looks at me makes me want to finish undressing and run the other way at the same time.

I’ve never been with a man before. I’ve never had the opportunity.

Not that I was looking either. The only male who ever paid attention to me was Eddy, and we were teens.

Killian’s attention makes me wonder what it would be like to succumb to the tension that has only grown between us.

I know what he wants. He can sense what I want, but I’m scared of everything, and I hate myself for it.

For all the things I’ve faced in life, I should be braver, stronger. But I’m not.

He stands wordlessly and pulls his shirt on, then hands me my clothes. I button my jeans and slide my shirt over my head before getting my boots on.

He lifts himself onto Daisy, and I get on Winnie.

Killian whistles, and the dogs come running from somewhere.

We head to the pasture the cattle are in and work on getting them moved. The dogs work the cattle barking and nipping enough to get them going. It takes us a few hours, but we get one group of cattle moved over, and then head back to the barns.

He unsaddles Daisy and walks past me. “Thank you,” I tell him.

Killian stops in his tracks and sets the saddle down. I stare at him, confused. Then he pulls me into his arms, and I break again.

Wrapping my arms around his waist, his body trembles against me. I lean back and silent tears stream down his face. I haven’t seen this man cry, let alone tear up.

He misses his father, like I miss Grams. Grief comes in waves, and today it has drowned me, and it yanked him under the current.

It’s the little things that set you off. You never see it coming.

Killian holds me until he stops shaking, and my tears have stopped.

“Sorry,” he rasps, holding his fingers over his closed eyes.

I shake my head. “You never have to apologize to me,” I tell him.

“I miss him. It came out of nowhere and…” he trails off.

“I know the feeling.”

He agrees and chucks my chin before he picks up the saddle and puts it away. I get Winnie’s off of her and she goes out to the pasture with the other horses.

After we muck out the stalls, and Killian artfully dodges Sunny. I milk my cow and get the milk into the fridge.

Killian finished up the goat’s shelter, and there’s nothing in the forecast, so we leave them out to do their thing. They seem happy in their new temporary space.

By the time we’re done, it’s dinnertime, and I didn’t have a chance to go home. I’ll have to tomorrow.

We walk up the hill, and Killian grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together.

I’m so shocked I freeze, still holding onto his large hand that dwarfs mine.

He looks over his shoulder and drops our hands. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

“No, that’s not …” I take a deep breath and take my hat off so I can see him fully.

“Killian—”

“Eliana—”

A heady sense of the unknown thickens the air.

“You first,” I whisper.

His coffee color eyes get darker, and his jaw pulses. Killian yanks my arm so hard I’m forced to fall into him, and he grabs the front of my neck, tilting my chin up. We’re a breath away.

Killian’s gaze drops to my lips then back to my eyes, searching for permission, and I’m silently begging him to do it.

“Fuck it.”

His mouth smashes onto mine, and everything goes silent. The only thing I can hear is my own heart beating harder than it ever has before.