Page 61 of Ly to Me (Devils of Alliston Springs #1)

Carver

The Plans

I held Lyra until her tears stopped and she nodded off in my arms. Gently working my way from beneath her, I reached for my phone.

Hayes: New lil fella is out in your pasture.

That was it. One message, straightforward, from over an hour ago. I hadn’t even heard his truck pull up, but he probably went to the furthest gate he could, preferring the more private approach.

Carver: Thanks. I owe you another time slot.

Hayes: Don’t know how much longer I’ll need that for. Appreciate it, though.

Carver: If you tell him, I had nothing to do with it.

Hayes: Has to find out sooner or later.

I pocketed my phone, sure if I asked what that meant, Hayes would go silent.

He wasn’t much of a talker as it was, and knowing too much about what he did with those time slots was likely to cause issues.

Issues I wouldn’t be able to focus on because right now, the only thing on my mind was righting what had been done to my wife.

Lyra shuddered on the bed, wrapping her arms around her chest. I carefully worked the blanket from under her, only to cover her and kiss her cheek, whispering that I loved her.

Not knowing how long she’d sleep for, I taped a note on the door.

Image of a note, which reads: Ly, In the barn. If you read this and I’m not here, eat something, then come out in those jeans and your boots. Love, Car

Careful not to wake her, I shut each door as if the house was made of glass.

By the time I made it to the barn, I left the doors wide open, keeping an eye on our bedroom window as I gathered flakes of hay to cap off the troughs with.

The other horse, an unnamed rescue that had been skin and bones months ago but now sported a slightly rounded belly, snorted as I passed.

“Missed ya too.” I tossed a few flakes into her trough, the snort she gave this time sending pieces of hay into my face. “How kind of you,” I said, spreading the sarcasm thick like she’d understand.

“Talkin’ to the horses?”

“They like it.” I cocked my head over my shoulder, growling low as I took in my wife. “Those notes might end up bein’ the death of me if you follow them that closely.”

Her arms crossed loosely over her bare chest. “Wasn’t that part of the rules?”

“It was.” I turned and leaned against the stall gate, my perusal starting at the flowery leather boots that turned into light-wash jeans as I moved up, and up, onto smooth and creamy skin. Bare skin.

“Was?”

“Yeah. Was.”

“Are you sayin’ you want to break the contract?”

“I’m sayin’—” I’d forgotten what I was saying. I tipped my head back, taking in the ceiling like it would make me less hard.

It didn’t.

I adjusted myself, letting my head fall back to look at her. She dropped her arms, hips swaying as she walked up to me, her puffy eyes bringing me right back to the terrors of her past.

“Fuck me, Ly.” My palm met overgrown stubble as I scrubbed it down my face. Reaching for the collar at the nape of my neck, I peeled my shirt off. “Put this on.”

“But—”

“I’m tryin’ really hard not to fuck you right where you’re standing. I had something else planned and you having nothin’ on isn’t keeping me, or you, in the right headspace.”

She stood there, shoulders slumped.

“You know I love you.” I started fitting my shirt over her head.

“I do,” she replied softly.

“Then please know nothing you told me changes that.”

She nodded as I grabbed her wrist, pushing her arm through the sleeve, then moving onto the other. It was clear she didn’t believe me.

Using my thumb and forefinger, I gripped her chin, forcing her eyes to mine. “I mean it. Your body isn’t a tool for you to sway people with, much less me.”

“Because you’d love me in a potato sack?” she quipped.

I lightly gripped her throat and pulled her in for a tender kiss. “I’d fucking adore you in a potato sack.” My lips brushed over hers. “You’re safe with me, sweetheart.”

She batted her lashes, fighting back the wetness there, then jerked her chin toward one of the stalls. “You want me to help feed them? Is that why you told me to meet you out here?”

“No, but you can give them more if you want. That one there could use it.”

Lyra stepped past me, following my gesture to the stall. “Why does”—she bent down, looking at the underside of the horse through the metal door—“ she need more food?”

“Her previous owners left her alone in a barren pasture. She was emaciated when Hayes brought her here.”

Ly’s throat bobbed. “You like feeding starved women, don’t you?”

She laughed.

I did not.

“You did eat, right?”

“I came out here in the exact things you told me to wear. You think I dodged the rest of your orders by not eating?” My brow arched. Ly sighed. “I ate a protein bar, if you must know.”

“Good girl.” My horse rubbed her head into my shoulder. “You too, B. Needy thing.”

“She really likes you.”

“She really likes anyone who feeds her treats all the time and gives her as much freedom as I do.”

“She feels safe with you.” Lyra stroked the unnamed horse’s nose, her statement sinking into my chest. Hard. “What’s this one’s name?”

“What do you want it to be?”

“She doesn’t have a name?”

“Not yet.” I patted B’s shoulder before heading into the tack room. “You wanna ride Ms. No Name?” I hollered through the open door while searching for her bridle.

“I’ve never ridden one before.”

“S’okay. I’ll teach you.”

“Won’t that bother her?”

“No. She’s actually quite friendly and will enjoy the walk.”

Lyra was still stroking the horse as I came out of the tack room. Her gaze shot to the rope in my hand and something like excitement lit her eyes. I chuckled. “This is for Ms. Still Don’t Have A Name. Not you.”

She flushed as I opened the stall and clicked my tongue, guiding the horse out.

“Don’t get close to her backside. Most horses kick, and she’s no different.”

As I moved her horse to the cross tie, getting her prepped for a saddle, Lyra’s color turned deeper.

“You’re makin’ it really hard to not kick myself for giving you my shirt.”

A smile touched her lips, subtle and soft even as she took in the heart she carved on my chest. “I’m liking you without it, at least.”

I grinned as I got to work fitting the saddle on Lyra’s horse.

“Do you know how old she is?”

I titled my head back and forth. “Vet said somewhere between five and seven years old.”

“And Bee?”

“She’s somewhere between twelve and fifteen. Didn’t even have a barn yet when I got her. That’s actually how I met Hayes.”

“He build barns?”

“No, just seems to have an affinity for taking in strays, even when he doesn’t have the room for it.

Back then, he was just my tattoo artist’s friend.

When Grant called me out of the blue one day, asking if I could take in a horse, they both came to deliver her.

Now Hayes has it in his head that I can take in every animal he finds. ”

I could hear the amusement in her voice as she said, “And you just let him give you all these animals?”

“I’ve got room. Money. Time. And they keep my mind and hands busy.”

“How many?”

Settling the saddle over the horse's back, I started counting. “Two horses, one rooster, three goats but one is pregnant so four soon, a handful of ducks that stay by a part of the stream I fenced in, and now a donkey.”

Lyra let out a low whistle. “Explains why Jamie wasn’t black and blue all over when I got here.”

I snorted. “These hands have been quite busy lately or else he’d be more black and blue than I left him before. None of that has a thing to do with the animals.” She fell silent as I finished and unclipped Ms. No Name from the cross ties. “Come on.” I stretched my arm out, giving Ly my hand.

“You sure she’s going to be okay with me riding her? I don’t know what I’m doing.”

I lifted my other hand that held the rope. “I’m not going to let go until you’re comfortable.” Lyra nodded once, looking uneasy. “How ’bout I ride her with you?”

Her nod was instant and vigorous. “Yes, please.”

“Hold this for me.” I unraveled the rope and put it into Lyra’s open hand.

“Nothin’ bad will happen. Promise.” I jogged ahead to open the gate leading into a small ring I used to warm-up the horses.

When I turned around, Ms. No Name was rubbing against Lyra’s side, making her seem lighter than she had in days.

The sound and sight alone made my heart thump wildly.

I let Lyra keep the rope as I guided them both in, then shut the gate and grabbed the step stool. Her brow arched suspiciously. “You use a step stool to get on them?”

“Sure.”

“Why do I feel like that’s too clean to be old?”

“Maybe I cleaned it,” I lied.

“Liar. You’re tall enough to do it without, and that’s brand new.” She passed the lead rope back to me and accepted my hand as she climbed the steps.

“I know how much being independent means to you. If you want to learn to ride, I don’t want your…height…to hinder that. Put your boot in the stirrup”—she followed where I pointed—“just like that. Grab hold of the horn on the saddle and swing your other leg…yeah. You got it.”

I could tell she was holding back from some smart-ass reply about her being intelligent enough to figure it out on her own, or capable of doing so, all to which I’d agree with.

She was smart. She was capable. She was so much more than she believed she was.

But sometimes it was nice not to have to figure things out on your own.

I settled in behind the saddle, and as I reached for the split reins, goosebumps flooded Ly’s arms. She rubbed them away as I brought Ms. No Name to a walk. “I have somethin’ I need to tell you,” Lyra said.

“Is it the name of your horse?” I sure as fuck hoped it was, though my body went tense in preparation for it to not be.

“It’s about Jamie. I think he’s stealing from Oak Heart.”

“What?” The tone I used was perhaps too sudden. The horse snickered, and Lyra straightened in the saddle.

“He’s stealing. He gave a box of—” She used air-quotes as she said ‘meds,’ then continued, “to Nadine in town.”

“Who’s Nadine?”