Page 6

FIVE

Isla

“Hey, girl, did ya miss me?” I coo into Starlight’s neck as she softly whinnies. “Because I sure missed you. Thank you for getting me home to Rafe.” She neighs and nods her head almost as though she’s accepting my thanks and understands my words.

“Here, babe, I know you wanted to give her a treat,” Rafe says, coming up next to me with several apples perched in his hands.

Taking them from him with a smile of thanks, I hold out one in my hand and giggle when Starlight’s lips lightly tickle my palm when she nips it, nibbling on the apple. When she finishes the first one, she snuffles, and I hold out the second sweet treat so she can repeat the prior action.

“She’s always been so gentle with you,” Rafe states. “She could be starving, and I think she’d be delicate, y’know what I mean?”

“I had a good teacher between Pancho, Paps, and you, when it came to raising her,” I remind him while she eats her third apple. “Okay, old girl, how about we turn you out for some fresh air so your stall can get mucked out.”

“You’re not mucking out her stall today, Issy. For fuck’s sake, you can barely hold yourself up!” Rafe exclaims.

“I’ve got it, Miss Issy,” Luis offers, walking from the tack room with a pitchfork and wheelbarrow. “She was next to go out so I could clean her stall, but I knew you wanted to see her first.”

“Thanks, Luis,” I reply, giving Rafe a wink. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to do any of the heavy lifting and cleaning. While I haven’t cracked or broken as many ribs as he has, I’ve had my fair share over the years. “Can you give her some special feed, too? She deserves it for what I put her through, as well as what she did for me. She’s supposed to be retired, not gallivanting across the countryside to help save my life.”

“She’s the reason you made it home, babe,” Rafe softly reminds me. “Gazer isn’t as skilled as she is when it comes to knowing the immediate vicinity because she doesn’t know the area as well as Starlight does, remember?”

I nod even as my face falls. Stargazer was a total surprise because Starlight’s never carried a foal to term for some reason. Neither Pancho nor the vet can understand it, either, but when she came up pregnant with Stargazer, we watched her like a hawk. Hell, I think I slept in the cot in the tack room until she foaled.

“I know. Did I fail her, Rafe?” I ask, exhaustion seeping into my tone.

“No, you didn’t, sweetheart. She’s been learning the ropes on how to be a barrel racing champion,” he replies. “We used to take Starlight out to run the property and the back fields of the town when we were kids, which you haven’t had time to do with Stargazer.”

“You’re right,” I murmur, swaying on my feet.

“Come on, Issy, let’s get you back to the house so you can get some rest.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m tired of resting?” I snip, causing him to raise his brow.

“Really, Issy? You wanna go there?” he queries, his voice going soft.

Fuck. I’ve ticked him off and that’s not what I meant to do by a longshot. Holding up my hand I apologize, “I’m sorry, Rafe. I don’t mean to be a bitch. I’m hurting, worried about Stargazer, and angry at Gage, but that’s no reason to be ugly toward you.”

He shakes his head before scooping me into his arms. “Babe, if that’s what you call being a bitch, we gotta work on that some more. Because trust me, I understand your frustration and anger one hundred percent and then some. I know you’re tired of resting, but you really wore yourself down. First by fighting for your life, then by riding bareback for nearly ten miles. Hell, you already had a bad infection by the time Doc saw you.”

I close my eyes, loving the way his voice rumbles against my ear. His heart beats steadily as he walks back toward the big house. “Thank you, Rafe,” I whisper as sleep claims me. I know he’ll keep me safe as long as he has breath in his body, which is what allows me to relax so fully while in his arms.

“BamBam and Gopher are headed out to get the trailer,” Rafe tells me when he walks into the living room where I’ve been relaxing.

Like the rest of the house, it was built for comfort, with large, expanded rooms, lots of windows, and a unique farmhouse feel. If it wasn’t so darned hot out, I would’ve sat out on the front porch in the swing that Paps had installed years ago, when I was a little girl.

My gaze swings to his and I ask, “Is Stargazer with the trailer?”

“I don’t know, babe. Pokey has some kind of program or some shit that he’s using to search for any signs of her as well. I know the vet chipped her, of course, but nothing’s popped on any veterinary clinic systems.”

I don’t ask how Pokey manages that because it definitely falls under the classification of club business, which makes it not mine. Even if it is my baby that they’re out there searching for. “Hopefully, that’s a good sign,” I murmur. “Are you going with them?”

“Not yet. Poke’s still got some other searches going, and I may need to check into those if they bear any fruit,” he replies.

“Do you think Constance will let me in the kitchen to cook?” I question.

“She’ll let you in to taste test, but you know she’s not gonna let you lift a finger just yet. Pity, too, because I’m in the mood for some of your chicken enchiladas, babe.”

I grin, because I learned to cook under the tutelage of Pancho’s wife, Constance, so ‘my’ chicken enchiladas are actually made using her recipe. Still, it sends a thrill through me at his words. “Well, maybe she’ll let me do some chopping or something,” I mumble.

“Then I’ll walk you in, snag a cookie or two, and see what I can get into while I wait for Pokey to get back to me,” he replies.

“Works for me. I’ve been smelling her peanut butter cookies for hours now. A plate full plus a huge glass of milk to accompany them will help me feel better, I’m sure,” I tease. The saying goes that an apple a day will keep the doctor away, but in my experience, that works just as well with Constance’s homemade cookies.

He grins down at me, taking my hand in his and lacing our fingers. “I’m positive that peanut butter cookies have curative powers, babe.”

I take my dirty plate and silverware to the sink, rinse them off so that there’s no crumbs left on them then place them in the dishwasher. Several hours ago, Rafe and his brothers rode out on their Harleys, and I hope that means they got a lead on where either my horse is or where Gage is holed up. Rafe has shared his thoughts that there must be something going on because he definitely was acting outside of his normal character, but I’m not so willing to forgive him for what he did to me or put me through. At least not yet. He better have a damn good reason behind betraying me the way he did before I even contemplate reconciling my differences with him.

After making a plate for Rafe to devour later and tucking it into the refrigerator with Saran wrap protecting it, I decide to finish cleaning the kitchen, so Constance isn’t stuck with that chore in the morning. With the leftovers put away, the counters wiped down, and the timer set up on the coffee pot to fill tomorrow morning, I decide a nice hot soak in the bath will do my tight body wonders.

I’m still stiff and sore as hell, which is frustrating because it means I can’t ride or even help care for my girl, but I know Rafe will lose his mind if I even attempt to do anything the least bit strenuous. Still, it’s been over a week since I woke up at this point and it gets easier every day to move and breathe.

I just wish they could find Gage and Stargazer. I have a few choice things to say to my former friend, that’s for fucking sure! Keeping Rafe’s teachings in mind, I check all the doors and make sure they’re locked, then set the alarm before I head up to his room.

A tiny thrill courses through me as I gather my nightclothes. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect I’d be sleeping in Rafe’s bed. Okay, maybe my far-fetched fantasies, but even still, I know for a fact he doesn’t bring women here. If he’s with anyone in that way, he uses a crash room at the clubhouse. I don’t really understand why and I’m too chickenshit to ask him.

“God, this ensuite is fantastic,” I say out loud as I start adding the water in the tub. I know Rafe mentioned years ago that he’d had a few renovations done on the big house after Paps died, but never saw the changes.

This bathroom looks like it could be in one of those magazines that panders to the rich and famous. Double vanity sinks with the invisible pour faucets, a huge linen closet, fancy mirrors over the sinks with medicine cabinets behind them, a separate room with the toilet and another sink. But the piece de resistance, as far as I’m concerned, is the bathtub itself. It’s big and sunken enough that even someone as tall as Rafe can comfortably recline with their feet outstretched, plus there are jets along the sides. The shower stall that’s along the opposite wall has multiple rain showerheads protruding from the tile, which I’ve definitely availed myself of, along with a deep bench and built-in shelves for holding shampoo, soap, and conditioner.

I snicker as the tub begins to fill because I have four bottles of product in the shower right now—my shampoo, conditioner, hair mask, and body wash, while Rafe has one bottle and a bar of soap. Granted, his shampoo does double duty as it’s a two-in-one with conditioner mixed in, but it amazes me that his gorgeous head of hair looks as good and shiny as it does without him using a fancy product that costs a mint. I use what my salon recommends which is pricey but given the fact that my expenses aren’t all that much, I feel I’m worth spending the extra money on.

Tossing in some essential oils and Epsom salts to help ease the burden of my tenderness, I strip out of my clothes, throw them into the hamper, then sink into the hot water with a long, drawn-out sigh. Every day, I’m able to do a little bit more physically, but my ribs still hurt like hell whenever they’re stretched or pulled while I try to exercise my body. The bruises are finally yellow and a disgusting shade of putrid green, but that’s better than the black and deep purple they were so I count it as a win.

After soaking for a little bit, I wash up quickly because I’m suddenly exhausted. I had wanted to shave my legs, but right now, it’s the least of my worries. I pull the plug with my toe, giggling a little bit because Rafe has always told me I have monkey toes, then get out and grab one of his thick, absorbent towels.

“Seems he likes some of the finer things in life too,” I muse as I dry myself off before slipping a clean pair of underwear on and then my nightgown. With that done, I brush my teeth, moisturize my face, then head into bed. “I need to remember to talk to Rafe about going back home,” I mutter as I pull back the covers on the side I’ve been sleeping on. “That’s a problem for later Issy.”