Page 63 of Saving the Rain
By the time I’ve returned to the barn, settled Mist in his stall, and made sure the other horses are attended to, my head is more than a little murky. Beau’s almost daily reminders ring in my ears not to slump against the wall and end up falling asleep down here amongst the horses.
Lethargy hits hard as I’m doing a last tidy-up in the tack room after the group who were out on a trail ride earlier. Hayes has done a half-decent job of handling things, I’ll give him that. It doesn’t escape my notice that he’s instinctively picked up more of the day-to-day jobs around the stables. The guy has got ranching in his blood and knows there’s always something to be done rather than idling about. But even with his quiet help, there’s still always extra work after so many of the horses have been in action at once.
Either way, once I’m walking out of the barn, just how goddamn heavy my boots feel finally registers as I take that first step to climb the stairs. My strides hit each plank, and I dig my phone out, checking if there are any last instructions from Beau I might’ve overlooked.
It’s only when I reach the top that movement registers. I freeze in place, realizing there’s a shadow in front of my door.
A figure huddled in the darkness that I can’t make out at first. My eyes sharpen their focus, immediately thinking it must be some sort of animal.
But that’s when the hidden figure moves, and the glow from my phone lights the space enough for my eyesight to adjust. Sitting on the floor, he’s slumped against the outside of my room, head in his hands. His blond hair sticks haphazardly on end, slightly wet from the drizzle setting in.
I flip on the flashlight from my phone as I step closer, illuminating the narrow landing where Kayce sits. As I close the short distance, his chin tilts to look up at me, and those blue eyes of his are fully bloodshot.
He drags a hand down his face, looking shattered and defeated, as his words hang broken on the night air.
“I had nowhere else to go.”
Chapter 27
My throat tries to work down a swallow. A vain attempt to digest the intense vulnerability of this moment.
Raine stands over me, shining a pool of warm light just in front of my boots.
I truly don’t know how I ended up here. It wasn’t so much a conscious choice as one borne out of desperation. A weak, pathetic part of me who couldn’t think of any other course of action.
He wasn’t at the barn when I arrived, and I didn’t even know what I was going to say if I came across him amongst the stalls and the horses, but I found myself climbing these stairs, and this spot is where I crash-landed. Crumpling into the morose heap he’s discovered me in. Stuck somewhere between self-loathing and the aching need to escape the voices in my head. The clawing melancholy encouraging me to slip back into old habits.
Now, I’m half-expecting him to kick me out. To toss me back onto the trash heap I came from. The guy who, for so long, has taken any and every opportunity to see me lose. Well, won’t he be thrilled that right now, I’m back in the dirt. Once again, I’m on my ass, and he gets to witness the crumbling mess of my life firsthand.
Raine’s silence is so oppressively loud. He remains stock-still, the tiny beam of light hovering over the few feet extending between us.Blowing out a long breath, I run my hand through my hair, down the back of my neck. Everything feels tipped off center, and I don’t know how to straighten myself in the saddle again.
“I’ll just... I’ll go.” I croak. My voice hoarse and downright pathetic sounding, even to my own ears.
He’s gonna laugh in my face, if not spit in it. So, I should probably take the opportunity to leave with my tail between my legs before this gets any worse. Before I make an even bigger mess of things.
Raine doesn’t want to see me. What the fuck was I thinking?
A boot thuds beside me, and he nudges at my shoulder. At first, I think he’s truly going all out on treating me like the unwanted stray I currently resemble, about to chase me off his doormat with a broom handle, but then I realize he’s pushing me to sit upright so that he can open the door.
“Get your ass out of the cold,” he mutters, and walks past, flicking on lights as he does so. My heart kicks into overdrive when he leaves the entrance wide open for me to follow behind.
Scrambling to my feet, I’m more than a little unsteady and stiff-limbed after being huddled in the chill and damp for so long. I’m also thoroughly unsure how Raine is going to react to me turning up here—especially when our last interaction was nothing less than a short-circuiting of my hard drive.
He’s already crouched in front of the firebox to one side of the kitchen by the time I creep in after him. Now free of his ranching work wear, that leaves him in his jeans and one of those faded flannel shirts he always favors. The sight of him is more arresting than it has any right to be. My eyes snag on the details I shouldn’t be taking in so eagerly. Powerful thighs and corded forearms. His strong jaw covered in that short cut beard. Stray curls falling forward across his eyes. I’m consumed by an all too familiar sensation of being sucked under when I see him like this, looking so strong and steady it steals all the air from my lungs.
“Boots off inside.” He doesn’t look my way as I let the door click softly behind me, instead focusing on continuing to feed kindling into the low flames. It’s a small, freestanding firebox, barely an ant compared to the giant thing we have up at Devil’s Peak Ranch roaringfiercely day and night. It’s a practical detail for a place so small, designed to keep a loft of this size comfortable and warm since it’s virtually one big room up here. The entire thing is probably four hundred square feet at the most.
It’s sized perfectly for one person to stay in, fitted with the basics. And that thought immediately sends a bolt of heat to a place low in my stomach. I’m suddenly very, very aware of how intimate this space is. I’ve pretty much invaded Raine’s quarters without warning. My attention snaps straight to where his bed sits, with rumpled sheets and bed covers, in the corner.
Goddamn it, seeing the obvious location where he lays his head at night sends a giddy pulse racing in the side of my throat.
I’m immediately flustered, wondering who he’s had in that bed since he’s been working here at Sunset Skies. Did he bring that redhead home from the bar that night? What about Jessie, since she was hanging off his every word at the bonfire? Was there someone here waiting for him the moment he left me behind on Devil’s Peak?
Jesus. Another shot of something heated drives a barb, a jagged gut punch, straight to my core when I picture him tangled in those sheets... only this time, with another guy.
My mouth goes dry, fingers all tingly as I take my boots off as he instructed. While bending down, I realize my hoodie is damp, and yank it off to hopefully let it dry in front of the fire for a while.
God, I’m suspended in the middle of something I don’t understand, fluttering around on the spot beside the door. Right now, I’m torn between bolting into the night without another look back, or staying.