“He said it was a bad place. He didn’t want to talk about it. Said he’d never go back again. Too many memories.”
“Poor Hector. He’s so nice.”
“Too bad none of it rubbed off on me, huh?” Jacián grins.
Kendall laughs. “That’s pretty much what I used to think about you! You know, you really pissed me off when you told me I was putting the meat in the freezer wrong. I wanted to punch you.”
“I was quite aware of that. However, you have to cut me some slack. I didn’t know about your little. . uh. . special gift back then. You do realize that the way you were stacking them was totally not logical, right?”
“Sure, I know that, but why the hell did you care? Are you some kind of control freak?”
“Maybe a little. Not much anymore. I gave it up.” He laughs bitterly. “It’s clear I have no control over anything these days.”
They are quiet for a while. The trail meanders in front of them, leading to a wide-open space. Jacián clucks his tongue and leans forward. His horse trots, then canters. Kendall flies after him, and they have a good chase for a quarter of an hour to where the woods grow thick.
“That was awesome,” Kendall says. Her cheeks glow. They dismount, and Kendall rummages around, finding the things she packed for lunch. “This day rocks. Thanks for making me go.”
Jacián stretches out on his back on the blanket. He plucks a long wheatlike weed and chews on it.
“Yeah, I really had to twist your arm.”
Kendall plops down beside him. “Oh, stop it. Why do we always have to argue?”
“Because it’s fun?”
Kendall smacks his chest, but this time he is ready. He grabs her arm and holds it tightly to his chest, pulls her toward him. “Don’t.”
Kendall struggles one-armed to sit up, surprise on her face. “Don’t what?” She can feel his body heat through his shirt.
“I think you’re afraid to like me.” Jacián’s dark eyes slice into hers for a long moment before he speaks again. “If you want to touch me, Kendall, then touch me. Don’t hide behind those little girl slaps.”
Her eyes widen, and she stares at him as something stirs in the pit of her gut. Something incredible.
And a little scary. Something she’s never felt before. But all she can say is, “What makes you think I want to touch you? I have a boyfriend. You have a girlfriend.”
“Is that the way it is?”
Kendall swallows hard. “Seems pretty clear that it is.”
Jacián holds her arm a moment longer, a flicker in his eyes and at the corner of his mouth the only indications he heard her. And then he releases her. “Whatever.” He clears his throat and gets to his feet, then pulls apples and some grain from his saddlebag for the horses.
Kendall stares at him from the blanket. Then she shakes her head and opens up her lunch, sorting her fruit salad into sections of the bowl before eating. But she tastes nothing. Her mouth is like sawdust.
Because she knows one thing is true, even though she hasn’t wanted to admit it.
The missing boyfriend who would do anything for her, who has been her best friend since birth? Never.
Ever. Made her feel like that. Never made her gut twist just with a look, a touch. Never made her so hot she wanted to tackle him, kiss him hard. Press her body against his and roll around in a field, not even caring that little bits of grass were getting on her clothes.
“You’re not going to eat?” she says after a while, breaking the awkward silence.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I made you a lunch.”
“Thanks. But I’m still not hungry.”
Kendall glares. How can somebody be so hot one minute and so annoying the next? Whatever the case, the perfect day is ruined.
Ruined by the truth.
And the guilt builds. The guilt of Nico. She curses her own weakness. He’s only been missing a month.
It’s no different from if she’d gone to Juilliard and he’d gone to Bozeman.
Except it is. It’s vastly different. Worse, because he no longer has a voice. Worse, because what would people say if she gave up on him? What would Nico’s parents say? What if he’s not dead? She imagines the looks on their faces.
And on his.
“Stop it,” she mutters. She can’t let her brain go to weird places. Nothing happened. And nothing will.
The silence grows prickly and painful as they pack up. Head home.
She starts counting horse steps anxiously as they travel back to the ranch. One hundred, five hundred.
Even when she hits a thousand, she can’t stop counting. She can’t stop, she decides, until she hears a hawk cry.
After two thousand she convinces herself that if she hears either a mourning dove or a hawk she can end this. At three thousand she concludes that if she sees a grouse or even a goddamn rabbit, she can stop counting. Finally, thankfully, at 3,842 the rabbit comes through for her.
But the rabbit doesn’t fix her problem.
So the counting begins again, fresh from zero.
Her anxiety builds. She hates this. Just wants to go home.
They put the horses in the barn, and Kendall watches awkwardly as Jacián tends to them, rubbing them down, getting them water and food, putting their blankets on them. He doesn’t look at her. Eventually she just turns and leaves, walking up to the house alone. She knocks on the door and is greeted by Mrs.
Obregon and a delicious smell and sizzle from the stove. Her stomach, after only the few pieces of fruit for lunch, growls loudly.
“Can you stay for dinner?” Mrs. Obregon asks, handing Kendall the phone.
“Yes,” Marlena says. “Stay!”
“I should get home.” Kendall dials her mother and prays for her to pick up. But there’s no answer. “Hey, Mom,” she says to the machine, thinking fast. “I’m back at Hector’s. Yeah. Mmm-hmm. It was good. Just pick me up. . whenever. . ” She trails off. “Okay. See you soon. Bye.”
Kendall hangs up the phone and smiles with a brightness she doesn’t feel. “My mom’ll be here in a minute. I’m going to wait outside. Thanks for. . yeah. The horses. Everything.”