The Girl He Used to Love Page 8

That was what Dean needed to do tomorrow while he waited for his car—talk to Sawyer about setting up a YouTube account and uploading some videos. It was the best test market around. Once Sawyer had some things out there, Dean could talk to the right people and ask them to share the videos on their social media. With some buzz, Dean could easily convince Landon to let him sign Sawyer to the label.

  It had been an emotionally draining day and getting some sleep seemed like the best medicine. Dean tried hard to keep his mind on Sawyer and where Grace Note could take his career. If only that other Stratton would stop finding a way into his thoughts...

  * * *

  “WHAT’S THIS?”

  “It’s your birthday present.”

  “My birthday is in October.”

  “I know—I’m early.”

  Faith stared at the box for a minute more before taking it from him and giving it a little shake. She needed to open it before Addison got off work and headed over to the farm to hang out.

  “Why do I feel like I’m going to open this and be disappointed by something gross?”

  She really had no idea. They had spent almost every day together for the last three weeks thanks to the summer job her father had given him at Helping Hooves. It had taken less than one week for Dean to confirm his feelings weren’t brotherly anymore.

  Winter break was when he’d first noticed. Gone was the silly little girl and in her place was this gorgeous and sweet young woman. When she had laughed, he couldn’t wait to hear it again. When she had sat next to him to watch a movie with Addison and innocently rested her head on his shoulder, his thoughts had been anything but pure.

  “It’s not gross. You’re going to like it,” he said. She narrowed her eyes and contemplated whether to trust him or not. “I promise.”

  She bit her bottom lip and his desire to kiss her grew. As she carefully peeled off the wrapping paper, he admired her self-control. Faith wasn’t like his sister, who would have torn it away with reckless abandon, letting it drop to the floor, discarded. Faith opened a gift like every part of it was special, even the paper it was wrapped in.

  “You better not be tricking me, Dean Francis Presley.”

  He didn’t even mind it when she used his middle name, a sure sign that things were different. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she had hay stuck to her T-shirt from helping him clean the horse stalls. He scooted a little closer to her on the bench where he had her sit to open her gift. Their legs touched ever so lightly, but it felt like a very big deal.

  “Hurry, open it.” Once Addison got there, the moment would be lost.

  Faith set the paper next to her on the bench. The skin on her neck was splotched red. Maybe he had the same effect on her that she had on him. This was bound to be embarrassing if she had no interest in him at all. She took the top off the box and pulled back the tissue paper.

  Her eyes lit up. “Are you serious?”

  He couldn’t help his cocky grin. “If you’re asking if they’re real, they’re real.”

  Faith lifted the concert tickets out of the box—the tickets to the show that was sold out. The show she wanted to go to more than anything in the whole world.

  “You got me and Addison tickets to Ryan King?”

  He knew that was what she’d think. Ryan King was the hottest pop star around. Dean would rather stab a fork in his ear than listen to him, but to watch Faith smile for two hours straight, he’d do just about anything.

  “They aren’t for you and Addison.”

  Her shoulders slumped and head tilted to the side. “I knew you were teasing me. I’m going to make Addison kick your butt for this.”

  Addison was going to want to kick his butt for an entirely different reason. Faith was her friend. Her best friend. Dean would have to convince Faith to keep this a secret. Maybe after the two girls spent a year apart while at different colleges, Addison would be more understanding, more willing to share Faith with him.

  “They’re for you and me,” he revealed, then waited for her reaction.

  “You?” One eyebrow raised in disbelief. “Okay, this has to be some kind of joke.”

  “I want to take you. I want to take you...on a date.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “Why?”

  There was no turning back now. He hoped she didn’t laugh at him when he confessed his true feelings.

  “Because I want to kiss you. I’ve been thinking about kissing you for a really long time.”

  The look of surprise on her face was expected. The kiss she planted on his lips was not. It was as if she had been waiting to kiss him for a thousand years and he had finally given her the permission she needed. It wasn’t rushed, not a quick thank-you-for-the-gift kind of kiss. This one made him wonder who she had kissed before and hope she would only be kissing him from now on.

  * * *

  “WHY SO GLUM, SIS? Sad you didn’t have the honor of washing Dean’s clothes this morning?”

  Faith rolled her eyes while refilling Winston’s water. If Sawyer wasn’t nice, she wasn’t going to make him breakfast when they finished their chores. “Are you going to trim Duchess’s and Winston’s hooves this morning?”

  “That’s on the agenda,” he replied, placing Sassy’s fresh hay net in her stall.

  The morning routine on a horse farm sometimes felt never-ending. It was the time of day Faith missed her dad the most. He used to talk to the horses, tell them jokes and sing them songs to start their day.

  The old horse barn had six horse stalls, feed storage and a large tack room that had a space for grooming. It was in good shape for its age. Their dad had been a stickler for keeping things tidy and fixing things when they needed fixing. A trait he had passed on to his children.

  “Uh-oh.” Sawyer stood in front of Duchess’s stall. She was the oldest horse on the farm at twenty-four. “She didn’t eat all her hay. Or drink her water.”

  “Take her temperature.” Duchess hadn’t been eating well for over a week. Not eating or drinking overnight meant she could be sick. Faith prayed that wasn’t the case.

  They had been watching Duchess. Besides not eating, she hadn’t been as social. Sawyer had noticed her wandering in circles and pressing her head against everything and anything. All of that could mean something major was wrong, but Faith was in denial. Duchess was probably depressed. Faith and Sawyer weren’t the only ones missing their dad.

  Faith finished feeding and watering the rest of the horses and, one by one, led them out to the larger paddock near the stables, where she gave them a quick brush-down.

  “Her temp is normal but at the high end,” Sawyer reported when Faith returned to the barn to check on Duchess.

  Faith stroked the horse’s forehead. “What’s the matter, Duch?”

  Duchess snorted and shook her head up and down. Faith tried to soothe her with kind words, but it didn’t help. If only horses could talk. Duchess was Faith’s favorite and she hated thinking the mare was in pain.

  “Let’s take her outside. Maybe she needs some space,” Sawyer suggested.

  Faith wanted to believe that would do the trick. Duchess gave her some trouble, though. She refused to follow commands, which was unlike her. Sawyer took the lead rope from his sister and got the horse to move out of the barn.

  Faith was frustrated with her inability to fix this. Their dad would have known what to do. He was a self-proclaimed horse whisperer. As much as she loved the horses, Faith hadn’t inherited that particular skill. She’d have to call the vet, even though money was tight; extra expenses would make things tough.

  “Come on,” Sawyer said. “We need to muck these stalls before the morning gets away from us.”

  “What would I do without you?” she asked, putting on her work gloves.

  “You’d
die of exhaustion because I do most of the work.”

  Faith used her stable fork to pick up a chunk of manure and tossed it at her brother. He dodged it with ease.

  “See, there you go, adding to my workload.”

  “Hilarious, little brother. You make a list of all the things you do and I’ll make a list of all the things I do, and we’ll compare. I think you’d see that we do a darn good job of splitting responsibilities down the middle.”

  They both got busy cleaning the stalls. The metal forks scraping the cement floors and the soft rustling of dry straw were the only sounds to be heard. Outside, as the morning sky brightened, the natural light cast a warmer glow than the fluorescents overhead.

  “Honestly, you could hire someone to do the stuff I do,” Sawyer said. “You’re the one this place couldn’t survive without.”

  Faith stopped what she was doing, breathing heavy from the physical exertion. She stepped out of Winston’s stall and joined Sawyer in Sassy’s. He was much farther along than she was—as usual.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Sawyer startled, unaware she had come up behind him. Jabbing the fork into the straw, he turned to her. “I’m just saying you’re the one with all the business sense and the one with the degree in occupational therapy. All I do is the heavy lifting.”

  “You do more than that,” she argued.

  He had put on a baseball cap instead of his cowboy hat this morning. It made him look younger. “Not really. I help with the horses. I do some maintenance work. I’m convenient but not irreplaceable.”

  “I need you, Sawyer. I could hire people to fix the fences or help me muck these stables, but I need you to keep me balanced, to remind me when I’m biting off more than I can chew. You’re the only one who can do that.”

  His lips curved into a small smile. “That’s true. You need all the help you can get when it comes to that. And I’d starve if I didn’t have you. Guess I need you, too.”

  Faith’s stomach growled; Sawyer wasn’t the only one who was working up an appetite. “Let’s finish up and I’ll make us some bacon pancakes for breakfast.”

  He got right back to work. “No one motivates me the way you do. You had me at bacon.”

  Back in Winston’s stall, Faith’s smile faded. There was an uneasy feeling she couldn’t shake, no matter what Sawyer had said about needing her. Truth was he didn’t need her half as much as she needed him.

  * * *

  “I WAITED FOR HER outside the school, but she never showed. She hasn’t answered any of my texts, which probably means she’s with him.” The sneer on Kylie’s freckled face made it clear how she felt about Lily’s boyfriend.

  Lily was late. Again. Faith stood on her wraparound front porch and checked her phone one more time to see if she had missed a call or text.

  No messages. No texts.

  Kylie wanted to believe the worst, but Faith was trying to give Lily the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she had to meet with a teacher after school and hadn’t turned on her phone yet.

  “What do you want me to do?” Sawyer asked.

  “We’ll have to ask Roseanne to be a side walker.” Faith didn’t see another alternative. She needed Kylie to clean out the paddocks because there wouldn’t be time for it tomorrow.

  They’d had parents participate in therapy sessions before. Roseanne’s daughter, Hayden, was autistic and had benefited greatly from the work she did at Helping Hooves to improve her trunk strength and social skills. She loved having her mom there, so including her shouldn’t cause too much of a problem like it could with kids who were less flexible thinkers.

  “Maybe Lily will get here before we go to the arena. Hayden can brush Sassy first.” Sawyer’s optimism was commendable. “I’ll get her ready in the tack room.”

  Faith contemplated calling Josie but didn’t want to get Lily in trouble...yet. This was between Faith and Lily. Getting Josie involved might backfire and Lily could quit. Helping Hooves needed all the volunteers it could get, and the teenagers in town were more interested in hanging out down by the lake than working for free at the horse farm.

  “They sneak around because she doesn’t want her mom to find out,” Kylie said. “I bet they’re in the woods behind the school.”

  She was probably right. Best friends just knew. Faith and Addison had always known what the other was up to, even when they weren’t together. Well, until Faith had snuck around with Dean.

  As if he’d heard her thinking about him, Dean pulled up in his mom’s bright yellow VW Beetle. Mrs. Presley had a deep affection for her car. There was always a fresh Gerbera daisy in the flower vase, and whenever there was the slightest bit of dirt, it got a wash. Mr. Presley was not allowed to drive it because he tended to roll stop signs and his wife was sure this was going to lead to a fender bender one of these days.

  Dressed in something other than the red shirt and jeans she’d seen him in the whole weekend, he stepped out of the car. Today he was sporting khaki cargo pants and a pale blue button-down shirt. His facial hair had been trimmed so it was more like a shadow than a beard. He took Faith’s breath away.

  “Is your brother around?”

  “You’re talking to me again?” She wasn’t going to lie—it hurt her feelings that he’d not only left the picnic without saying a word, but had called Sawyer, not her, to say he wasn’t coming back to the farm. After making such a big deal about not being able to stay with his parents, it stung that being around her was obviously worse.

  His chin dropped and his gaze fell to the ground. When he looked back up at her, there was genuine remorse there. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been intentionally not talking to you.”

  It sure felt that way. She didn’t have time to hash things out with him, though, because Hayden and her mom had arrived. Their white minivan pulled into the makeshift lot they had by the stables.

  “My brother and I have a client. If you want to talk to him, you’re going to have to volunteer.”

  “Volunteer?”

  “Kylie, run ahead and see if Sawyer needs anything.” Faith made her way down the porch steps and headed toward the stables, away from Dean.

  “Faith,” he called after her.

  “You heard me.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “You do remember how to lead a horse around the arena, don’t you?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  WHY DID SHE have to make everything so difficult?

  Dean begrudgingly followed Faith to the horse barn where she greeted a little girl and her mom. She went ahead and introduced Dean to them as one of the volunteers, even though he hadn’t agreed to anything. This was not the plan.

  “This is Hayden,” she said to Dean. “She just turned six. I heard you had a super-fun birthday party, Hayden. Your mom told me there were lots of cupcakes.”

  “Lily!” the girl shouted from behind her mother.

  “I know how much you love Lily. She’s going to be sad she missed you. Dean used to work here years ago, so don’t worry. He knows how to lead a horse better than anyone,” Faith said, giving him the most passive-aggressive smile he’d ever seen. She was daring him to say he couldn’t help.

  Hadn’t she learned during their mud wrestling match not to mess with him?

  “I’m an expert at leading people where I want them to go.”

  “Well, I can only speak to your expert walking skills,” Faith returned, that unpleasant smile still plastered on her face. “You walk away really well.”

  Dean’s shoulders tensed. She was pushing all the right buttons. His only defense was to shift the focus to someone else. “Do you have a favorite horse, Hayden?”

  Six-year-old Hayden refused to make eye contact. “Lily! Lily!”

  “Are you ready to see Sassy?” Faith asked, garnering a much more positive response
. Hayden took her hand and led the way to the tack room.

  Instead of leading, Dean followed. Again. Thankfully, Sawyer was in the barn, refilling hay nets with the redheaded teenager.

  “Look who’s back.” Sawyer took off his work gloves to shake hands. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to—”

  Faith cut in. “He’s volunteering. He’s going to fill in for Lily. Come on, Dean. You can help us with grooming.”

  “Is she always this bossy?”

  Sawyer snickered. “That’s nothing. If you want to see her get bossy, stay out here talking to me instead of doing what she says.”

  Dean considered being petulant. It was tempting, but in the end it seemed in his best interest to do this for her so she’d feel obligated to let him have a few minutes with Sawyer when they were done.

  * * *

  SOME THINGS WERE like riding a bike: easy to pick back up. Working in the arena with the horses was one of them. It had been a long time since Dean had heard the huffing of horses, the rattle of the harnesses, the clomps of hooves on the dirt.

  He held tight to the lead rope and guided Sassy around the obstacle course Faith had set up for Hayden. There were stops along the way that required the little girl to throw balls through hoops. Faith and Sawyer walked on either side of the horse, providing support and encouragement.

  “Last one, Hayden,” Faith said. “You can do it. Can you throw the blue ball through the hoop?” She offered her two balls, one blue and one orange.

  Dean stopped Sassy and gave her head a pat. “Good girl, Sassy. Did Faith give you that name?” he whispered. Wouldn’t that be the pot calling the kettle black?

  Tired after a full workout, Hayden’s behavior began to deteriorate. She purposely took the orange ball and threw it in the dirt. Maybe Hayden was the sassy one.

  Faith pushed. “Come on, Hayden. It looks like you’re getting frustrated. Back straight, head up. Blue ball through the hoop.”

  “One more ball and you’re all done,” Sawyer added. “Then you can feed Sassy a carrot.”

  Hayden lifted her head and focused on her posture. With a little encouragement, she reached up and tossed the ball through the hoop.