No Better Man (9 page)

“Come on, Buttercup.” She encouraged the horse with another prod to the ribs. Buttercup jerked her head and gave Avery what she swore was a dirty look, but picked up the pace until they’d caught up to Hooligan. Bryce peered over his shoulder. “Everything okay back there?”

She pasted on a smile. “Yeah. Of course. We’re great, aren’t we, Buttercup?” She reached down and patted her neck. “Best buddies.”

The horse tossed her head and snorted.

“Obviously.” He turned back around and prodded Hooligan up the trail.

Wait a minute. Was he laughing at her?

He was. He was laughing so hard his shoulders shook. Well, she’d show him. With another nudge of her heels, she attempted to remind Buttercup who was boss. Reluctantly, the horse followed Hooligan up a series of switchbacks.

They climbed higher, a strong wind biting at Avery’s cheeks. As they crested the rise, three mountains poked up over the distant horizon, their razor-sharp granite peaks dusted with a light powdery snow. Against their dark outline, the sky brightened into a flawless sea of sapphires, the sun glinting and sparkling with a priceless radiance. “Whoa. Whoa, girl,” she whispered, tugging Buttercup to a stop. The view was so perfect it looked like a postcard.

“It’s even better at the top.” Bryce’s comment startled her.

At some point, he’d stopped Hooligan to wait for her.

Their eyes locked and Avery’s heart felt light and free, like it might float away.
Say something.
She inhaled until her heart settled back into place. “Yeah. Wow.”
Lame.
That sounded so lame. She fluffed the reins until Buttercup stuttered up to Hooligan’s side and tried again. “It must’ve been amazing to grow up in a place like this.”

“It was.” He directed his gaze to the horizon and clipped his heels into Hooligan’s sides.

Buttercup lowered her head and clomped after Bryce’s horse. Avery blew out an exasperated sigh for both of them. Why did he do that? Constantly retreat from her, from a real conversation?

“Come on, Buttercup,” she muttered through clenched teeth. She wasn’t about to let him off that easy. The horse must’ve realized she meant business because her trusty steed chugged up to Hooligan’s side and fell in stride. She peered over at Bryce. “I can’t imagine that kind of childhood. I grew up in the city.”

“Huh.”

The half-hearted grunt only made her more determined. “Have you ever lived anywhere else?”

Eyes still focused on some unseen horizon, Bryce reached down and patted Hooligan’s neck. “Nah. I’ve traveled a lot. Lived in Boulder while I went to CU. But this has always been home.”

She took in the view again. With a vista like that, she couldn’t blame him for never leaving. “So what did you study? In school?”

“Business management.”

That made sense. Especially if he planned to run his grandparents’ ranch. She wanted to ask more questions, but Buttercup stumbled over a rock, knocking her off balance. She clamped her hands back to the saddle horn. “Whoa, girl.”

Bryce tugged the reins. “Easy, Hooligan.” Both horses slowed. “It gets steep up here. Hold on tight. She’ll work out her footing.”

Avery’s gaze lowered to the rocky, uneven ground beneath Buttercup’s hooves. She wanted to steer the horse like Bryce guided Hooligan, but she had no idea how. Not to mention…every time she looked down, a wave of dizziness crashed her focus. The ground seemed awfully far away. All it would take was one swift movement from Buttercup and she’d be back on a donut.

In front of her, Hooligan crisscrossed a path up the rutted incline.

Buttercup stumbled again, horseshoes clanging against rock. Avery squeezed tighter. Tried to keep the grimace off her face.

As soon as the road leveled, she prodded Buttercup back up to Hooligan’s side. “So after school, you came back here?”
And got married?
She didn’t have the guts to say it.

“Yeah. By that time, Gramps and Gran were ready to retire.” Maybe it was the vast openness surrounding them, or the fact that he seemed so comfortable on the horse, but something in his demeanor had changed. He looked at her more, and his words were less guarded.

“They took off to Florida and left it all to me.”

The horses snorted and chugged, pulling their way up another incline, but Buttercup fell behind again.
Lovely.
He’d finally started to tell her his story, and she couldn’t keep up with him.

“Okay, girl.” She rubbed a hand up and down the horse’s neck like she’d seen Bryce do. “Let’s get moving. Work with me here.” She squeezed Buttercup’s ribs with her heels.

The horse trotted up to Hooligan. They ambled side by side under a canopy of golden aspen leaves backlit by the sun. A breeze trembled through the trees, shimmering the leaves into a dance. Then the wind picked up and set them free. They fluttered down in a gentle rain.

“Wow,” she whispered, holding out her palm.

“We should keep going,” Bryce mumbled.

Avery closed her hand around an aspen leaf and studied him. Something haunted him. She knew because she’d mirrored that same look, hollow and unseeing. It was the look of a survivalist who’d drawn an invisible curtain over a deep pain.

Warmth webbed across her chest. She held tight to the reins though they were useless in her hands. What she really wanted to do was touch him, to ease the turmoil that crept into his eyes so often.

She wanted to set him free.

Except she knew from years of watching her father that Bryce would have to choose that path himself. It couldn’t be forced on him. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t make him a whole person again.

She had to do the only thing she could for him: help him start over. Give him the money he needed to make his dreams come true.

Horse hooves pounded through the quiet.
Clomp, clomp clomp.
Again, she eased Buttercup to Bryce’s side. “Hey. I know you’re sick of hearing me talk about our offer.”

He gave her a stern look of confirmation, which she ignored. She had to.

“But, Bryce, think of what—”

A siren sounded, loud and piercing.

Her phone!

Buttercup jolted to a stop. The horse stood eerily still for a minute, then staggered back, back, back.

Back?

The siren ringtone blared in a relentless screech.

Bryce jerked Hooligan to a stop and turned. “What the hell is that noise?”

“My phone. It’s in my backpack.” She tried to shimmy out of the straps but almost lost her balance and had to steady herself against the horse’s back.

After a pause, the siren wailed again.

Buttercup snorted. Her front hooves pawed the ground.

Avery jiggled the reins, like she was some small kitchen appliance that had quit working. “What’s up with her?”

“Shut that thing off!” Bryce eased Hooligan closer and reached out a hand. “Whoa. Whoa, girl.”

Buttercup continued her agitated dance.

Her heart plummeted. “What’s wrong with her? What’s going on?” Despite her best attempt to remain calm, her voice shrilled.

His lips tightened. “Take it easy. She’ll sense your fear.”

“Take it easy? That’d be a lot easier if she’d stand still!” She jerked back the reins.

Buttercup tossed her head and whinnied.

“Stop!” Bryce guided Hooligan toward them. “Easy, Buttercup. Easy.”

Despite his soothing tone, her heart raced. The
swoosh
pounded in her ears.

Deadly cold, she shivered, gripped the reins in tight fists. “Bryce…what should I—”

The phone went off again.

Buttercup reared up. Gravity yanked Avery back. She clawed at the saddle horn, but her sweat-caked palms slipped.

A violent lurch thrust her head forward. Buttercup launched into a canter.
Oh God, oh dear God!
She hunched over and squeezed her eyes shut. This was it. She was going to die. Bile rose in the back of her throat.

“Pull back! Pull back!” Somewhere behind her, another set of hooves pounded. “You have to pull back!”

She wrestled with the reins. “It’s not working!”

With massive thrusts, Buttercup arched her back. She popped out of the saddle, then hurled herself into the horse’s mane and threw her arms around Buttercup’s neck. Avery’s face collided with the back of the horse’s head. Something seared her forehead. The metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth.

“Damn it, Avery! Pull back!”

“I can’t!”
Oh, God! Please!

“Hold on! I’m coming!”

The horror continued—Buttercup chugging breaths through her nose. Hooves leaping and gnashing.
Hold on, just hold on.

“Get the reins!”

Where are they?
The world reeled out of control. Trees whizzed past. Colors blurred.

Another buck loosened her hands and propelled her into the air.

Flying…

Falling…

Thud!
Her body collided with the hard ground. Pain exploded in her head and the world went dim.

A
very!” Bryce hurled himself off Hooligan’s back and froze next to her sprawled body. The second he released the horse, Hooligan galloped away in the direction Buttercup had fled.

Adrenaline lit his skin on fire. The flames of fear roared through him and burned him up. “Shit. Oh, shit.” He hit his knees next to her. The back of her head was jammed against a rock. Blood and bruises stained her face. “Avery?” The rising tide of fear made him feel like he was drowning. “Can you hear me?”

Her chest rose and fell.

Breathing. Thank God she was breathing. “Avery.” He touched her forehead and flashbacked to the kiss, to how he’d cradled her cheeks in his hands. Painful breaths shot in and out of his lungs. “Open your eyes.” What if she didn’t? More flashbacks. The same ones that used to drive him straight to the bottle. Yvonne’s face. Blood. So much blood. His useless, helpless hands…

His body shuddered with an onslaught of panic that’d come in waves ever since the accident. He hunched over her and fought the encroaching dizziness, wrestled to get solid breaths. He couldn’t panic. She needed him.

A groan eased through her lips and lurched him into action.

He tore off the hem of his shirt and wadded it up, blotted the blood that oozed from a cut across her forehead. A good-sized bruise had already formed down her temple and around her eye. “Avery? Can you hear me?” His hands palpitated her arms, her legs. Didn’t look like anything was broken, but her head…

“Ow. Oh. Ow.” Her face scrunched in pain. Those glacial eyes fluttered open. She squinted up at him as if the light was too bright. “Bryce?”

Relief ached in his lungs. She knew his name. That was a good sign. “What hurts?” His hands hovered over her, no longer trembling but ready to help, ready to do whatever she needed him to do.

She pushed up on her elbows and looked around, eyes glassy as though she were dazed. “I have a headache.”

Ignoring the painful knot that had formed in his throat, he leaned over her and smoothed his hand down her hair. The blank look on her face gutted him.

“You’re okay,” he said, somehow harnessing a calm reassurance into his tone. She had to be okay. He had to make her okay. “Can you move your legs? Your arms?” Before they did anything else, he had to make sure she hadn’t injured her spine.

“Of course I can move my legs.” Looking at him like he’d lost it, she bent her knees, opened and closed her fists, wiggled her feet. “See?” she said. “Everything moves.”

The revelation lowered his pulse and pumped strength into his body. He leaned over her, keeping his eyes connected to hers, feeling that raw hunger she’d managed to let loose in him that night in his truck. “I’ll help you sit up. Slow and easy.” Sliding his arms around her, he gently lifted.

She grimaced. “Ow. My head…”

“You’ve got a bad cut,” he murmured. He wouldn’t mention the bruising. Internal bleeding? The acute possibilities reignited his internal firestorm. His hands shook. This was his fault. Avery was lying on the ground with a head injury because he’d agreed to take her riding when he could see full well she had no idea what she was doing…

Her hand lifted to shade her eyes from the sun. “What happened?”

Everything pulsed—the tips of his fingers, the vein in his neck, his temples. She didn’t remember. Not a good sign. She had to have a serious concussion, at the very least. He shifted and dug his phone out of his pocket, battling his body’s desire to hyperventilate, trying to stay in control. “Your phone spooked Buttercup. She threw you.”

“Right.” Her eyes squeezed shut. “So I guess it’s time for me to fess up that I actually don’t ride.”

He knew that. He knew and he’d let her anyway. “I’m sorry, Avery. I’m so sorry.”

She studied him, head tilted to the side, eyes probing his.

For once, he didn’t look away from her. He let his eyes make a promise. “I’m gonna get you help, okay? Everything’ll be fine.” Everything had to be fine. “I’ll call for help.”

“Help?” She grinned. “That’s
so
not necessary. I’m fine. Just get me some Advil and I’ll get right back on that horse.”

She’d obviously meant it as a joke, but he felt sick. “I’m calling an ambulance,” he informed her. “You were unconscious. God, Avery, you were lying there bleeding!”

She waved him off. “I probably just passed out from extreme fear.” Another easy laugh cranked his neck muscles tight. “Seriously, Bryce. I’m fine. You’re overreacting.”

Overreacting? Good God. He started to dial, but Avery grabbed for his phone. “Don’t call my father. Please.”

He tried to read the look on her face. Was it fear? “Why not?”

Her eyes closed. “Don’t call him. Please, Bryce. Don’t call him.”

He shifted to his knees. “Fine. I won’t.”
Yet.
“But I
am
calling an ambulance.” Because he wasn’t enough. He couldn’t protect her. Just like he hadn’t been able to protect his wife. His chest heaved, but he kept his eyes on Avery’s. Something about the way she looked at him—like she trusted him—clarified his thoughts, gave him the ammo he needed to fight the panic. He stroked her dirty face, felt the peaceful smoothness of her skin.

Her mouth opened.

“I have to make sure you’re okay,” he told her gently, then focused on his phone and dialed the numbers.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

Shaking her head, Avery huffed out an exasperated groan.

He ignored her. “This is Bryce Walker. I’m up at Walker Mountain Ranch Road, near the intersection with Valley View. My friend got thrown off a horse. Looks like a head injury.”

He fired off answers to the dispatcher’s questions as quickly as he could. When he finally hung up, Avery was curled up against him, snoring softly.

Damn it.
“Avery?” He patted her cheek. “You have to wake up now. You have to stay awake.”

Her eyes opened halfway. “Jeez, Bryce. I’m just tired,” she grumbled. Blood had crusted over the cut across her forehead and smudged down the side of her face. Even with the attitude, somehow her looks still managed to stun him. She was appealing without even trying to be.

“We have to get down to the road. The ambulance will meet us there.”

“Fine.” She shot him an irritated glare. “But they’re going to take one look at me and tell you I’m as healthy as a horse.” Laughing at her own joke, she scrambled to her feet.

“Hey, wait. Take it easy.” He reached out to steady her, but she swayed.

Her hands cradled her head, and she groaned in frustration.

“You’re not walking.” He picked up her backpack and slipped it on, then darted in front of her and swept her into his arms
Gone With the Wind
–style.

She yelped in his ear. “Put me down!” Her legs swung. “Damn it, Bryce. Stop freaking out!”

“We can’t take any chances with a head injury.” He knew that too well, and he wasn’t about to risk making it worse. With slow steps, he started the painstaking journey down the slope.

Avery crossed her arms over her chest and scowled like a pouting preteen. “This is ridiculous. I am perfectly capable of walking down to the road.”

Blood surged through his arms. He tightened his hold on her. “Capable or not, I’m carrying you. So you might as well shut the hell up and let me take care of you.”

Her head tilted and she studied his face.

For the first time, he noticed the flecks of gray in her eyes, a faint constellation of freckles across her nose, the curve of her high cheekbones. Man, she was gorgeous.

“Why did you kiss me, Bryce?” she demanded.

He glared past her, dodging the fallen trees and rocks that littered the ground.

Avery slipped her hand under his chin and forced his eyes back to hers. “Was it because you wanted to get rid of me? Scare me away?”

He stopped.
Yes.
He should tell her yes. It had meant nothing. It was all part of his plan to run her off. Except that would be a lie. The way his heart thundered with her in his arms only proved that he’d kissed her because he had to. He couldn’t stop himself. He loved her fire, her warmth, her easy laugh. Why was it so hard to tell her the truth?

“Don’t get me wrong.” She smirked at him. “I’m not complaining or anything. I just want to know why.”

And there it was again, that overwhelming desire to touch her, to fit his lips against hers. Inhaling courage, he traced her cheek with his thumb and smiled. “I kissed you because you made me feel something I haven’t felt in a long time.” In an eternity.

Instead of smiling back, her face paled. “Bryce?” It was barely a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t feel so good,” she whimpered.

Shit.
He started moving again, slow and easy, trying not to jostle her around too much. “Okay, honey,” he soothed. “You’ll be okay. We’re almost there.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Don’t worry about that.” It didn’t matter if she threw up all over him. He couldn’t stop. They couldn’t let the head injury gain momentum. “I’ll take care of you, Avery. I swear.” He’d do his best.

 A small smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “You’re not as mean as you want everyone to think, are you?”

A warm flush crept up his neck. “And you’re not as tough.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then wrapped an arm around her middle.

“Almost there,” he breathed into her ear. Holding her tighter against him, he jogged down the last incline. “Stay awake, Avery,” he reminded her.

“I’m awake,” she whispered. But she obviously wasn’t feeling well.

“Don’t make me kiss you right now. Because I will,” he said, voice hoarse with fear. Yvonne had fallen asleep and she’d never woken up…

The shards of sorrow and regret and guilt sliced through him again. He’d give anything to go back. He could’ve gotten her out faster, could’ve saved her if only he’d known…

“You can kiss me anytime you want,” Avery murmured with a lopsided smile. “You’re pretty good at it, you know.”

If his blood wasn’t pumping so hard, he would’ve laughed. She was good at that. Making him smile, laugh. It’d been a long time since he’d felt like laughing.

They broke through the trees into the clearing.

“Thank you.” Her breath wisped against his neck. “For carrying me.”

Still holding her against him, he kneeled to wait for the ambulance and pulled her closer, stroking her silky hair, feeling this overpowering urge to help her, to ease her pain, to save her the way he hadn’t been able to save Yvonne. The emotions had been buried so deep for so long. They were raw and painful—but holding her so close, feeling her warm body in his arms, fighting for someone else again…it brought him back to life. “Thank you,” he whispered over her, “for waking me up.”

She’d managed to break through every wall he’d built since Yvonne’s death, and he wouldn’t be able to ignore her.

Not anymore.

Sirens. Loud. Piercingly loud. Avery stuffed her hands over her ears.
Ohhhh. Ow…
Nausea spun the sky into blue swirls.
No. No.—

She tore herself away from Bryce and hunched over on her knees in time to throw up all over a mound of innocent purple and white columbines.

Warmth radiated into her back. Bryce’s hand slowly massaged her shoulders. “Hang in there.”

She wanted to turn and smile at him, or at least mumble thanks, but her body had a different agenda.

Bryce gathered her hair in a ponytail and held it away from her face. His hand drew concentric circles in the middle of her back. “Want water or something?”

It wasn’t safe to open her mouth and speak. Instead, she shook her head and shifted so she could sink against him. Her eyelids felt like lead. She closed them. For a minute. Only for a minute…

“Avery!” Bryce rubbed her cheek. “Come on. They’re here.”

She forced up the steel curtains over her eyes. On the shoulder of the dirt road, a police car skidded to a stop. Red and blue lights gyrated across everything like strobe lights.

“Here we go.” Bryce steadied her while he scrambled off the ground. Then he slid his arms around her and pulled her to her feet. Everything swayed—the trees, the ground. “Ugh.” Gravity threatened to take her down. She clawed at him, clutched his bicep.

His arms enclosed her. “I’ve got you.” He breathed the words close to her ear.

Wrapped tightly in his strong arms, inhaling his pine scent, her whole body relaxed. She let him lead her closer to the lights.

“Bryce!” A policeman approached them and she blinked hard because he looked so much like Bryce—tall and sturdy, shorter dark hair, walnut-shaped eyes…

Wait a minute. She’d met him at the game. He was Bryce’s cousin. What was his name, again? Sam? Seth? Skyler?

“What the hell happened?” He bent to examine her face.

“Her phone went off and spooked Buttercup.” Bryce’s words were rough and winded.

She slipped her hand into his and squeezed because she didn’t want him to be afraid. She hadn’t meant to scare him like that. Not after everything he’d been through.

“I’ll be fine,” she murmured.

“EMTs are on the way. They’ll be here any minute,” Bryce’s cousin said, with a worried glance at her face.

She must look worse than she thought.

Bryce kept his arms around her, but he leaned over and said something to his officer. Cousin. His cousin. Skyler.
Whoa
…the world moved in shimmering waves. She fought against the dizziness so she could hear what they were saying, but the conversation only came in snippets.

“Unconscious.”

“How long?”

She couldn’t make out Bryce’s response.

Officer Skyler ran to his car and leaned in through the open window. He yelled something into the crackling radio, then jogged back. “ETA is two minutes.”

“Thanks, Sawyer,” Bryce breathed.

Sawyer! Not Skyler. Sawyer
.

“Hang on, Avery,” Sawyer said, rubbing a sympathetic hand up and down her arm. “They’re almost here.”

Aww.
He was so nice. Like Bryce. Must run in Elsie’s family blood. “Thanks for—” She clamped her mouth shut before another wave of nausea targeted Bryce’s cousin. Probably shouldn’t throw up all over his crisp, blue uniform.