Serenity Falls (14 page)

“I
know this doesn’t make up for the years of pain that you’ve suffered, because I
have no idea what it is like to lose my parents, but I am so sorry you had to
go through that. I won’t push you to talk to me about it, but I am here for you
if you ever want to,” Wes whispers against my hair as he kisses the back of my
head.

“This
is going to be too hard for me.” My voice comes just above a whisper.

“You
might be able to help this little girl, Kenleigh.”

“How?
How do you know that? You just saw what happened to me down there. The memory
of what happened to my family is not something I like to relive, Wes.”

“I
don’t know how. But, I think with the both of you sharing something so
personal, so similar, maybe you can help each other.”

I
turn over in his arm and hug him to me. Silently, we just lay there and hold
each other. I let his words sink in. Maybe he is right. Maybe I can help her,
and she can help me. The more I think about it, the more comforting the idea
becomes. “Are you ready to go back downstairs?” he asks.

I
take a deep breath before I answer. “Yeah. I’m sure everyone is wondering what
the hell just happened to me.”

“Look
at me please?” I lift my face to him and stare into his breathtakingly
beautiful eyes. “Listen to me. You
do not
owe
anyone
an
explanation.” His tone is soft. The corners of my lips tug into a slight grin
as I nod. “Good. Now show me a genuine smile.”

With
the heaviness of what’s just happened drifting away, my eyes cross, and a wide
smile showing the majority of my teeth spreads across my face.

A
boisterous laugh erupts from Wes. “Smartass.” He laughs and slaps my ass.

Immediately,
my funny face drops, and I smile a legitimate smile and revel in his good
humor. “Thank you,” I murmur.

“I
told you before, and I’ll tell you again and again until you realize it, I will
always
catch you.” His eyes are soft and genuine, and in this moment, I
can feel myself
really
falling for him. My hands glide up his solid
arms, wrapping around his neck. Slowly, I pull his mouth down to mine and
capture his lips. Neither one of us deepens the kiss. We don’t need to. His
lips caress mine in a tender and soft, but at the same time, powerful way. It’s
beyond perfect.

Stepping
outside onto the back porch, I search the grounds for Mrs. Sandy. Wes held my
hand as we walked down the stairs, and squeezed it reassuringly. He knew when
we left the room that I still wasn’t one hundred percent better, but I pulled
strength from his comfort. Just as we hit the bottom of the stairs, he pulled
me into one last hug before releasing me. I’m certain Mrs. Sandy has her
suspicions, but we’ve never confirmed anything to her. Although Wes and I slept
together this past Friday night, we never discussed what that entailed for our
relationship, or if there is one.

Finally,
I spot her by the barn, and wave in hopes that I’ll catch her attention. I run
down the steps and across the yard to where she stands next to a young girl
with long, wavy, auburn locks. I come to a stop right behind the girl when Mrs.
Sandy says, “Oh, hey, Kenleigh. I want you to meet someone.” She puts her hand
on the girl’s shoulder and introduces us. “This is Bailey.” Cautiously, the
girl turns around.

Big,
blue eyes meet mine. The empty, hollow look is one I’m all too familiar with. A
pang of hurt stings my heart when I realize that I can relate to this girl. I
know what she’s been through—what she’s still going through. Bailey’s dark
green T-shirt and denim jeans hang off her frail, pale frame. It’s as if I’m
looking in a mirror, but instead of seeing my nineteen-year-old self, I see my
old twelve-year-old self all over again. The only thing that separates us is
the color of our hair.

It’s
a flashback of me when I walked into school on the first day of my eighth grade
year. My clothes were two sizes too big. Everyone stared at me. I had even
heard rumors that people thought I had an eating disorder. I didn’t care what
they had to say; I let them believe whatever they wanted. My appetite was
nonexistent after the death of my mom and dad. The only reason I ate was to
appease my aunt. With a slight shake of my head, I banish those thoughts. I’m
not twelve anymore. I have come too far, and I refuse to fall back into that
crippling depression.

“Hey
Bailey. I’m Kenleigh.”

“Hi,”
she whispers as she casts her eyes toward the ground.

“Are
you excited about these next two weeks?”

She
doesn’t answer; instead, she shakes her head. I can remember feeling that way
when I went to my first horse ranch, too.

“Bailey
here has never ridden before,” Mrs. Sandy says, interrupting my thoughts.

“Oh.”
I look up at Mrs. Sandy as she points her head toward the barn.

“You
wanna come with me?” I ask Bailey as I put my hand on her shoulder.

She
lifts her head and looks at me. “Where?”

“To
the barn. I have something I’d like to show you.”

Her
blue eyes slide from me to the barn and back to me as she sighs with
reluctance. “Okay.”

I
turn to Mrs. Sandy and flash her a smile as I lead Bailey off to the barn.

Volunteers
and their assigned kids bustle all around the wooden structure. Voices and
laughter fill the air. Jackie’s long blonde hair is high on her head ponytail
that sways back and forth from the breeze sweeping through the barn. A boy, who
looks like he’s probably between the ages of nine and ten, stands next to her
with a pole in one hand and a brush in the other. He strokes the brush along
one of the horses’ coats and talks animatedly with Jackie.

Across
from Jackie, Liam is kneeling next to a blond haired, young boy in a wheelchair
in front of another stall. Liam points to one of the horses, and the young boy
laughs. Sarah stands a ways down, her hand wrapped around a little girl with
short, almost black hair. With her empty hand, Sarah eases her into petting the
painted horse’s mane. Brantley’s gray eyes sparkle as he carries a bale of hay
into Autumn’s stall and he smiles at some of the kids as they chase each other
around. “You comin’ in here?” he asks me.

“Yeah.
Bailey, this is Brantley.”

Brantley
sets down the bale of hay in the corner of the stall. He pulls a glove off his
hand, and sticks it out to shake hers.

Bailey
places her dainty hand in his. “Hello.”

He
smiles warmly at her. “It’s nice to meet you Bailey.” He turns his attention to
me and adds, “I better go. I have like five more of these to get out of the
truck.” He points at the bale of hay. “I’ll see you later, right?”

“Of
course,” I say as he walks out of the stall.

“Why
is this horse so fat?” Bailey asks with her eyebrows raised.

I
laugh. “First of all,
her
name is Autumn, and she’s pregnant.”

“Oh.
Explains a lot, I guess.” Bailey’s eyes rake over the stall with her lip curled
up in disgust.

“Did
you not wanna come here? To the ranch, I mean.” I walk up to Autumn and pet her
muzzle.

“Why
do you care?” Bailey snaps.

I
ignore her tone. I get it. She’s still hurting, and if her taking it out on me
is what she needs, then I’ll deal with it for her. Autumn’s eyes find mine when
I reply softly, “You and I have more in common than you think, Bailey.”

“Why?
Did your brother die too?” Her tone is sharp, and I can’t help but feel sorry
for her.

I
turn my gaze to hers. “No. My parents did.”

The
past two days have been going great. Monday was a little rough with Bailey. If
she wasn’t being quiet and standoffish, she had an attitude in just about
everything she did. I’m not one to judge her though; I’ve been in her shoes. I
remember how I used to snap at people, too, especially when I heard the words
‘I’m sorry’. Those two words don’t bring back someone you love. After the kids
left Monday evening, we all met and discussed how the day had gone. Mrs. Sandy
and Mr. Will said, with much enthusiasm, that the day had gone off with a bang.
We went over Tuesday’s itinerary, and they complimented everyone on a job well
done. Later that night, as I was getting ready for bed, Wes snuck into my room
to check up on me. After my little episode that morning, we hadn’t seen each
other for most of the day, and he wanted to know if I was all right. He
wondered how my day had gone with Bailey. I just shrugged my shoulders and then
went on to explain her reaction of having to come to the ranch, and how I
understood why she felt the way she did. In a way, I think he did too.

On
Tuesday, Bailey showed up in better spirits. I’m not sure why, but I wasn’t
going to complain. She seemed more interested in the horses and the different
breeds they were. We had pulled a couple of them out of their stalls to walk
around in the pasture. She wanted to ride one, but I explained that she needed
to get more comfortable around them first. Earlier in the day, I offered her a
carrot and asked if she wanted to feed Autumn. At first, she was hesitant and
said that Autumn’s ‘huge teeth’, her words not mine, scared her. But after I
told her, and with a lot of encouragement, that everything would be fine, she
finally fed the beautiful brown and white Appaloosa. That was the first smile I
had seen on her, and I was hoping to bring more to her young, delicate face.

With
the week almost halfway over, I wash my plate from breakfast and make my way
outside. The Texas heat hits me full force as I step onto the porch. Just as I
was finishing my breakfast, Mrs. Sandy told me that Bailey would arrive any
minute. I look all around before I finally spot her. A smile splays across my
face when I see her talking to John, Liam’s assigned child. But what makes my
smile widen is whose hands are on the back of his wheelchair. Wes.

I
walk over to them. My heart beats faster when he looks up, and our eyes catch.
He stands there in a pair of blue jeans and a black T-shirt that fits snug
across his chest. I want so badly to reach out and touch him, but I won’t. We
haven’t seen near enough of each other since camp started. As I approach
Bailey, John, and Wes, broad smiles from all three greet me.

“Where’s
Liam?” I ask.

“He
needed to help Sarah with something in the barn, so I offered to take John to
the corral,” Wes replies as he flashes me his award-winning smile.

“Yeah.
I was talking to Wes about helping me soup up my wheelchair later. What do you
think, Bailey? We were talking about painting some flames on the back, you
know, since I’m a speed racer in this thing,” John says, laughing. I laugh,
too. It’s impossible not to. Even though he was diagnosed with Duchenne
Muscular Dystrophy at the age of four, he’s gone through lots of therapy, and
seven years later, he is still full of so much joy.

I
watch the smile on Bailey’s face as she nods her approval. “I like that idea.
Do you think I could help?” She looks between Wes and John.

When
I was finally able to meet Liam, Sarah, and Jackie’s kids on Monday afternoon,
I made sure to introduce Bailey. At first, she just stood there with her head
hung down, not saying a word. But John was relentless and eventually got her to
open up. “Heck, yeah. Wait, can you paint flames?” Wes asks, his eyebrows
raised in Bailey’s direction.

“Of
course, I can. Art was always my favorite subject. I drew and painted all the
time. One time, I entered this contest for my county. Whoever won first place
was able to have their work displayed in the town hall.”

My
heart swells at the fact that she is opening up. I know this is not easy for
her, but I like it.

“I
drew this picture of my brother at one of his football games. He was standing
on the field next to the ref, waiting for the coin to be tossed. I was always
so proud of him. He always had this look on his face while he waited to see
what fate the coin would produce. He cradled his helmet tightly under his arm.
I just knew I had to get the image down on paper.” The look on her face is the
one a little girl who adored her big brother.

Wes
squeezes the top of John’s shoulder. “Okay. I think since Bailey here seems to
be a pro in the art world, and I can’t draw for shi—nothing, she should help
you.”

“You
don’t wanna help?” Confused, John looks up over his shoulder at Wes.

“I
do, but I don’t want to mess up your wheels man. You don’t wanna be cruising
around in this thing with what I think looks like flames, but actually look
like ribbons, do you?”

John’s
eyebrows dip in concentration, before his face lights up with a wide smile.
“No. You’re right. Plus, I can’t pick up girls if I have ribbons running along
the sides and back of my wheelchair.”

Wes
lets out a boisterous laugh. “Girls? Dude, girls are trouble.”

“Maybe.
But I still like ‘em.” John shrugs his shoulders.

With
a smile, I shake my head at the conversation between Wes and John. “Do you mind
if I help John?” Bailey asks me.

“No.
That’s fine.”

“Thanks.
I’m just gonna take John over to the arts and crafts area,” Bailey says as Wes
slides over for her to take his spot behind John.

“Sounds
good. I’ll come find you guys in a bit.” With that, Bailey wheels John away.

My
eyes turn to Wes. I cross my arms over my chest as I try to conceal my smile
and give him a pointed look. “Girls are trouble, huh?”

His
eyes take me in, scanning my body from head to toe. In a pair of khaki shorts,
a red tank top, white sneakers, hair pulled back into a bun, and no makeup, he
still makes me feel like I’m irresistible to him. “Oh, yeah, definitely
trouble.” He cocks his head toward the barn. “Come with me?”

With
a nod, I follow him. We walk side by side into the empty barn. There are no
people milling around; most of the horses are gone, from what I can see.
Without warning, he yanks me sideways into an empty stall, and I stumble over
my own two feet before my back collides with rough wood. “What the—” I gasp
out. But before I can comprehend what just happened, Wes’ lips crash down on
mine.

My
mind goes blank. The only thing that consumes my thoughts right now is our
mouths devouring each other. My hands glide up his chest, feeling each and
every ripple of muscle under his shirt, over his shoulders, around his neck,
and into his hair, I hold him to me. His solid, hard, unyielding body presses
into mine as a deep groan escapes him. His strong hands find my backside. He
palms my ass as he lifts me off the ground. My legs wrap around his narrow hips
as he presses me harder into the wall behind me. Lost in the moment, I flick my
tongue against his upper lip, begging for entrance into his mouth.

This
kiss is one of desperation. Our tongues mold, glide, fold, and eventually fade
into one as we seek and memorize every inch of each other’s mouths. I speak
around our frantic lips. “I’ve… missed… you.”

“God…
I need you, Kenleigh,” Wes mumbles against my jaw as he begins to trail
open-mouthed kisses further down onto my neck.

As
my back arches into him, he presses his groin into me and makes contact with
the one spot that aches for his attention. “Wes.” When I gasp his name from the
sensation, he roughly squeezes my ass.

“That’s
right, Baby. I’m the one who does this to you. Only me. It will only ever be
me,” he whispers against my ear as he grinds against me harder.

Although
my body is on fire from his touch, it feels like someone is watching us. As I
become more aware of our surroundings, I tap him on the shoulder; all the
while, his lips continue their terrific assault along the slope of my neck.
“Wes. Wes,” I whisper, as I try to get his attention.

“Hmm…
I love when you say my name,” he murmurs against my neck.

I
playfully slap him on the shoulder and giggle. Finally, I get his attention
when his eyes meet mine. “Someone’s in here,” I say quietly.

I’m
still pinned against the wall as he peers out into the breezeway of the barn.
Wes looks from left to right and back before he turns his attention back to me.
“Babe, there’s no one in here. At least, not that I can see.”

I
push back against his shoulders. Grudgingly, he sets me on my feet. “I’m
telling you, it felt like someone was watching us. I could feel it. Anyhow, I
think if we continue to carry on like that, we may have a repeat of Friday
night, and right now is not the time or the place for that.” I lace my arms
around his neck.

He
grabs a hold of my hips and pulls my body flush against his. The evidence
that’s pressed against my stomach tells me he thinks right now is the perfect
time and place. Wes leans down and lightly kisses the shell of my ear before he
whispers, “Okay. But just know this. This weekend, you’re mine.”

My
eyes roll into the back of my head, and my body shudders at the heat of his
breath against my sensitive flesh, and his whispered words of spoken promises.
I take a deep breath and try to regain my composure. I step out of his embrace,
lean in, and tenderly peck his lips one last time. “All right, cowboy. We
better go before people start looking for us.”

After
leaving Wes, I make myself a glass of iced tea. Right after our extremely
heated moment in the barn, I needed something to cool me down quick. I wait for
about ten minutes before I go back in and saddle up two horses. With the reigns
in one hand and helmets in the other, we set off to find Bailey and John. The
horses follow behind me as I lead them over to the arts and crafts area. From a
short distance, I see John’s wheelchair. Flames sprawl out against the leather
material in all different directions. Red, orange, and yellow hues pop out
against the black background. As I approach, the sound of their laughter brings
a smile to my face. When I clear my throat, their heads snap to me. “If you’re
almost done, Bailey, I thought we could go for a ride.” I lift the reigns with
a shrug of my shoulders. “I mean, that’s if it’s all right with you, John?” My
eyes meet his.

“Yeah.
Sure. Liam should be back any minute. He just went to get me something to
drink,” John replies.

“Bailey?”
Silently, my eyes plead with her to come with me.

“Why
not? I’m done anyway.” She gets up off the ground.

“We’ll
see you later?” I shoot a wink at John.

“Yep.”
He nods with a smile.

“Follow
me this way. I’ll help you get on her once we get closer to the barn,” I say as
I lead the horses and Bailey away.

I
gently tug on the reins to halt the horses and come to a stop. “Right here.
This should be fine.” I look around to make sure we have plenty of space so
that I can help Bailey up onto the horse. “All right. Come on over here.” I
drop the reins to my horse. “So, you’re gonna put your left foot in this
stirrup here, and grab onto the horn of the saddle. Once you feel like your
footing is good, I’ll help lift you while you swing your right leg over the
horse.”