Serenity Falls (15 page)

“Do
I really have to ride the horse?” She whines.

“No.
You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, but I want to take you
somewhere. It would be a lot faster if we rode instead of walked.” I hand over
the helmet to her. “Put this on, please?”

“Really?”

“Just
humor me.” I tilt my head to the side as she snatches the helmet from my hand.

Bailey’s
movements are slow with trepidation as she approaches the horse. “There’s
nothing to be nervous about. I’m going to be with you the whole time. I
promise.”

With
a slight smile, she nods. She does exactly as I instructed. She places her left
foot in the stirrup and her hand grips the horn. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

I
grab onto her waist and hoist her up, she pushes with her left foot, and at the
same time, she swings her leg over the saddle. “Good. Now, scoot up a little to
where you fit in the saddle as comfortable as possible.”

“This
is really high up,” she says as she adjusts in her seat.

“It
is. But you’ve already done the hard part. Now, I’m going to hand you the
reigns. Do you remember what we talked about yesterday? Just let them hang
loose, not too much tension, and she’ll hold steady for you.”

As
soon as I hand her the reigns, I walk over to my own horse and successfully
make it onto my own saddle. “All right, go ahead and hand me the reigns, and
we’ll get going. Just hold onto the horn and enjoy the ride.” I turn to her
with a smile and see that she’s completely enamored with her horse as she leans
forward to pet her horse’s neck.

I
squeeze my thighs and click my tongue to get my horse going. She sets off into
a slow and steady pace. As we walk out into the pasture, my eyes slide over to
see Bailey looking all around us. I know she’s nervous. Her back sits up
straight, and her arms are stiff and locked, but the white-knuckled grip she has
on the horn of the saddle is a dead giveaway. Yesterday, she made it a point to
reiterate over and over again that she’s never ridden a horse before. “See.
This isn’t so bad, is it?”

Bailey
shrugs her shoulders. “I guess not.”

“Then
why are you gripping the horn of the saddle so hard?” I flick my eyes between
her and her hands, and a little laugh bubbles up from inside me.

She
chuckles at my response. I guess she didn’t think that I’d catch how nervous
she seems. “I’m still a little nervous.”

I
nod, accepting her answer. We ride in comfortable silence for a little while
before I see our destination up ahead. “Where are we going?” Bailey asks,
breaking the silence.

“Right
over there.” I nod to where a tall, oak tree stands. A tire swing hangs like a
pendulum from its outstretched limbs. The dark green leaves sway in the wind
and the branches move back and forth with fluidity. I know it’s the same one
that Wes’ parents used to take their picture in front of. Instead, this time,
it’s not a normal swing but a tire swing. As we grow closer, the black rubber
looks slightly worn and faded from the hot Texas sun.

When
I pull back on the reigns, the horses come to a stop next to an adjacent tree.
I hop off my horse and tie both horses’ reigns to a branch. Once secured, I
walk over to Bailey and help her to dismount.

“Come
on.”

Her
eyes go wide, and her jaw drops as I point to the tire swing. She looks at me
in an ‘are-you-serious’ expression as she shakes her head adamantly. “No way.
I’m not sitting on that thing. It looks like it’s about to give at any time.”

“I
promise you. It’s fine. There aren’t any tears in it, and the rope still looks
to be in good condition,” I reply as I inspect the condition of the tire and
rope for good measure. I give the tire a little shove to show her just how safe
it is. “I know you wanna have a little fun.” I goad her with a smile as I try
to tempt her to get on the tire swing.

I
walk away from the tire swing and over to Bailey when I realize she is not
going to budge. Without thinking, I reach for her hand and grab it in mine. I pull
her over to the creek’s edge. “Sit.” My tone is stern as I point to the grass
before I release her hand. She stands there for a minute, contemplating whether
to sit, before she does so grudgingly. I take a seat next to her and draw my
knees up to my chest. I wrap my arms around legs and rest my head on my knees
as I stare out at the creek below. “I thought I saw you having fun with John
earlier?”

Minutes
tick by as I wait for Bailey to reply to me. Her voice is soft with a slight
tremble to it when she decides to answer. “I was, and now I feel bad about it.”

“You
know you don’t have to feel bad.”

“You
think I don’t know that. I don’t want to have fun. I only
want
my
brother, my best friend, back. I don’t want to feel like I’m forgetting him.”
Pain is evident in her tone, and I can’t help but think how I used to be the
same way.

“I
know you’re angry.”

“No,
I’m not,” she retorts.

“Okay.
Maybe. Maybe not. But I know I was mad when my parents died. ”

Bailey
picks up a rock and throws it out into the trickling water before she turns to
look at me. “You think you know me now?”

“No.
I know what you’re going through, though. When my parents died, I was angry for
a long time. After the anger subsided, then I was sad and broken for even
longer.”

She
turns her attention from me back to the creek. “What happened to them?”

“A
fire. I was angry at the fire department for not getting there in time. I was
angry with God for taking them from me. I was angry with the neighbors for
holding me back. Maybe if they had let me go, I could have caught my dad. I
might have been able to save his life. But mostly I was angry at myself…” I
say, trailing off.

“Why?
Did you start the fire?” she asks.

“No.
My mom was already outside when my dad came back into the house for me. I
didn’t know what was going on at first. I was scared… really scared. I did
not
want to climb out the window, and argued with my dad about it. I can only
assume that, because it was taking us so long, that was the reason my mom went
back in the house.” I take a deep breath and beg myself not to break down. “My
dad and I finally made it out, only to find that my mother had gone back in
after us.” My pleas echo in my ears as I recall how I screamed for him not to
leave me. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut as I try to repress the memories. “He
went back in after her and neither one of them ever came back out.” Pain spears
my heart as I remember that fateful night that changed my life. The tears spill
over and glide down my face as my body convulses from my silent sobs.

We
sit there on the soft grass for a while, neither of us saying a word. The
sounds of the water below washing over the rocks and lapping against the
creek’s edge surround us. I run my fingers through the soft blades of the
grass; the sensation calms my thoughts. Bailey’s soft voice breaks through the
silence and pulls me back to the present.

“Trent,
my brother, was hit by a drunk driver. We both were.” I have my eyes trained
solely on her. She’s looking out at the water, her face impassive. “My mom and
dad had gone out to do some shopping. They were taking forever, so I literally
begged my brother to take me to get some ice cream. He kept telling me no, but
I knew how to get him to do almost anything I wanted.” A ghost of a smile
appears on her face. As fast as it appears, it’s gone.

“Trent
kept saying ‘
No Bailey. I can’t take you. I have homework. You have homework
,’
but I was already done, and I pointed that out to him. ‘
Come on Bailey, I
really don’t want to go anywhere. Why don’t you just wait until Mom gets here
and have her take you?
’” she says using a deep male voice, mimicking her
brother.

“Then
I turned on the charm, and he fell for it hook-line-and-sinker. ‘
Why would I
want Mom to take me? I have the most awesome big brother in the world. Plus, I
don’t wanna ride in Mom’s van. It’ll cramp my style.
’ He laughed when I
said that.”

“‘
What
style? You’re twelve
.’”

“‘
First
off, I have a style, and it screams my brother’s brand new Camaro. And
secondly, if I run into anyone from school and they see me in the
van,
it’ll be talked about for ages. My friends will disown me. No one will ever
want to talk to me again. I’ll go into high school known as the girl whose Mom
drives a tie-dyed van.’”

“When
I threw my arms up over my head and looked at him with a why-isn’t-this-obvious-to-you-look,
he finally agreed.
‘Okay, I see your point.’”

The
corners of my lips pull up as I sit here completely enraptured in Bailey
memories of her brother.

“Finally,
we left. Trent and I were in the car, jamming out to Green Day. We were stopped
at a red light. He drummed his hands against the steering wheel like a drummer,
banging his head back and forth, while I played the air guitar. The whole time
we were laughing hysterically,” she says with a wistful smile. “He had just
pressed on the gas when, all of a sudden, my body was thrown into the passenger
door, and my head slammed against the window. I screamed.
‘Trent! Trent!
Help me!’”

“‘
Hold
on Bailey! Hold on!’ He screamed.
The sounds of glass shattering blended
with our screams. I don’t know how long we slid across the street before the
car rolled and tumbled down an embankment into a shallow creek. We never even
saw it coming,” she whispers.

I
scoot over next to Bailey and wrap my arms around her. Her fragile frame
shudders underneath my hold as she cries. “When I realized it was finally over,
we were both hanging upside down. Our seat belts were the only things that held
us in place. My whole body ached, throbbed, and screamed in pain, but it all
seemed to vanish when I looked over and saw my brother. Blood trailed down his
face and dripped onto the roof of the car. His eyes were closed, and I didn’t
know what to think. I sat there, frozen in shock and horror. I had no clue what
to do. Finally, I whispered his name. ‘
Trent? Trent? Trent, wake up.’
He
didn’t move, so I said it again louder a second time. When I saw his eyes
barely open, I started crying, thankful he was finally coming around. He looked
me in the eyes and began to cough. Dark red blood spewed out of his mouth as
his hand found mine, and he squeezed it. When he spoke in between coughs, all
he said was, ‘
I’m so sorry, Bailey. I love you.’
Then his eyes fluttered
closed and I knew. I knew he was gone. It was like my whole life stopped. I
couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything for him. I screamed
at the tops of my lungs and yanked on seat belt as I tried to get free, but it
wouldn’t give. My hands balled into fists as I beat on the roof of the car. I
wanted to get someone’s attention, anyone’s attention, so they could help save
my brother. I don’t know how long I hung there beating on the car and screaming
for help. I’m told that I passed out from so much blood rushing to my head. I
woke to the sounds of grinding, and something cutting through metal. And just
like that, the gut wrenching screams started all over again. I screamed for
anyone and everyone to help Trent.”

Tears
flow down my face like a raging river, as I sit here wishing that I could
absorb this girl’s pain. I wish that I could take it all away from her, and
give her brother back to her. With her head resting on my shoulder, her audible
sobs tear at my heart. I keep quiet and just let her cry. Cry for the brother
she lost. Cry for the pain that suffocates her. Cry for the mere fact that she
knows she will never get him back. She will now have to live the rest of her
life with only the memories of Trent ingrained into her heart and soul. But we
all know, as time goes on, even those memories fade.

Long
minutes pass before she continues. “You know, sometimes, I can still feel his
arm across my chest using it as a shield to keep me from flying out the window.
He protected me. Trent made sure I was the one who was safe. But all I can
think about is how I couldn’t protect him. I couldn’t keep him safe,” she
chokes out, her voice raw and thick with emotion. And with that last statement,
my heart crumbles for this little girl even more and what she had to witness
and the pain she endures every day because of it.

Throughout
the rest of the week, Bailey seemed to open up more and more. She still had her
moments, but when she left last night, I caught her giving a John a hug, and
she actually smiled at me when she said she’d see me on Monday. As far as Wes
and I were concerned, we still tried to sneak in time for ourselves. Innocent
touches and stolen kisses passed between us, but nothing like the heated
inferno we endured in the tree house or the barn or the truck. When I would
pass by him, I would let my fingers gently graze his lower back, the tips of
his fingers, or his arm. There was one moment when I was putting a bridle away,
and he snuck up behind me and began tenderly kissing my neck. No words needed
to be said between the two of us. Our actions and eyes said it all. A couple of
times, I thought Mrs. Sandy had caught us. One of those times had been in the
laundry room. I actually
needed
to do laundry. But when Wes came in
behind me and locked the door, my plans were thwarted. Just as he was about to
sneak out, his mom came around the corner and asked what he was doing. I had to
cover my mouth with both hands to stifle my laughter. His answer was ridiculous
as he told her he was putting a load of clothes in the wash. The thought alone
was absurd, because when he’s home, his mom does his laundry. Mrs. Sandy told
me herself. It wasn’t because he wanted her to, but because it was the only
thing that he would let her do for him besides feeding him. 

Last
night, I was beat and ready to go to bed. As I came up the stairs, Wes caught
me in the hallway. He said Brantley mentioned how he and some of his old
friends were going to ride tomorrow. Everyone was going to have their ATVs and
dirt bikes out, riding the trails. Brantley asked if we would come. Wes thought
it would be a fun way to unwind and relax since we’ve all been with the kids
this past week. With my last riding experience with Wes on the back of a
four-wheeler still fresh in my mind, I said hell, yeah.

I’m
on the edge of my bed, pulling on my rain boots. The early morning light barely
shines into my room. I’m reaching behind my head to gather my hair into a low
ponytail when a light knock sounds on my door. Right as I’m about to say come
in, the door squeaks open, and there stands my man. Wes. My eyes slowly drink
him in as they rake up and down his worn jeans, his fitted, grey, long-sleeved
T-shirt, and laced-up riding boots. His blond tresses stand up in that
I-just-want-to-yank-it-while-I-do-dirty-things-to-you look. My thighs squeeze
shut as I try to contain the sudden urge to do those things to him here and
now.

“You
look like you have something dirty on your mind?” He wiggles his eyebrows as a
devilish smile forms on his face.

“Nope.
Not at all,” I answer with a smile of my own.

“Maybe
I can change that.” Quietly, Wes enters my room and shuts the door behind him.

“Oh,
yeah? And how might you do that?” I ask as he approaches me, like a lion on the
prowl, just waiting for the best opportunity to pounce.

 His
body leans over mine and pushes me into the fluffy mattress. “Like this,” he
replies with that deep husky voice. When his soft plump lips connect with my
jaw, I turn my head to give him better access to my neck. “Is this working?”
The vibration of his voice against me is turning my skin into an inferno.

“Not
really. Seems you need to work harder,” I reply breathlessly, as my eyes drift
closed.

With
that, he thrusts his hips into me and connects with a spot that aches for him.
Again and again, he plows forward until I’m panting so hard I can hardly
breathe. “What about now? Do you think I still need some work?” he murmurs
against the sensitive skin of my neck.

I
can’t think. Hell, I can’t even catch my breath. My body’s coiled so tight. I’m
on the verge of combustion. “Oh… I… think… you’ve… got it just right.”

And
just like that, my body is left feverish with want and a need so strong that
I’m ready to scream for him to take me now, but it’s also left cold with the
disappearance of his body heat. “Good, then my work here is done.” His arrogant
smirk and his arms crossed over his chest makes me want to slap him for
starting something he has no intentions of finishing.

My
eyes roll back in my head as I quietly mumble, “Tease.”

“No,
Babe. Not a tease. I’m just prepping you, so when the time comes, you won’t be
able to contain yourself.” He lifts my hands and pulls me off the bed into his
arms.

As
I wrap my arms around his neck, I whisper against his lips, “Promises.
Promises.”

“I’ll
show you promises.” Wes kisses me back and slaps my ass playfully.

A
giggle escapes me when I ask, “Is that all you have? You know for a man your
size; I would have thought you’d have more oomph behind that slap.”

“You
want more oomph?” As he draws his arm back, I drop mine from around his neck
and make a break for it. I swing the door open, and as quietly as possible, I
race down the stairs, through the living room and kitchen, and out the door
onto the back porch. Wes is hot on my heels when I look back over my shoulder
at him. “You can run, but you can’t hide,” he says from behind me.

I
stop dead in my tracks, spin on my heel, and face him. “I don’t want to hide.
Maybe for once, I wanna be caught. Have you ever thought of that?”

He
comes to a stop in front of me and grabs my hands. With a slight tug, he leads
me to his truck with the four-wheeler already loaded in the bed. “I’m glad,
because I want to be the one who catches you,” he says as he gives me chaste
kiss before helping me into the truck.

The
truck comes to a stop in front of a tree line that leads into the woods where
the trails are. A shit ton of people, who I assume are friends of Wes and
Brantley, are jumping out of their trucks and Jeeps. Some unload four-wheelers
while others offload their dirt bikes. “You ready?” Wes pulls my attention back
to him as he, looks over at me, and turns off the truck.

“Heck,
yeah!” I shout through a smile and leap out of the truck. I jog around to the
back and clutch the handle to the tailgate. With little force, I lift up and
pull the heavy metal door down. I’m itching to get back on the ATV and to wrap
my arms around Wes again. Even though I know I can do it anytime, it will be
nice to feel like we don’t have to hide our affections from other people. I
climb into the bed of the truck and start handing Wes the ramps to set up
against the tailgate so we can unload the four-wheeler.

As
we set up the ramp, he tosses me the key and says, “Go ahead and back it out.”

Adrenaline
rushes through my veins as I climb onto the four-wheeler and start it up. I
look behind me and slowly start to inch it backwards. Wes waves his hand back
as he offers his encouragement. “You got it. Give it a little more gas. Great.
Just like that. Now, ease it back a little further.”

When
the wheels make contact with the soft mud below, I throw it in drive and gun
it. Mud sprays everywhere. I look back over my shoulder to see what everyone is
laughing about, and I see Wes wipe mud away from his eyes. Mud covers him from
head to toe, and I can’t help but laugh. “Something funny?” He wears a
mischievous smile, and that’s when I know I’m done for. He has a plan to get me
back, and I only wish I knew what it was so I could be prepared. .

I
nod while I bite my lip to keep myself from laughing harder. With a shake of
his head, mud flies from his hair like a dog who’s just played in a rain
puddle. Biting my lip becomes futile because I can no longer contain the
boisterous laugh that bursts through me. I’m doubled over the handle bars with
my head resting on my arm as tears roll down my face, when without warning, I’m
lifted in the air and tossed over someone’s shoulder. My laughter only
increases when I see it is Wes carrying me. I try to look and see where we’re
going, but it’s useless. “Put me down,” I plead through my laughter.

“Nope.”

“Come
on. I’m sorry. It’s not funny.” I squirm to get out of his hold.

“See,
Babe, we no longer match. So, I’m gonna have to fix that.” He laughs and slaps
my ass with more oomph than he did earlier.

“Ow…
What do you mean—” My question’s cut short when my body is swallowed by a pool
of water.

 I
rise from the murky water that comes up to my waist, gasping for air. I’m
soaked from head to toe, and loose leaves and twigs are tangled in my brown
locks. My clothes cling to my body like a second skin. My feet feel as if they
weigh a ton. My boots are filled with water, and stick deep down in the mud.
It’s deathly quiet around me. I’m sure everyone is waiting to see how I will
react to Wes’ little stunt. I fake being pissed as I cross my arms over my chest,
dip my eyebrows down, and jut out my hip as much as possible. I point what I
hope is a glare in Wes’ direction. I want him to think I’m pissed. I may have
covered him in mud, but I’m soaked, and he will be, too, if I have anything to
say about it. “She looks pissed, dude!” Someone shouts from behind me.

Wes’
humorous expression slowly slips off his face. I can tell he’s really starting
to think I’m pissed. He inches closer to the water’s edge cautiously. “I’m
sorry. I thought it would be funny. Are you really pissed?”

“Do
I look like I’m pissed?” I ask incredulously while I subtly work my boots free
from the mud. “I’m fucking stuck here. My boots are filled with water, and they
feel like they’re stuck at least ten inches deep in the mud.” I throw my arms
up in the air.

In
no time, Wes races to my rescue. He jumps in the water and runs awkwardly
toward me. He doesn’t know what I have planned, but soon, he will find out. As
soon as he’s within reach, I leap out of water and onto him, and pull us
backwards into the dreary depths.

Large,
strong hands grasp onto my waist as I’m lifted out of the murky water.
“Hahaha…. I so got you,” I say, spitting dirty water from my mouth and
laughing. People laugh and yell obscenities while I wipe my drenched hair away
from my face. I blink the water out of my eyes as I lean into Wes’ hold.

His
arms tighten around my waist as he says in that deep gruff timbre that sets me
on fire, “We’re one for one, now.”

A
shiver races up my spine and tingles descend to the apex of my thighs. “I guess
we are.”

“Now,
how about that ride?” Ahh… the innuendo behind that phrase. I don’t want him to
think it means more than just the ride on the four-wheeler. But the way things
have been going between us these past few days, I know better.