Page 62 of Just Home for the Holidays
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Chloe sensedHunter’s nervousness and was glad to be with him. She felt honored to be sharing this reunion. He had so many secrets and she knew it couldn’t be easy for him to trust.
But he’d chosen to trust her.
It was a perfect day, sunny and cold, and the snow sparkled on the rooftops. They rode in silence after that kiss, hands clasped. When they left the city behind, she admired the rolling hills on either side, mixed with clusters of forest. Reg met them at the station and they piled into a pick-up truck, Hunter’s arm over her shoulders as if they were all at ease. He pointed out landmarks as they rode, even the farm his family had owned, and she liked seeing this part of his history.
Reg’s family farm was picture-perfect, with a red barn and a neat house. There was a riding ring and a large building that Hunter said was a riding arena. The fields were covered with snow, but they were extensive and neatly fenced. Chloe met Reg’s parents after they welcomed Hunter like a lost son. Obviously Hunter also knew several of the people who worked at the farm, but his gaze kept trailing to the barn.
“He didn’t come to see us,” Reg said, his tone teasing.
His dad chuckled. “I think she knows something’s up.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Hunter said, then turned to Chloe. “Do me a favor. Make a video for Char, just in case it doesn’t all go to hell.”
“It won’t, son,” Reg’s dad said and clapped him on the back. “I put out a couple of pairs of boots for you to try. They’re nothing like your dressage boots, but you can always buy another pair...”
Chloe was glad to have something to do. She began to film Hunter with her phone, trailing behind him and staying close enough to pick up the conversation.
The boots transformed Hunter, making him look taller and less urban. He took a couple of apples from his bag, tossed them into the air for the video and caught them like a juggler. He then pushed a hand through his hair, looking momentarily uncertain. She thought he muttered “here goes nothing.”
Chloe followed him into the barn, watching how he chose a brush then paused before walking down the middle of the barn. It was warm inside and there was loose hay in the air, as well as the rich smell of horses and mucked-out stalls. She’d seen many of the horses out in the pasture, some with blankets on, but there were more in the barn. Those still in their stalls poked out their noses as Hunter passed, obviously curious. Hunter had a definite destination and he didn’t hesitate.
In the last stall, a dark brown horse with a star on her brow lifted her head over the wall of the stall. Chloe saw her eyes brighten even from a distance and knew. Duchess straightened, becoming several inches taller. Her ears flicked as Hunter walked closer and her nostrils flared.
“Hey, Duchess,” Hunter said. “Remember me?”
The mare’s foot stamped and she nickered. Obviously, she did.
“I thought we might head into the arena and dance, just like old times.”
Duchess neighed and stamped, as if urging Hunter to hurry.
“That’s my girl.” He rubbed the mare’s nose and gave her an apple, scratching her ears as she ate. He moved into the stall, still talking, and began to brush her down. She nipped at him playfully and her tail swung, giving Chloe the definite sense that she was glad to see him again.
Hunter brushed and braided her tail, using a red ribbon to tie it up. Then he brushed and braided her mane, twining it with ribbon, too.
“Doing the hair of all the girls,” Chloe teased and he laughed.
“It’s part of it,” he explained. “She remembers the ritual of preparing for competition. It might help her to remember me.”
“I don’t think she’s forgotten you.”
Hunter smiled. “No. Me neither.” He brushed Duchess again, murmuring to her the whole time. He lifted the saddle on her back and tightened the girth. Duchess was shaking her head and stamping with impatience. Hunter put on the helmet that Reg’s dad offered, then pulled a pair of gloves. Reg gave him his crop and he swung into the saddle with grace and ease, revealing how often he’d done it before. She could see that he’d done this for years and that he was good at it.
“You two look great,” she said.
Hunter winked. “Wait ’til you see us dance.”
He nodded and patted Duchess’s neck. Reg opened the gate of the stall and Hunter rode down the middle of the stable toward the riding arena. Reg and his family were looking on with obvious anticipation as Hunter rode Duchess to the middle of the arena. He patted her neck, then pulled out his phone.
“Let’s dance,” he said to the mare, then started the music.
It wasRhinestone Cowboy.
That wasn’t just Hollis’s song—it was Hunter’s. This was the version sung by Glenn Campbell, the one Chloe had heard a thousand times before. Duchess obviously recognized it, because she arched her neck and began to step in time.
Chloe had heard of dressage but she’d never seen it. She was completely unprepared to see the horse dance in time to the music. She’d thought it was a metaphor, but Duchess was dancing. The mare and Hunter had obviously trained together, memorizing a routine, and Duchess remembered a lot of the steps once she heard the music again. She raised her feet high and pranced, looking for all the world like a carousel horse with those ribbons in her mane. She danced lightly, moving sideways or diagonally across the arena, always in step with the beat. Chloe realized then that Hunter was guiding the horse too, talking to her, changing the position of his knees, using the reins so that she moved smoothly through the routine. The sight of them together made Chloe’s chest tight. Reg’s dad looked like he was going to cry.
