I take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. I prepared for this one. Nathan and I spent an hour last night going over how best to represent the barn, and what to say to garner the most attention from readers.
“Star Mountain Horse Rescue was started by my grandparents in the seventies as a place to rehabilitate horses that have been abused, neglected, or abandoned. When my parents died…” Saying the words cuts me like a knife, but I plunge on ahead. “When my parents died when I was five and my brother was ten, our grandparents raised us andran this place all by themselves. They passed away from old age two years ago, and I’ve been running it with Beau ever since. Beau provides the horses with medical care and I train them. Together, we’re continuing the mission set out by our grandparents.”
“Great,” Shane says, though it doesn’t seem like she’s paying a huge amount of attention. At least she’s recording the interview.
She asks me to tell her about specific cases that we’ve had over the years, and I tell her about rescuing Maggie, and training her with Gramps. I consider mentioning Storm, but that wound still feels too raw, and I know that people love a success story far more than they like a tragedy. I also add that we’re always looking for donations so that we can help more horses.
When I’m done, Shane says, “Perfect. I just have one more question.” She looks up from her notes and I see that the expression on her face is slightly devious. I brace myself for whatever is coming next.
“What is your relationship with Nate Booth?” she asks.
Fuck. Shane is clearly observant—which, duh, she’s a journalist—and she must have picked up on the dynamic between me and Nathan. I’m not sure what to tell her. I can’t be honest and I can’t refuse to answer, either. And I have no idea if Nathan is still in the kitchen listening to this.
“Candice?” she prompts.
“Nathan is a family friend,” I say after a beat. “And a great rider who I really respect.”
“But nothing more?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Working with him hasn’t brought you two closer in any way?” she prods.
I shake my head.
“So, there’s nothing going on between the two of you?”
“No,” I say, wincing internally. “There’s nothing going on with me and Nathan. That’s a ridiculous idea.”
“Well,” Shane says, capping her pen. “I’m sure that the single women of America will be glad to hear it.”
“Are we done here?” I snap, unable to control my reaction to her comment. Because it stings—thinking about all the other women who lust after Nathan stings.
“We are,” she says.
In a few moments, she’s packed up and gone, and I’m left alone in the living room with nothing but my thoughts. And if Nathan heard that conversation, well, he’s nowhere to be found now.
38
NATHAN
The day after the interview,I rise bright and early like usual, and head towards the barn office. My community service log is in my hand, the hours and dates filled out in neat columns, with Candice’s initials marking each week’s work. Two hundred hours, done over the last month. I worked six days a week to get it done, and I don’t regret it. It feels good to nearly be done with this chapter of my life, and to put everything that happened with Brad behind me. The article is going live online in two weeks, and if it’s well received, I’ll be reporting what I saw with him and Palladium.
When I get to the barn office, I find Candice inside with Tabitha, having her morning coffee.
“Hey,” I say. “I just brought this for you to sign.”
I hold the community service log out to her, but she doesn’t take it. She looks at it like it’s on fire or something.
“So you’re leaving?” she says finally, letting out a sigh.
“Yeah. I’m all done with my hours, so why not?”
She still just stares at the paper in my hand, all of the emotion gone from her usually expressive face.
“Though, based on what I heard yesterday, me leaving won’t matter all that much to you. I’m just a family friend,” I say, trying to bait her.
Candice scoffs, the sound reminding me so much of who she was when I first met her—dismissive, quick to anger. A Viper.
