CHAPTER eight.

I rubbed at my arm with a scowl on my face so severe I was certain the horse knew exactly what I was thinking. Foxy stomped her right foot down into the dirt and kicked at it, spraying my boot with dusty residue. She turned around and stuck her a.s.s in my face. Swished her tail at me twice and then casually walked over to the hay pile that Sunny was eagerly picking through.

"You okay?" Kris asked. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was drawn in a tight line.

"I'm fine. d.a.m.n horse is just stubborn. I'll try again later," I said with a huff while Kris helped pull me to my feet. I lifted my arm to find my elbow sc.r.a.ped and b.l.o.o.d.y. But it was my pride that had taken the biggest blow. Three times. The bay had thrown me three times.

It was mid-day and the sun beat relentlessly down onto my shoulders, turning my tan a shade darker. Gnats flew around my face and I swatted at them, cursing under my breath as one of the puny bugs flew up my nose.

Sunny was easy to saddle and even easier to mount. In fact, she seemed happy to have a rider. But Foxy proved to be more of a challenge. She allowed us to saddle her without a problem and even to lead her around the lodge lawn on her side pull. But the instant I put my foot into the stirrup, she changed. The first time she threw me, I hadn't even lowered my b.u.t.t fully onto the saddle before being tossed off. I immediately tried again, only to have the bay lower her head, tossing me up and over the saddle horn. Both times, I landed on my backside somehow. But this last time she reared up and bucked when she realized I had a solid handful of her mane and wasn't letting go. My left foot slipped out of the stirrup and off the saddle I went, landing hard on my back just inches away from her stomping feet. She could have crushed me if she wanted or at the least, landed a few good solid blows before she stomped away, but she didn't. She was testing me. It was a battle of wills and I was intent on winning the next round.

"Let's take a break, let them eat, and hopefully try again when the sun's not so d.a.m.n hot."

Kris nodded and carefully approached the horses, tying their leads onto the post by their hay pile. Foxy didn't look up at her, just continued to munch on the dried strands as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened that morning.

I was shaking clumps of gra.s.sy dirt from my ponytail when I heard Connor's voice, followed by Winchester's laugh. The trees had thinned out some from the heat of summer but I could still only see the tops of their heads as they followed the trail up. I briskly rubbed at my clothes, wiping at the dirt and scuffmarks left over from my falls. The last thing I needed was another argument with Connor about my safety. There was no way to hide my bloodied elbow, so I propped my hands on my hips as the men came into view, hoping neither would spot my injury.

Winchester waved in our direction and I nodded at him with a smile, raising my uninjured arm in a quick wave. Connor looked as if he had gone a few revolutions in a clothes dryer. His hair was pressed straight in funky places and curled in others. Even from a distance, it was easy to see which side of his face he had spent the last ten hours lying on. He was wearing the same jeans but a different top - the only tidy thing about his appearance.

As they got closer he smiled timidly, as if he was nervous or anxious to see me. "Well, good morning," I beamed, when the pair was within earshot.

"It's a perfect day," Winchester said. His hands were shoved deep into his jean pockets and he looked me up and down before a scowl settled on his face. "What have you ladies been doing up here all morning?"

"Cleaning the horses, can't you tell?" I answered. It wasn't exactly a lie. We had spent over an hour brushing the horses down with the shedding tools. And I had attempted to use the hoof pick to clean out the clods of dirt and mud packed onto the bottoms of their feet. Neither horse had enjoyed that very much. They must have sensed it was my first time grooming a horse and that I was nervous around their legs. Falling off a horse and landing on your backside was one thing - getting kicked in the head was another thing altogether. Thankfully, neither Sunny nor Foxy decided to see what my face felt like beneath their hooves.

Winchester nodded at me but the scowl didn't leave his face. "Being careful, I hope?"

I smiled, silently urging myself to keep from lecturing him that he was not my father. "Yep. All good here. So, I see you both survived the night. How you feeling?"

Connor groaned, the first sound he had made, and Winchester winced. "Let's just say this morning my stomach objected...profusely," Winchester said.

"I figured as much." I turned to look at Connor and softened my tone, "Sorry about leaving you on the floor. You pa.s.sed out and all I could do was roll you around until you looked comfortable."

"I'm sorry 'bout that. You know, for coming to bed so drunk."

I shrugged eager to change the conversation. I wanted to talk to Connor, to see how much he remembered before his face kissed the hardwood floor the night before, but not in front of the others.

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn't notice the men stepping back from me until there was a good five feet between us. When I looked up at them with a frown, confused by their matching expressions of concern, something tapped me on the shoulder. As I turned my head to see what Kris wanted, a piece of rope dragged across my neck and I yelped. The stubborn bay stood just behind me with her head next to mine, her lead dangling against my back. She pushed her muzzle along the side of my face, rubbing my cheek. With a playful nip at my shirt, she turned around and walked back to her hay.

I stood frozen, dumbfounded at the bay's behavior. Unsure of what had changed between us, I simply stared at her as she nudged the hay around before munching on it. Kris stood next to Sunny the palomino, her eyes wide with a big smile spread on her face. Did I just win this round?

Connor lounged in the Adirondack chair, his bare feet propped up on the deck railing as he watched a flock of white birds dive toward the surface of the lake through the tinted shield of his sungla.s.ses. He knew the headache would eventually go away, though it didn't feel like it at the moment. There wasn't enough room in his skull to contain the throbbing of his hung-over brain.

Zoey lay curled at his feet, tuckered out from chasing a squirrel between the cabin and the tree line for nearly an hour. The squirrel was clearly having fun teasing the dog, and though it was amusing to see, the back and forth motion of the two just made the splitting feeling inside Connor's head worse so he hadn't watched to see who ended up winning the game of tag.

The night before was fuzzy; toasts and shots and swigs from whiskey bottles plagued him. An image of Riley, sitting in their bed, arms wrapped around a pillow, just wouldn't leave his thoughts. And something else. Something dark; something he was sure he didn't truly want to remember, niggled at the fibers in his brain, doing its best to force a path to the front of his memory. He struggled to push it away, thinking of the lake instead. The dog and the squirrel. Or the fact that he had to clip his toe nails soon. But the dark memory kept trying to come back. He rubbed briskly at his face and winced when the jostling hurt his head.

"You know, you keep wearing your jeans outside in this sun, your tanned feet will no longer match your white legs."

Connor shifted in his seat, turning his sore head just in time to see Riley settle into the chair beside him. "I thought you liked my legs?"

"Oh I do, but keep this sort of sunning up and it will look like you're wearing brown socks when you're naked." She laughed, and even though the sound of a mouse fart was enough to make him cringe in pain, her laughter didn't. It was a honey-sweet musical sound that never failed to warm his heart.

"Done with your horses?" he asked.

"For now." She smiled at him, but he noticed the pull at the edges of her mouth, as if her grin was forced. He waited until she looked away, sighing heavily into the warm air. "We need to talk about last night," she said quietly.

"Yeah, I figured as much."

"And...?" she asked him.

"You go first. Last night is a big blur for me."

Connor sat still in his seat, listening to Riley recount the events of the previous evening. Ending with how he wound up on their bedroom floor, half-naked and alone.

"Are you certain?" he asked, feeling a cool sweat break out on the exposed parts of his body.

"Yes. One hundred percent; it was him."

He nodded curtly, amazed that his head could actually hurt more as Riley's words registered. After sitting up and being careful to keep the direct sunlight out of his face, he looked over his shoulder at the girl he loved.

"So, how long has Fin been back?"

The sateen sheets were cool and slick, and smelled of fresh lily. The laundry fragrance paired nicely with the scent of our body wash. Connor's breath touched the back of my shoulder and I concentrated on the soft wisps of air that hit my skin with a slow and steady rhythm. The day had been a long one; full of horses, discussions, ch.o.r.es and thoughts. That was what I was tangled in - my thoughts. As I waded through the murky waters of my mind, I felt lost and alone in the gloomy shadows. Even with Connor's arm draped protectively around me, I knew he wouldn't be able to save me from myself, or from the shadows that took form late at night.

Though I couldn't see Fin, I felt him nearby. His essence was heavy - impossible to miss. And he wouldn't leave me alone. Every time I blinked, I was certain his face would appear before mine, with him hunched over, watching me in bed. Or standing in the far corner, his gunshot wound open and oozing sickly-colored blood. If he could hear my pleas for him to move on, my demands for him to leave me be - he wasn't listening.

With a shaky sigh I shifted, rolling onto my back and adjusting Connor's heavy arm below my naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He moved slightly, b.u.mping his bent knee into my leg but he didn't wake. The haircut he had given himself suited him. Though his hair still had plenty of length, it didn't hide his features anymore. The straight angles of his nose and jawline were visible once again, as well as his eyes. I loved his hair long. He looked wild, rugged, and s.e.xy. But his eyes were my favorite - the clear blue color stood out against his dark features, begging me to get lost in them. Drown in them. And every time he looked at me, I did just that. Now that his hair was shorter, I could see more of his eyes, without having to push his wavy locks out of the way.

I was still staring at his sleeping face when dawn began kissing the bedroom windows. No matter how hard I tried to will it away, the new day had started. The room seemed to expand as the shadows were forced back into their hiding places and the light of day took over. I stared at the ceiling, checking out the wooden beams and a cobweb the size of a Mini Cooper that I hadn't noticed before. It was dusty, tucked into the far corner of the room, just behind the bathroom door. I became fascinated with it as the room brightened, hoping to see a spider run out along the sagging strands, but nothing did. The spider that created it had been gone a long time.

When hazy sunbeams began hitting the floor and spraying across the foot of the bed, Connor stirred beside me, flexing his arm across my midsection. I waited for him to stretch before I leaned over and softly kissed his mouth.

His eyes fluttered open, and with his early morning voice laden with a touch of his rusty Celtic accent, he murmured, "Morning, sunshine."

"Good morning."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Awhile. I know you slept well, you snored."

His eyes widened before he scoffed, "I do not snore!"

"You keep telling yourself that," I giggled.

"Kris is up, I can smell coffee," he sighed.

I heard her rise and creep down the stairs a half hour before, but I wasn't ready for coffee, plus part of me hoped I would drift off into some sort of slumber. My body was sore and achy from the day before.

"I'm going to take the horses out for their first ride today...with Kris," I said.

"Really? You think they're ready for that?" Connor propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at me.

"I'm sure Sunny is, but Foxy...we'll see. We won't know if they are ready till we try."

"True. Want me to go with?" He twirled the ends of my hair around his finger.

"Not yet, but thanks." I looked over at him and smiled. He was different, less combative, more interested in what I was doing with the horses. I wondered if he was beginning to change his mind.

"You know, I have this problem," he said with a sly grin on his face.

"What problem is that?"

Connor's fingers found my hand and he tugged it below the sheets, between us. "That's an impressive bulge, Sir," I joked.

"I told you I have a problem. Mind fixing it for me?"

His mouth met mine, parting my lips, eagerly probing inside to dance with my tongue. The sheet slid down to my waist and Connor kicked it the rest of the way off, exposing our nude bodies. He nibbled at my neck and shoulder while walking his slender fingers down my abdomen. The freshness of his body wash and the salty musk of his skin twisted my stomach into knots and t.i.tillated every one of my nerve endings. He had only to touch me to awaken every sense in my body.

We both jumped when a knock vibrated off the bedroom door. I clutched the sheet to my chest and heard Connor groan as he rolled off of me.

"Riley, Connor...you awake? Breakfast is ready!" Kris's chipper voice said from behind the door.

"Sure, Kris...we'll be right down!" I replied.

"Okay, great!"

"Wait, what?" Connor complained. He pulled me onto him until I straddled his waist. "That's all I get, a few kisses and love pats?"

I ground my hips against his before rolling away from him and quickly sliding off the side of the bed. "Come on, let's eat. Kris and I have a big day planned."

He was up and off the mattress before I slid my underwear on. The cotton fabric made it to my knees before he grabbed me from behind and pushed himself firmly against me. "But...you said you would help me with this problem," he grumbled into my ear, playfully nipping at my lobe.

I swatted at his roaming hands, which were seeking a resting place between my thighs. "I can help you with your problem later...will you stop that!" I laughed as he leaned into me, nudging my backside with his erection. I placed my palms on his thighs in an attempt to free myself, but he was stronger - and faster. One of his free hands darted between my legs and I gasped as his fingers slid inside me. The pad of his thumb rubbed against my c.l.i.toris as he pushed two fingers in and out at a pace that rivaled my heartbeat.

"Connor," I gasped as he spun me around to face the bed, bending me forward, still rubbing - still probing. I braced myself against the foot of the bed as Connor delved deeper inside me with one hand and cupped my breast with the other. Unable to stop myself, I pushed against him, longing for the feel of his s.e.x inside mine. My muscles tightened around his fingers as a moan escaped my mouth but instead of continuing, he eased out of me.

"No, don't stop," I pleaded.

Fingertips ran up my spine and I arched my back from the sensation. "Riley, I want you," he begged.

"Please...take me, Connor...I'm yours."

And take me, he did.

CHAPTER nine.

With each step along the trail, sweat rolled down the sides of my face and neck, soaking a dirty ring into the collar of my sleeveless top. I looked over my shoulder at Kris, and noticed her shirt looked no better than my own. We had only been on the horses for two hours, and it was the hottest day of the month. The thermometers inside the cabins read at a steady ninety degrees but all of us swore it felt more like one hundred and ten. The air was so dry that our throats were sore; none of us could get enough water.

For over a week, Kris and I had been taking the horses out for a daily three - five hour hike along various trails in the Laguna Mountains, testing them on different terrain, including the hard packed asphalt of the highway. I was almost certain that Sunny, our friendly palomino with the soft and gentle, Hershey-kiss eyes, was a trail horse at one time in her life. The only thing that Foxy struggled with was being in the rear. She hated to be behind the other mare and would yank at the rope reins and sidestep on the pathway until I allowed her to trot her way to the front. Lucky for us, Sunny didn't seem to mind being pa.s.sed up.

I almost cancelled the last trail ride of the week because of the intense, arid heat, but we were leaving soon and I wanted the horses to be able to take a few days off before we set out. It would be a long week of walking from east San Diego County to the outskirts of southern Los Angeles, and I wanted to make sure the horses could handle the random hot days just as much as us people.

Kris and I found a tandem saddle at a horse-boarding ranch not far from Julian a few days earlier, which would work perfectly for the two of us. Connor was going to ride Sunny. She took to him, so it worked out nicely for everyone. An added bonus was that Foxy didn't seem to mind having both Kris and I on her back, though it left less room for saddlebags. I figured that on some of the journey the three of us could walk beside the horses to give them a break when they needed it. And as long as we stopped along the way to pick up supplies, we wouldn't need to carry much with us.

The plan was set in motion. We had it all sorted, even marked out nicely on a map with a red pen. The only hitch would be the weather and timing our departure to go with other events happening at the lodge. Ana had a month or so left of her pregnancy, and I agreed to spend no more than a week in L.A. looking for Mariah. It didn't seem like much but I told myself if we didn't find her this time around, I could always go back. It would take almost a week to get there, another week to look around and a week to return. That left only a week's worth of time for unforeseen events.

My mind ran the journey details on a loop through my brain, and even though we had planned what we could, I attempted to think of every worst-case scenario possible. I was imagining what we would do if one of the horses became injured when Foxy jerked at the reins and stopped walking so instantly that I slammed forward into her neck. She stood rigid with her head held high and her ears forward as if she was listening to something in the distance.

"What is it, girl?" I asked quietly, while stroking the side of her neck.

She blinked and let out a soft grunt, but didn't take her eyes off the trail in front of us. When I glanced behind me, I saw Kris atop Sunny, scratching at her ears.

"What's up?" she asked me.

I shrugged and looked around us at the dry forest that had begun to encroach upon the trail. The only prints in the dirt were ours, from our hike through the area two days earlier. There was a stream that hadn't dried up yet, not far away, which was where I intended on taking us so the horses could get water, but it seemed as if Foxy was refusing to continue.

I tugged on her reins in an attempt to turn her but she stomped her front feet in the dirt, not taking her eyes off the winding trail. With a sigh, I yanked harder, hoping that whatever she had heard or sensed was too far away to be a threat, but still she didn't budge.

"Are we going back?" Kris asked. Sunny seemed irritable; she stomped at the dirt and shook her head so that her mane flew out around her.

"Well, that's what I was trying to--", I was interrupted by a high-pitched shriek that reverberated off the trees in a multi-tonal echo that made the hairs on my arms stand up. The cry seemed too loud to be human and cut off abruptly. It was close.

Both the horses bolted the way we had come, back along the trail. I leaned forward and hung on for dear life, one hand wrapped in the reins, gripping the saddle horn and the other fisted in the horse's mane. Two more times I heard the screeching cry of what sounded like a woman, off in the distant and I glanced over my shoulder only to make sure whatever had made the awful shriek wasn't following us. The horses galloped until the trail merged with the highway again, and they nearly tossed us into the uneven dirt shoulder when we tried to calm them down.

"What was that?" Kris asked, keeping her eyes on the tree line that ran parallel with the road.

"I don't know, and I'd rather not find out," I answered.

My arm hairs still stood upright and with both horses twitchy and unnerved, we made our way back to the lodge in silence, never taking our eyes from the trees. Something was definitely there, watching us. It was a different kind of darkness than the one we had all gotten used to since the city fell, tethering the dead to the living.