“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Where can I get some ice?”
“We have a storage cabinet in the bathroom across the hall. There’s a first aid kit. There should be some ice packs in it.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” I fight the urge to press my lips to hers or even to taste her freckles. Instead, I stand, give her arm a gentle squeeze, and leave to find the ice packs.
“Here.” I hand her a bottle of water a few moments later that I found in the breakroom. She takes it, and I tear open a small packet of Ibuprofen. “Take these. It will help with the pain and inflammation.” She doesn’t argue as she holds out her hand to accept the pills before tossing them back, drinking half the bottle of water.
“Thank you.”
I nod. Grabbing what I assume is Aubrey’s chair, I roll it over to prop her leg up on and then squeeze the ice pack to activate it. I squish it around in my hands for a couple of minutes, getting it mixed up before placing it on her ankle. She winces but otherwise doesn’t say anything.
“You good here?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“Good. Now, tell me what I need to do to get the horse back in the pasture.”
“Shit, I forgot about Buckwheat.”
“Buckwheat? Do all the animals have names?”
“Most of them. I can call Aubrey or Chance when he gets home.”
“No need. I’m here. Just tell me what to do.”
“Landon—” I hear the argument forming in that one word, so I place my finger to her lips to shut her up. Have her lips always been that full, and… kissable?
“I’m helping you. Now tell me what I need to do.”
“He’s a big baby,” she relents. “But if you get some feed in a bucket and give him some time, he’ll come to you.”
“Okay. Where’s the food?”
“Out in the barn. I can show you.” She moves to get up.
“No.” My voice is firm. “You’re staying put. Here.” I hand her my phone. “Call your number on my phone.”
“What?”
“I said call yourself from my phone. That way, you can talk me through it and you won’t be tempted to get up to see what I’m doing. When we’re done, you can delete the call so I don’t have your number.”
“That’s crazy. Why would you want me to delete my number?”
I shrug. “I want to earn it, Em. Now call yourself.” I don’t know what I’m doing. This is the perfect opportunity to get her number, but I meant what I said. I want to earn it. There’s something to be said for having to work for her affection. It’s not something I knew that I wanted or even needed in my life until I saw her fall to the ground. I can’t explain it. I was worried about her. Not just “oh no, I hope she’s okay,” but worried. I don’t understand what’s happening here. I barely know this girl, but she consumes me. One small interaction of banter and her not throwing herself at me apparently is all it takes to have me hooked. Who knew?
I see a slight tremble in her hand as she takes my phone. Her fingers slowly press against the screen as she dials her phone. It’s sitting on her desk, so I grab it, lifting it to my ear. “Emma’s phone.” I grin. To my surprise, she grins back. “I’m going to get Buckwheat. Keep your ass in that chair.” I point to the chair as I speak into her phone, talking to her. I’m staring her down when she shakes her head, and a slow smile crosses her face. It hits me in the gut and has me puffing out my chest at the same time. I did that. I put that smile there, and I can’t wait to do it again.
“Go.” She points toward the door, and I salute her. Her chuckle follows me all the way down the hall.
Outside, I’m not exactly sure what I’m going to be up against. I spot Buckwheat over by the barn. “He’s by the barn,” I tell Emma.
“Good. Horses are smart. He knows where he’s fed, and it’s feeding time.”
“I can do that. How much?”
“He gets one scoop, a chunk of hay, and his water needs filled.”
“Got it.” I reach the horse. “Hey, buddy.” I hold my hand out to let him smell me. “Can horses smell fear?” I ask Emma.
“Yeah, all animals can. Are you scared, Landon?” Her voice is teasing, and I love it.
“No, but he looks scared.”
“He probably is. Poor baby.”
Buckwheat turns his head, bringing himself closer to me. “Hey, bud. Let’s get you back in the field, okay?” He snorts, and I take that as a yes. Stepping away, I open the gate, hoping he’ll just walk right in. He doesn’t. “Gotta be stubborn, huh? You get that from Emma?” I ask.
“Hey.” She laughs.
“You know it’s true,” I tease. “Okay, so the feed’s in the barn?” I ask, even though she already told me.
“Yes. We keep it in a barrel to keep rodents and other animals out of it. There’s a scoop inside.”
I make my way into the barn, and sure enough, there’s a large blue plastic barrel with a Horse Feed label written on the side. Twisting off the top, the scoop is there just as she said.
“Did you find it?” she asks.
“Yeah, he gets one scoop, right? Heaped or even?”
“What?”
“A heaped scoop or an even scoop. These things make a difference, Emma.”
She laughs again and I love the sound. “Heaped is fine.”
“Noted.” With my heaped scoop in one hand and the cell phone held to my ear with the other, I make my