A Summer Afternoon (PG-13)

[syrinx]

A Summer Afternoon
By Syrinx
Rating: PG-13

A/N: This is the long awaited sequel to This Far. Truthfully, I don't even remember when I posted This Far...but I do remember that being a very long time ago and I always knew I was going to write sequels to it, but then wound up writing all of those prequels. So, after all of this time between This Far and now, I give you the first (yes, first) sequel.

This is the first section, in Brad's POV. It's mostly an ensemble piece, and Ashleigh will be featured most prominently so that's why it's in this forum. That, and this series was always primarily about Ashleigh. So, here's the first section. More to follow. And thanks as always to Claire for obvious reasons. Very Happy

(Also, you must read the rest of the series to understand what's going on here. Series goes as follows: Foundations/Too Little, Too Much/A Kind of Man/How to Part the Sea/Victory Comes and Goes/Lente/This Far. Once you've done that, you're cleared to start reading this story.)


1.

It took twenty-five minutes to drive from his hotel in Lexington to Townsend Acres, which sat further out in the country along the Blue Grass Parkway. Altogether it was a miserable trip for a multitude of reasons. For one, he’d been given a smaller car than he’d requested at the rental agency, but had been too tired to talk himself into a better situation and thus was stuck with a contraption that was hardly meant to be driven by anyone taller than 5-foot-something. Secondly, there was some God-forsaken summer festival occurring in the city that had made getting in and out of the hotel a pain in the ass. Then, of course, he was driving to his farm’s bankruptcy auction. That last one really took the cake.

In a matter of hours Bradley H. Townsend would be going from one of the preeminent heirs in Kentucky horse society to a cautionary tale. It would happen in a blink of an eye sometime around 6:30, or whenever the last item sold at auction. Brad didn’t intend to be around the farm when that moment occurred. In fact, he was planning on ringing in the moment by purchasing a six-pack and watching whatever game was on television. It would slip by and he wouldn’t even notice.

The white fence line came into view, and a feeling of dread settled deep in his stomach that refused to be shaken away. As he exited the freeway and came up to a stop sign, he took a long sip of the scalding coffee before turning onto the access road to Townsend Acres, hoping the caffeine would dull any emotion without making him feel physically ill.

When he came up to the closed cast iron gate that allowed access to the working section of the farm, he glanced further up the road to see the long line of cars and horse trailers threading through the open public entrance before nodding wordlessly to the guard. The gate whirred to life, opening slowly over the gravel drive. As soon as it had opened enough to allow the small car access, Brad headed down to the main offices.

As soon as he was parked and out of the car, the deluge started.

“Brad!”

Putting his coffee on the roof of the car and leaning back in to find his wallet that had somehow found its way to the floorboard, he picked up the folded piece of leather and straightened up. With a glance behind him at the owner of the voice, he slipped the wallet into the back pocket of his faded jeans and sighed. It was Jim Weston of Classic Horse Inc., a small blockstock agency based out of Lexington.

“Yeah, Jim?” Brad asked, turning back around to snag his coffee and slam the door shut.

“So where’s the mare?” Jim asked. “She’s disappeared off the farm and I can’t find her anywhere in the book here. No one seems to have a clue where she is.”

Brad watched the smaller man wave the auction booklet in front of him and raised his eyebrows, mimicking shock. “We’ve got a loose broodmare, have we? Well, that’s d**ned serious, Jim. Thanks for informing me.”

“This isn’t a joke, Brad,” Jim glowered, lowering the booklet.

“Well, help me out here,” Brad said. “Who is ‘the mare’ we’re talking about?”

“You know d**ned well,” Jim huffed. “Ashleigh’s Wonder. Her stall’s empty but for her weanling. It’s causing quite a stir down in the broodmare barn.”

“What kind of stir?” Brad asked.

“There’s a group of people down at her stall,” Jim said. “I think we deserve an explanation about this…”

“Right,” Brad shrugged, running a hand through his messy hair and turning around to head down to the broodmare barn. Jim followed quickly behind him, asking more questions than Brad was interested in answering.

As soon as he walked into the broodmare barn there was a chorus of exactly the same question. Where was Ashleigh’s Wonder? Brad found himself swamped with interested buyers representing all sorts of regions, nations and interests. He summoned up one of his charming smiles and held up his hands, still holding the coffee cup to ward off the slew of questions about the mare.

“I appreciate the interest,” he started, talking over the crowd as they quieted in front of him. “The mare isn’t in her stall because it’s not in her best interest to be near this much attention when she’s in foal and when she’s not the farm’s to sell.”

That got the shocked reaction he was anticipating, and instead of sticking around to answer the questions, he managed to get through the crowd unscathed and slipped into the broodmare manager’s office, where one of the assistants was most likely surfing around on the internet.

“Jessica, right?” he asked, making the young woman jump in her chair and look at him with bug eyes.

“Yes,” she stammered, and he gave her another one of his smiles. She reflexively grinned, but her eyes were still filled with surprise at having been intruded upon by the farm’s playboy heir.

“Do me a favor and stick a note on Wonder’s stall about her not being included in the auction,” Brad said, watching the girl sprint to find a pad of paper. “She’s been sold privately. Her foal will be auctioned off, but not the mare.”

“Sure,” Jessica said, scratching down the note and looking up to find him already gone.

There were countless people to talk to on his way back up to the offices, many of which Brad wished would have just kept to themselves. Between auction questions, training questions, and simple inquiries into how he was doing, Brad felt he should have just done what his father had elected to do – simply go into seclusion.

He had just broken away from the last well-wisher and was turning the corner to the administration building when he stopped short at the sight of the new Dodge Ram and accompanying trailer. The Ram itself was sparkling white, as though it had just come through a high powered wash. The trailer behind it was immaculate. Its white sides and the letters painted on it in dark blue were without a mark of dirt. Fitting,he thought. In all the years he’d known them, he’d never tagged the Griffens as untidy. He couldn’t say the same for their daughter, however, and just as soon as he turned from the trailer he was quick to find her in the doorway to the building.

She smiled a nervous, half-smile and lifted a hand in an unsure wave hello. Instantly he relaxed, shedding off the tension of the previous fifteen minutes when he saw her slip out of the shadow of the doorway and walk up to him. She was addictive. All 5’2” inches of her in blue jeans, New Balances, and a light green, rumpled button-up with sleeves rolled to the elbows.

“So I’ve heard this rumor,” she began, her nervous smile slipping into something mysterious as she slowed in front of him.

“You’ve heard already?” he asked, and she quirked an eyebrow in the most sexy way possible.

“Wonder?” she asked.

“People were in hysterics,” he said. “I had to calm the masses.”

“I’ll bet,” she laughed, crossing her arms over her chest as she stopped in front of him. Then her expression changed, softening as she looked up at him. “Where is she?”

“Would you like to see her?” he queried, getting a petulant pout as a reward. He grinned, raising a hand to cup her jaw and brazenly rub his thumb lightly across her bottom lip. She opened her mouth faintly to inhale a startled breath, and with that action he could practically feel both of their heightened heart rates.

Then she jerked out of his reach, anxious as she started to say something, her eyes darting around. He didn’t need to hear what she might have said, knowing on instinct that it was simply someone might see.

At that, he darkened and dropped his hand to his side as he watched the emotions play on her face. Then she sighed and shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“I understand,” he shrugged. “I don’t like it, but I understand.”

“It’s stupid,” she argued. “I shouldn’t have to act like that, especially after everything that’s happened.”

He watched her wordlessly for a moment, wondering if he should even try to question her. Instead he just shook his head and motioned to the truck.

“Do you want to see her or not?” he asked, and she smiled brightly, no doubt trying to make up for her earlier reaction.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Where is she?”

“Get in the truck,” he said. “We can bring her down now and put her in the private stable. It’s empty anyway.”

“Okay,” she said, tugging the keys from the pocket of her jeans and turning quickly to the truck and trailer. He followed her without a word, opening the door to the Ram and easily climbing inside as Ashleigh launched herself into the cab. He leaned into the passenger seat and didn’t bother with the seatbelt, preferring instead to watch her meticulously start up the truck. The sudden roar of the Ram’s engine seemed to startle her, and he suppressed a smile as she put the truck in gear and backed away from the building.

As soon as she reached the middle of the parking lot, she cast him a curious look and he motioned to the maintenance trail that led away from the farm. She followed it without question, sending the truck rumbling up the gravel road and into the forested hills.

They were quiet on their trip up into the hills, both keeping their eyes glued to the dirt road in front of them. Brad took the opportunity to sit back in the seat of the cab and try to relax; to try not to think about things for once. When he finally opened his eyes, he looked up at the ceiling of summer foliage racing above them and then cast a glance out the side window where Townsend Acres could be seen sprawling at the foot of the low hills.

“Will you miss it?” Ashleigh asked, catching him by surprise. He jerked his eyes from the farm and smiled slightly at her.

“Yes,” he said simply, and then he caught the start of an unpainted fence line approaching by a bend in the road.

“Slow the truck, Ash.”

Ashleigh nodded and tapped on the break, slowing the truck to a crawl and finally a full stop.

“Where are we?” she asked, putting the truck in park and killing the engine, trying to see through the trees.

“The fence to the left,” he said, motioning to it as he took a sip of his coffee. She looked over, and then grinned. Within seconds she was out of the truck and dashing across the drive to the small paddock where Wonder was stationed, her golden neck draped across the unpainted fence. He opened his door, swinging out of the truck and placing his coffee in the cup holder to be finished later. Brad watched Ashleigh hug Wonder’s neck as he walked across the drive, still wondering how she managed to keep that tiny girlish quality to her.

Wonder seemed to inhale her, pressing her head against Ashleigh’s stomach and then shoving her nose into her long brown hair, nickering excitedly. He realized suddenly that Ashleigh hadn’t seen the mare since she’d moved to New York a good two years ago. It was then that he was truly impressed by the mare’s enduring connection to her, and he found himself wondering just how he had missed it before.

Ashleigh crooned to the mare, running her fingers down Wonder’s neck and through her orange mane. Brad leaned against the fence, watching the pair with what he admitted to himself was a mounting jealousy. The notion was ridiculous, and he discarded the feeling immediately when Ashleigh turned her head, resting her cheek against Wonder’s forehead as she smiled at him.

“So you hid her away?” she asked. He shrugged nonchalantly.

“It seemed like the best option,” he said. “It was either that or let hundreds of people assume she was on the roster to be sold. I didn’t think that was quite fair to anyone.”

“Hum,” Ashleigh murmured beneath her breath, letting Wonder go back to her grazing. The mare swung her head back over the fence and lowered it, inspecting the shoots of grass that grew along the bottom rail.

“Having a thought?” he asked, crossing his arms as he leaned his back against the top rail.

“Maybe,” Ashleigh said softly, walking slowly along the fence toward him. She stopped hesitantly next to him, as if expecting him to unfold his arms and pull her to him. When he didn’t move she arched an eyebrow and stepped in front of him. Brad watched her carefully as she inched shyly into his personal space. Finally he reached one arm out and wrapped it around her waist, drawing her up against him and threading his other hand through her loose brown hair.

She met his mouth with hers and eagerly slid her arms around his neck, leaning into him. He moved his hand out of her hair, sliding it down to the back of her neck. She let him in slowly, exploring his mouth. After a moment he shifted away slightly, breaking the kiss gradually and smiling against her lips.

“Where do you see this heading, Ash?” he asked, and she tipped her head back to consider him curiously.

“What do you mean?” she asked, letting her eyes shift back to his lips. Before he knew what was happening she was tugging his lower lip between hers, encouraging him to kissing her senseless. He obliged for a few precious moments before breaking away again and picking her up, setting her down at an arms length from him as she cried out in surprise.

“Hey!” she scoffed, wiggling in his grasp as he looked her up and down, telling himself he’d get an answer out of her before succumbing. She was flushed, her hair a little messier than usual, and her eyes were shining, but he held onto her and kept her firmly away from him.

“I mean about later,” he said, knowing that wasn’t a very clear explanation. “After the auction.”

“I’m not staying for the auction,” Ashleigh said, somehow much more observant and coherent than he was. “Ian’s wedding is today at my parent’s place.”

“Right,” he said. She smiled at him.

“I’m not planning on staying either,” he said.

“Well,” Ashleigh said, wiggling out of his grasp and slipping back up to him. “What do you have planned?”

“Admittedly?” he asked, looking down at her as she rested against his chest. She raised an eyebrow.

He smiled. “Nothing.”

“Didn’t get an invite, huh?”

“I’m barely an acquaintance,” he pointed out.

Ashleigh considered him for a long moment, looking up at him as he lightly rested his fingers on her waist. Then, after an almost imperceptible nod of her head, she slid up his body and kissed him again. Before he could react, she pulled away and rested her forehead against his.

Then, she said the last thing he would have expected. She smiled and murmured, “Be my date.”

[syrinx]

2. Ashleigh

Part 1

A little part of Ashleigh hadn’t expected him to agree to the idea of accompanying her to Ian and Beth’s wedding. She hadn’t been fazed by his agreement at the time, being too preoccupied by his mouth and his warm fingers that had been checking out the bare skin of her lower back. When they’d finally gotten to the business of loading Wonder into the trailer, a nagging seed of fear began to sprout in Ashleigh’s stomach, steadily growing through the tiny section of the auction she did see. By the time she’d watched Princess and Mr. Wonderful handed off to different owners, Ashleigh managed to slip away and load Wonder back into the trailer, leaving Townsend Acres with an agreement to meet Brad at her parents’ farm within the hour.

As she drove down the secluded country road to the small breeding farm, Ashleigh was busy running countless scenarios through her head. The first batch involved how to explain why she had Wonder with her, and the second involved how she’d go about revealing the specifics as to why she’d invited Brad to Ian and Beth’s wedding. She was glad now that Samantha had decided not to go the auction, citing having to help with the wedding preparations. It had given Ashleigh time to think, and as she approached the farm’s open gates all decked out in ribbons she would have given anything for a little more time to devise some shred of a plan.

Ashleigh swallowed down the feeling of her stomach climbing up her throat and turned into the entrance, carefully maneuvering the truck and trailer through the gate. Once she was clear, Ashleigh stepped on the gas and powered the Dodge down to the breeding complex, where she’d set up a stall for Wonder before leaving for Townsend Acres.

The barns were relatively quiet, with the majority of the action taking place closer to the house, where a large white tent had been set up and surrounded in elegant floral arrangements. Ashleigh pulled the truck up to the broodmare barn and turned off the rumbling engine, jumping out of the cab and coming around to the back of the trailer. She undid the latches quickly, wanting to get Wonder into her stall as quickly as possible without attracting attention.

When she got the ramp down, it was too late.

“Have a new acquisition, honey?” she heard her father’s voice from just inside the broodmare barn and Ashleigh allowed herself a small sigh, letting her head fall back in defeat.

“I do,” she said, looking over as her father walked out of the shadows of the broodmare barn, curiously looking into the dark interior of the trailer.

“Need some help with her?” he asked, a small smile forming on his lips.

“That would be great, dad,” Ashleigh said, walking into the trailer and undoing Wonder’s restraints.

“Did you get her at the Townsend auction? I didn’t think it was over yet,” her father said, helping Ashleigh back the mare down the ramp. Ashleigh ducked her head, easing Wonder down to the gravel ground. Wonder pricked her ears at her new surroundings, craning her head around to get a good look at everything.

“Oh,” he said suddenly, Wonder’s markings clearly jumping out at him. “Ash, this isn’t who I think it is, is it?”

“It’s Wonder, dad,” Ashleigh admitted quietly, letting her father get an eyeful of the mare. He opened his mouth and then closed it, looking back to Ashleigh with such a befuddled expression she had to smile.

“How on earth did you afford this horse, Ashleigh?” he asked, working through a stuttering attempt to find the words why Ashleigh was holding Wonder in front of him.

“It was a bargain, really,” Ashleigh said, giving Wonder a shaky pat on the neck and then stuffed her shivering hand in the pocket of her jeans, keeping her other hand firmly on the mare’s lead.

“A bargain?” Derek asked, aghast. “At auction, at foal to Storm Cat, she could bring millions.”

“I paid millions,” Ashleigh said quietly, looking at the tips of her shoes for a guilty second, knowing she’d put down more money on Wonder – even at the bargain Brad had offered – than her parents were wont to do for any blue hen in their broodmare band. Then again, none of her parent’s mares were Wonder, Ashleigh reasoned. Wonder was worth all of the Griffen Breeding mares combined as far as she was concerned.

“I won’t ask about figures,” Derek said, looking like he clearly wanted to and was having trouble holding back. “I’m just surprised you managed to get her at auction.”

“It wasn’t exactly the auction,” Ashleigh said, being rewarded with another quick, confused look. With a heavy sigh, she went ahead and came out with it, knowing then that it would be just as impossible to hide how she’d acquired Wonder as it would have been sneaking her into her stall at Griffen Breeding. “I bought her from Brad.”

“But Brad never owned Wonder,” Derek said, failing to put the pieces together.

“He didn’t until about two weeks ago, give or take a few days,” Ashleigh explained. “He offered her to me, and I couldn’t turn him down.”

“He offered her to you?” Derek asked slowly, the meaning of the situation attempting to compute. “Why on earth would that man offer anything to you?”

“It’s a good question,” Ashleigh murmured, thinking back to his shenanigans with Precocious.

“I can’t imagine you were the first person he thought of to approach,” Derek reasoned. “There must have been more suitable buyers with deeper pockets.”

“Maybe, dad,” Ashleigh shrugged, deciding the rest of the story wasn’t so important. It would pale in comparison to the bombshell she had waiting for everyone in the ticking minutes of the next hour.

“Well,” Derek said, staring at Wonder for a brief moment before motioning to the barn behind him. “Want to get her acquainted to her new living arrangements?”

“I would, yes,” Ashleigh smiled, tugging lightly on the mare’s lead and following her father into the stable.

As soon as Wonder was situated, Ashleigh headed up to the house. There was almost a constant stream of wedding guests arriving to the farm, and Ashleigh had to wind her way through the parking cars in order to get to the front steps of the old farm house. The obstacle course of cars laid out in front of her added an extra challenge to her already occupied brain, and she was nearly clipped by one of the more aggressive drivers just before she made it to the house.

All in all, Ashleigh made it to the front door unscathed but breathing rapidly. For a moment she stood on the porch, steadying her breaths and plotting out how she would go about introducing Brad to what she knew would be an increasingly chaotic scene. Just when she had regressed into convincing herself it was all impossible – this was Brad Townsend, after all – the door flew open and her mother was standing on the other side with her hands on her hips.

“Where have you been?” Elaine Griffen asked with an astounded expression. “Guests are arriving and you’ve still got to shower and get dressed.”

“Auction,” Ashleigh said, offering up her one word response before her mother tugged her inside the house. They weaved through the disaster area that was the living room, stepping over white boxes and other knickknacks Ashleigh couldn’t place names to on their way toward the stairs.

Upon their arrival in the bathroom, Ashleigh was greeted with the scene of her sister and Samantha. Caroline was busy doing something to Samantha’s hair, and Samantha put down the plastic bottle she had been engrossed in reading as soon as Ashleigh stumbled inside the room.

“Ash!” Samantha said, trying to move to Ashleigh only to be tugged back by Caroline.

“We’re almost done, Sammy,” Caroline said, pulling her back to her previous spot.

“Well, she’s either done now or you can take this to another room,” Elaine announced. “Ashleigh is going to rinse the barnyard off of her.”

“Well, that’s a serious process,” Caroline quipped, grinning as Ashleigh made a show of rolling her eyes.

“I was at an auction,” Ashleigh said. “Not rolling around in manure. There’s a giant difference.”

“Not in terms of scent,” Caroline told her, wrinkling her nose and tugging the straightener’s plug out of the wall. “We’ll finish in the other room, then we’ll see what I can do for Ashleigh.”

Ashleigh gave her sister a pressed lip smile, but before she could make a remark in return her mother was putting a fresh towel and a robe in her hands. Then the door closed in her face.

With a heavy sigh, Ashleigh turned to the empty bathroom and tossed the objects her mother had given her on the floor near the shower. It would be universally fitting that her sister would be visiting home the same week Ian and Beth had decided to get married at her parent’s farm. Caroline and Justin had made a last minute stop in Lexington on their way back from the Gulf, where they had been taking their last vacation before becoming parents to what would soon be Ashleigh’s nephew.

As Ashleigh turned on the shower head and waited for the water to warm up, she was sure all of this was an evil, cosmic joke on someone’s part. Especially now, considering the circumstances.

After she was scrubbed down and smelled decidedly like the vanilla shampoo her sister had brought with her, Ashleigh dried off, wrapped herself in the robe and braved the group of women in the master bedroom.

The bedroom had been temporarily converted into a dressing room. Beth was in one corner, holding up her arms as Ashleigh’s mother laced up the back of her wedding dress. Caroline and Samantha were situated in front of Elaine’s dressing mirror, and a short blonde girl sat behind them on the queen-sized bed, blowing on her fingernails that had been painted a pale pink.

Ashleigh stood in the door silently, happy to go unnoticed before Caroline finished up with Samantha and noticed her hovering just inside the room.

“Okay, Ash,” Caroline said, motioning for her to come inside and sit down as Samantha scooted out of the way. Ashleigh sat down in front of the mirror and submitted to a brush being yanked through her hair as Caroline dried the long, brown tresses. All the while Ashleigh stared at her sister in the mirror, alternatively wondering why she couldn’t be trusted to dry her own hair and why Caroline was putting so much effort into her appearance when the wedding didn’t have anything to do with either of them.

“I swear, Ashleigh,” Caroline grumbled, turning off the hair dryer and giving her a disgruntled look in the mirror. “When was the last time you got your hair cut? There are split ends everywhere.”

“It’s not high on my list of priorities,” Ashleigh replied, smiling sweetly into the mirror. Caroline gave her a warning glance before picking up the hairspray and going to work.

Through the prolonged torture, Ashleigh watched her sister chatter with the rest of the women in the room. She said little, preferring to run through exactly how she was going to break the news about Brad. Absently, she listened to the conversations running through the room, wincing as Caroline ruthlessly went at her hair with a curling iron and bobby pins, wrestling her thick dark hair into a loose updo.

“Now, I hope this won’t be embarrassing when Craig gets here,” Caroline said almost to herself as she pushed the last bobby pin into Ashleigh’s hair and stepped back, admiring her work as Ashleigh turned around, instantly on alert.

“Who’s Craig, Caro?”

“Well, you needed a date,” Caroline said, cocking her head at Ashleigh’s aghast stare. “What? You couldn’t have possibly thought to bring one.”

“I can’t believe you’ve thought to get me one and you’ve only been in town for three days,” Ashleigh exclaimed, staring at her sister in horror. “Tell me you didn’t do this.”

“Craig’s a great guy, Ash,” Caroline said, waving Ashleigh off with a toss of her hand and moving to unplug the curling iron. “Now, where’s your outfit. I need to see if your shoes match…”

“No, Caro,” Ashleigh said, standing up and blocking her sister’s path to her old room. “I do not need a date.”

“Ashleigh, it’s not a big deal,” her mother interjected. “Caroline, you should have run this by her…”

“She wouldn’t have gotten one anyway,” Caroline huffed as Ashleigh rolled her eyes and responded without even thinking. “What is the problem?”

“The problem is I have one already, Caro.”

It was out before Ashleigh could convince herself to close her mouth. The sentence hung there awkwardly as everyone in the room turned to look at her, and Ashleigh snapped her mouth shut quickly. It was impossible to find a pair of eyes not focused on her, and just as Ashleigh reminded herself that she needed to break the news sooner rather than later, her sister broke into her thoughts in her patented, clinical fashion.

“You have a date,” Caroline said slowly, putting her hands on her hips and observing Ashleigh critically, trying to sniff out if she was being fed a lie.

“I do,” Ashleigh replied, looking down at her toes for a second and nervously tucking her robe tighter to her body.

“Who,” Caroline stated challengingly, just like when they were kids.

“Brad Townsend,” Ashleigh whispered just below her voice, inaudible to everyone but Caroline.

“Who?” Caroline asked, truly confused now and completely taken aback. Ashleigh looked up at her, slowly dragging her eyes up to Caroline’s face.

“Brad Townsend,” she said slowly, wishing she could appreciate the confusion blossoming in her sister’s gaze.

“Very funny, Ashleigh,” Caroline rolled her eyes, tipping her head back to their mother, whom was also suppressing a small smile. “Can you show me your dress now?”

“I’m not kidding,” Ashleigh said softly, clenching her fists next to her sides. “He’ll be here in minutes.”

At that, Caroline regarded her closely and said nothing. Samantha moved forward slightly, hesitantly regarding her with guarded suspicion. No one said a word, leaving Ashleigh to shift nervously on her heels as she waited for the response.

“Ash,” Samantha said, narrowing her eyes briefly as she considered something, and then shook her head. “Brad Townsend? I think I speak for everyone when I say that I don’t understand.”

“It’s a long story,” Ashleigh admitted, finally looking up and into her sister’s eyes as Caroline’s jaw dropped. Ashleigh stared into her sister’s clear blue eyes and said nothing as Caroline rocked away from the door and shook her head.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” she demanded. “Brad Townsend? Ash, this is a joke.”

“It’s not,” Ashleigh shook her head, reaching out as Caroline flinched away, looking at her as though she’s crossed too many barriers to feel comfortable. Ashleigh dropped her hand quickly, folding her arms across her stomach as Caroline looked at her uneasily.

“You’re serious,” Caroline stated, and Ashleigh nodded.

“I am,” Ashleigh said, watching a multitude of emotions flow over Caroline’s face as silent seconds flew by. Before Ashleigh could find words to explain, Caroline sucked in a deep breath and announced that she needed air. No one moved as Caroline pushed past Ashleigh, darting through the hallway and down the stairs.

“Caroline!” Ashleigh called, turning around quickly as she watched her sister descend down the stairway without a glance behind her.

Part 2

In the grand scheme of things, the number eight never seemed like a large number. When Ashleigh’s mother grabbed her hand to keep her from following Caroline, that was the only thing Ashleigh could think about. Eight years that separated this day from the moment Caroline had broken up with her first serious boyfriend. A rule had been broken somewhere, Ashleigh recognized then. It had been broken some time ago.

“Stay here and get dressed,” Elaine commanded. “I’ll talk to Caroline.”

“Mom,” Ashleigh sighed, dropping her hand to her side as Elaine shook her head.

“She’ll be fine, Ashleigh,” Elaine told her, heading down the stairs after her eldest daughter as she mumbled something about pregnancy and hormones under her breath.

Rubbing her forehead, Ashleigh turned back to the room and was immediately face to face with Samantha.

“Your room,” Samantha commanded, pointing out the open door.

“Sam, I’ve got to get dressed and I’m working with a really narrow timeframe here,” Ashleigh started, and Samantha rolled her eyes.

“Your clothes are in your room, remember?” she reminded her. “And I need information. Let’s go.”

With a casual aside to Beth that they would be back, getting an amused smile and wave in response, Samantha pushed Ashleigh through the door and into the hallway. Practically backpedaling the entire way to her room, Ashleigh finally dug her heels in at her doorway and gave Samantha her best incredulous look.

“Would you stop it?” she asked. “I can walk by myself.”

“I’m not taking any chances,” Samantha replied smartly. “You could dart away…”

“And run out of the house in a bathrobe?” Ashleigh snorted. “Not likely, Sammy.”

“What is with this Brad thing, Ash?” Samantha asked as Ashleigh let herself into the room and picked up the dress that she’s laid over her luggage. “You said it was a long story. How long is the story exactly?”

“About three years?” Ashleigh asked, shrugging at her estimate. “I guess it depends on how you look at it.”

Samantha’s mouth dropped open and Ashleigh groaned.

“Please don’t, Sammy,” Ashleigh said. “This is already hard enough.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Samantha replied as though she hadn’t heard her. “Three years? You’ve actually been with him for three years.”

“Not exactly,” Ashleigh said. “I was in New York for a good portion of that time and it wasn’t like we were in any way an official society pages sort of couple.”

“I imagine,” Samantha said. Then she narrowed her eyes at her suspiciously. “You two haven’t,” she paused, her mouth gaping again as the rest of the words refused to form a coherent question. Ashleigh groaned.

“This isn’t the sex question, is it?”

“Oh my God, Ashleigh!” Samantha exclaimed, sinking onto the bed staring at her. “Ashleigh!”

“What?” Ashleigh started, beginning to feel an itching feeling in her legs, as though her body was trying to actively convince the rest of her that fleeing was the best course of action right about now.

“This is unbelievable,” Samantha said, shaking her head.

“This is exactly why I said nothing to anyone,” Ashleigh returned, sitting on the bed next to Samantha, the hunter green dress laying across her lap.

“You could have told me, you know,” Samantha said. “I enjoy gossip just as much as the next person. I can keep secrets, and I can be supportive. You really could have said something.”

“No, I couldn’t,” Ashleigh shook her head. “I was mortified with myself most of the time. Telling someone else about what was happening was entirely out of my capabilities.”

“You’re not mortified now, though,” Samantha observed. “What’s different now?”

“Don’t know exactly,” Ashleigh frowned, staring at the dress and beginning to play with the fabric. “Maybe we’re both more inclined to be truthful than we were a year ago.”

“You mean you’re less likely to be completely and utterly pigheaded,” Samantha remarked and Ashleigh laughed.

“Thanks, Sammy,” she said, nudging her friend in the shoulder as Samantha grinned.

“You’re welcome,” Samantha chuckled. “But there has to be penance, you know. I need details to understand how this even happened.”

“I promise I’ll tell you later,” Ashleigh said, shaking her head and lifting up the dress. “I’ve really got to get dressed and go find Caroline to apologize for my timing.”

“Just one detail,” Samantha insisted as Ashleigh stood up and changed into the dress. “One little thing.”

“Pick one,” Ashleigh said, struggling with the zipper on the back of the dress.

Samantha produced a happy squeal and jumped up from the bed, quickly zipping Ashleigh’s dress up the rest of the way as she said, “The first kiss. I have to know about that.”

“You remember that Christmas party I whined about for about three solid days?” Ashleigh asked, and Samantha grinned.

“It was relentless whining, as I recall.”

“It happened during that, up on the second floor of the house, after we broke a Christmas tree ornament,” Ashleigh said, picking up the high-heeled sandals her sister had talked her into wearing.

“He had to make the first move,” Samantha assumed. “Right?”

“We were cleaning up the broken glass,” Ashleigh nodded, balancing precariously on one foot as she slid the leather strap of one sandal over her heel and repeated the action again with the other foot. “And out of no where he kissed me.”

“And…” Samantha prompted, but Ashleigh shrugged.

“It was a kiss,” she said, beginning to pull out the bobby pins her sister had so meticulously crammed into her hair. “I pushed him away and went back to that God forsaken party.”

“You didn’t kiss him back,” Samantha presumed.

“That could be up for debate,” Ashleigh allowed, running her fingers through her ironed, pin free hair.

“You did!” Samantha laughed.

“Yeah, I did,” Ashleigh nodded. “Briefly. Then I regained my senses and fled the scene.”

“Then what?” Samantha asked, getting a bemused look from Ashleigh.

“Nothing happened for nearly four months,” Ashleigh said.

“You two really took your sweet time, didn’t you?” Samantha asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“In some ways,” Ashleigh said, opening up the door before heading downstairs to find Caroline. “Like I said, we really weren’t meant for the society pages.”

[syrinx]

3. Caroline

Caroline McGowan was a happy woman. She was twenty-six, married to a wonderful man, and six months pregnant with a boy they’d already picked out a name for. In a month she would start maternity leave from her high end job and finally finish up the nursery like she’d been meaning to. She’d write thank you notes for all the baby shower gifts that were sent before their vacation, and she was going to definitely make sure to get back into yoga.

With a flustered sigh, Caroline closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. She wrapped her hands around the glass of sun tea her mother had given her and tried to relax into the rocking motion of the bench swing she had curled up on.

Then she groaned, her eyes snapping open. It was useless. She could feel the tension coiling in her, her muscles bunching up and twisting as Brad Townsend infected her thoughts like only he could. She hadn’t thought of Brad in years. Not since she’d gotten involved with Justin, gotten married, and gotten out. Now here he was again, and just when she thought she could take any news relating to what she had to admit had been her first love, she’d been proven dead wrong.

Admittedly, she didn’t care at all what Brad was doing. She didn’t bat an eye about what women he slept with, what ventures he involved himself in, what horses he bought and sold. She didn’t care one bit about any of that. But if it were to involve Ashleigh, that was a different matter and Caroline felt herself shivering at the smallest notion that her little sister was caught up in Brad Townsend.

“Caroline?”

Looking up from her position on the bench swing, Caroline gave her sister a dark glare and looked away. It didn’t take long for Ashleigh to muster her courage and cross the front porch to the swing, her heels clicking on the sealed wooden planks. After a moment’s hesitation, Ashleigh settled herself on the opposite side of the swing, causing it to bounce lightly.

Caroline glanced quickly at her and took in her little sister, noticing Ashleigh had pulled out all the bobby pins she’d insisted upon.

“I wanted to see how you are,” Ashleigh started, and Caroline tipped her head up to stare at the porch ceiling.

“I know this is weird, to say the least,” Ashleigh went on after Caroline neglected to say anything. “Brad and I, we just,” then there was a sigh. “Caroline, could you just say something? I don’t know what you want from me.”

Pursing her lips, Caroline finally looked over at Ashleigh and said slowly, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

Ashleigh frowned and turned to look down at her open-toed sandals, finally shaking her head. “Not so much,” she answered truthfully.

“Then I’m telling you now, Ash,” Caroline said steadily. “Figure things out, because with Brad anything is possible and I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

“Caro, I know you’re trying to be the older sister dispensing the great advice and all,” Ashleigh replied. “Advice is just not what I need right now.”

“What would you like then?” Caroline asked sharply. “Someone to support this? Someone to tell you that you and Brad are two peas in a pod and you should really go for it? I’m not going to do that, Ashleigh. I’m the one telling you to be careful. I’d tell you to end it, but you’re too willful to listen to advice that makes sense.”

“I’m not asking for support,” Ashleigh nearly cried in response to her sister’s upset speech. “I’ve gone three years without saying a word to anyone. I think I can support myself at this point, Caro.”

“You’ve been seeing him for three years?” Caroline replied, her voice steadying into an almost deadly calm.

“Off and on,” Ashleigh sighed.

“Ashleigh, I don’t have words for this,” Caroline said.

“You just had plenty to say, Caro,” Ashleigh pointed out.

“That was before I knew you’d been on again, off again with him for three years, Ash,” Caroline snapped.

“Look,” Ashleigh said, straightening her spine and looking directly at Caroline. “I came down here to make sure that you’re okay, not to seek any sort of blessing or get any belated advice.”

“Fine,” Caroline said. “You won’t get either from me, then.”

“I’m okay with that,” Ashleigh said, standing up, intending to end their conversation there. Caroline looked up at her little sister, wanting to shake her stubborn, willful streak right out of her. Ashleigh had always been like this, self-righteous to a fault and encouraged by the smallest of things, taking up lost causes with a blind pride and without thinking of the possible consequences. It was the impetuous nature of her sister, that ability to lay her heart down to so easily be trampled, that awed and angered Caroline to no end, especially now.

“When your friend gets here, please tell him I won’t be available,” Ashleigh said over her shoulder, then stepped down the stairs of the front porch without another word. Caroline clutched her cold glass of sun tea, her fingers wet with condensation, and watched her go. With an angry huff, she stood up fast and stalked back into the house, nearly running into her mother in the kitchen.

“Caroline,” Elaine sighed, reaching out and grasping her daughter’s upper arms to steady her. “Really, please be more careful of where you’re going.”

“I was,” Caroline said shortly, finding this admonishment ironic in light of Ashleigh’s recent news. She should be careful? Where were her mother’s wise words of counsel for her wayward sibling?

“Did Ashleigh straighten things out with you?” Elaine asked, letting Caroline go to start a meager effort toward cleaning the cluttered kitchen counters. It was as if an explosion had gone off in the Griffen household, a sight to behold even above their large Christmas morning celebrations.

“Ashleigh is being a stubborn mule,” Caroline replied angrily, putting her glass on the countertop. Not to Caroline’s surprise, Elaine merely nodded.

“I think we used to call that headstrong in this family,” she smiled to herself, opening the cabinet under the sink and beginning to rummage until she found the liquid soap. Closing the cabinet and turning on the tap in the sink, she squirted some of the lemon scented soap in the stream of water and began to place discarded dishes and glasses into the rising suds.

“You’re being flippant about this, Mom,” Caroline accused. “You can’t seriously tell me that this doesn’t bother you.”

“I’m a parent, Caroline,” Elaine reminded her, giving her daughter a pointed look at her round stomach. “You’ll know this soon enough, but I’ve worried over each of my children long enough to know they’re eventually going to become adults and start making up their own minds about things.”

“So you’re not even remotely worried,” Caroline asked, not buying it.

“I didn’t say I stopped being worried,” Elaine pointed out, putting the last dish in the suds and turning off the tap.

“Then shouldn’t we be intervening here?” Caroline went on. “This is Brad Townsend, Mom. I don’t think I have to stress that enough.”

“I’m perfectly aware,” Elaine said in her best soothing voice. “I know better than most the history here, Caro.”

“I don’t think you do,” Caroline argued. “I don’t think either of us have any idea what Ashleigh’s been doing for the past God-knows-when.”

“Then that’s up to Ashleigh to divulge when she wants to. For all rights and purposes this could be her first serious relationship, and who are we to pass judgment? You were quite enamored with Brad for some time as well, you know. I can’t say this is all that surprising.”

Caroline’s mouth fell open. “Not surprising?” she asked. “Mom, they hated each other.”

Elaine gave her a knowing look, giving Caroline a true sense of disgust. “This is absolutely wrong. If you aren’t going to do something about it, I will.”

“Caro,” Elaine sighed as Caroline marched back out the front door, paying no heed.

[syrinx]

4. Elaine

Wiping her wet hands on the dish towel by the sink, Elaine Griffen watched her eldest daughter stride down the front steps of the front porch with purpose before putting the damp towel back on the counter. Elaine was calm about this development, trusting Caroline to carry out whatever her plan was discretely. She was a passionate young woman, surely, but Caroline had never been one to cause a scene. That had always been Ashleigh’s department.

“Is there something I ought to know here?” Samantha asked as she led her future step-mother and step-sister down the staircase. They were ready to go; the ceremony was slated to begin in less than thirty minutes and there were pictures to take. Elaine turned and shook her head.

“Just a sibling squabble,” Elaine explained. “I’ve been dealing with them for years.”

Samantha arched an eyebrow, knowing the source of said squabble and that it had to be far more serious. Brad Townsend just didn’t get romantically tied up with a Griffen girl without there being serious repercussions. By now those that knew of the news were silently wondering how terrifically explosive the rest of the day could possibly be.

Elaine was determined to push past that. She had a wedding going on in her back yard, and since Caroline had demanded a church and country club wedding, Rory wasn’t the marriage type, and Ashleigh was too willful to consider it an option, this was probably the first and last wedding she’d see at her house. Elaine was going to enjoy this day, despite the fact that only friends were the center of attention and not her own children. Although by the rate things were going, the Griffen family would be taking center stage at any time. In the interest of being fair, Elaine decided to get the show on the road.

“Samantha, why don’t you head down to meet with the photographer,” she suggested. “I’m going to go see if there are any other last minute things to take care of.”

“Last minute things?” Samantha asked, a grin spreading across her face. Elaine shooed her off.

“Honestly, Samantha,” Elaine said. Samantha smiled to herself, whispered something to Cindy, her soon-to-be sister, which set them both to giggles.

“Come on, girls,” Beth announced, heading toward the back of the house and to the spacious yard and gardens beyond. As soon as the back door closed, Elaine did a hasty trip through the house, making sure nothing had been forgotten, and then did a quick check on her make up in the bathroom mirror before leaving the house and nearly running into a very surprised Brad Townsend on the front porch.

“Brad,” Elaine said, stopping up short and jumping as the screen door slammed metallically behind her.

He paused, looking from her to the door and back to her. “Mrs. Griffen.”

“Elaine,” she corrected.

“Elaine,” he echoed.

She smiled at him politely as the uncomfortable silence settled down on the porch. He assumed he had not been expected, and she knew little of his involvement with her daughter. Both were out of the loop, but Elaine could set the wheels in motion toward fixing that.

“You must be looking for Ashleigh,” she said, breaking the silence. He looked at her, confusion evident. He failed to speak. Elaine was beginning to think he was quite charming when he had no clue what to say.

“She left a few minutes ago to head up to the ceremony,” Elaine went on, pointing toward the gathering mass of people further up the hill.

“I,” he started and stopped.

“Ashleigh happened to mention that she’d invited you,” Elaine said, then motioned to the stairs. “Shall we? I’m sure we can find her. Two pairs of eyes are better than one, after all.”

“Sure,” he said, hesitating slightly as she stepped around him and descending the stairs, a small smile on her face as she went. She glanced sideways at him as soon as he quickly fell into step with her, and the silence descended again for the walk up the grassy incline.

“I was very sorry to hear about Townsend Acres,” Elaine said, attempting a conversation that didn’t involve her daughter. Whatever Ashleigh had with Brad would clearly be a convoluted and lengthy discussion she wanted no part of – yet.

“Thank you,” Brad said, walking next to her down the plowed path that cut through the knee high grass.

“I know Ashleigh was disappointed by the news,” Elaine went on. “But it’s been such a long time since she even visited Wonder or the others at Townsend Acres I have a feeling losing them completely won’t be as hard on her as it might have been before.”

He gave her a hard look, one Elaine didn’t know what to take from, and then nodded. “I’m sure,” was all he said.

They walked down the beaten down path, entering a shady glen that had been prepared perfectly for the ceremony. White chairs, ribbons, flowers, two girls playing airy notes on silver plated flutes. Elaine smiled, and instantly picked out Ashleigh. It was hard not to notice her with Caroline talking animatedly by her side. Ashleigh looked like she wanted a swift rescue, and Elaine aimed to provide at least that.

“Ah, there she is,” she said, swooping masterfully down the last few steps of the path and snagging Caroline’s wrist.

“Caroline,” Elaine whispered, “I need you to attend to something for me.”

“What could possibly be needed…?” Caroline began to protest, and then caught sight of what had drawn Ashleigh’s attention away from her family’s shenanigans. Her face darkened, but she allowed herself to be drawn away.

Elaine didn’t spare a look behind her. She’d done her motherly duty, and she’d ask questions later. Finding where Derek, Rory and Justin had staked out seats, Elaine pointed Caroline in their direction and quietly commanded her daughter to sit.

[syrinx]

5. Samantha

The reception was held in the grassy lawn along the main broodmare paddock, the round white tables all covered in flowers and tea lights that had not yet been lit. The huge tent covered the area, twinkle lights hanging from the eves and swaying in the light breeze of the perfect day. Samantha sat at the table for the wedding party, rotating a glass of white wine in her hands and thinking about how this, in many ways, resembled her dream wedding.

Although this wasn’t her day, and it wasn’t as if she had a boyfriend to justify dreaming about weddings anyway. She’d had greater ambitions, or so she once had thought. Curiously she searched over the mass chaos of the reception area, finding the couple she was still having a hard time recognizing. Ashleigh was sipping on a glass of red wine, listening to something Brad was telling her while they both looked off in another direction. They were both smiling.

Samantha narrowed her eyes, trying to find whatever they were looking at. She gave up soon after trying, preferring to watch them instead. It was impossible to not stare, and in many ways Samantha completely understood why neither had said anything for so long. Nearly three quarters of the guests were giving them the same looks Samantha was sporting, and she had to hand it to Ashleigh and Brad; they certainly looked like they didn’t even care.

Sipping at her wine, Samantha watched her best friend and this man she realized with a sudden jolt she hardly knew. She wondered how she hadn’t known, how she’d been so blind. The way they looked at each other, it seemed so plain and clear as day. Maybe Ashleigh had just been excellent at deception. Perhaps Samantha hadn’t known what to look for. How could she? She’d been too busy emulating Ashleigh's dedication to the horses to notice that she’d been getting it all wrong.

Finally, Elaine drew Ashleigh’s attention away, pulling her several feet from Brad, who had Ashleigh’s empty glass and was on his way back to the line for the bar. Quickly, without really knowing what she would do when she got there, Samantha got up and poured the contents of her wine glass onto the grass by her chair. Then she hurried through the tables and around guests to meet him.

“Hi,” she said, a little too forcefully, surprising him and feeling like she could have run straight into him and intentionally kicked him in the shins to get the same reaction. “Hi,” she softened her voice, trying to appear less obvious and more casual.

“Samantha,” he said, looking down at her with a bemused expression. She smiled at him and cleared her throat when he started to look away. He gave her a look, knowing what she wanted to talk about before she could push herself into starting the conversation. This was all very strange; Samantha was starting to see already how difficult it must have been for Ashleigh for all that time. Now that she thought about it, there was really no way Samantha would have believed Ashleigh to begin with. Looking up at Brad…nope, no way.

“So, well,” Samantha sputtered, then stopped, trying to pull herself together. “Ashleigh told us that you two were…”

“Right,” Brad said when she trailed off, unable to find the right words. “It’s a long story.”

“I bet,” Samantha laughed, finding the sound absurd. She clamped her mouth shut and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to tell herself to either just shut up and leave the line or compose herself and find out what she wanted to know. Right now? She was acting like a complete loon. That had to be stopped.

“Well, Ashleigh told me a little about the story,” Samantha said, speaking slowly so as to not rush over words. She was too excited, too impatient to know everything. She felt like she was talking to a four-year-old with a hearing difficulty in her attempt to keep from speaking too fast. “I have to admit that I’m really surprised. Like, well, shocked. I had no clue.”

“You didn’t?” Brad asked, as though this was news to him too.

“Did I ever look like I did?” Samantha asked in return, tipping her head to the side quizzically. “Not that it matters. I didn’t. She never told me.”

“I figured,” Brad said. “It’s not as if I told anyone either.”

“Why is that, exactly?” Samantha asked.

“Besides the obvious?”

“Well.”

“We were never together in any official sense of the word,” Brad shrugged. “So there was never anything to say.”

Samantha looked at him. “You never told anyone.”

“Is it that hard to believe?”

“I,” Samantha paused. “I really have no idea.”

“I think you’re starting to get it,” Brad smiled.

“So what now?” Samantha asked. “You’re each other’s date at a wedding and what next?”

“Samantha,” Brad said, moving forward in the line and asking for another red wine. “Isn’t Ashleigh providing you with these answers?”

“No,” Samantha said, leaving out how she was conveniently not asking Ashleigh those questions. “Maybe Ashleigh doesn’t know the answers anyway.”

“Then I suppose that puts us all in the same boat,” Brad said, taking the refilled glass and glancing out at the crowd, where Ashleigh was talking with Elaine and casting worried glances back at them. Samantha smiled and waved at her. Ashleigh nodded and smiled, then turned to her mother to say something Samantha couldn’t make out.

Brad stepped away from the table, nearly getting away before Samantha could order another glass of wine and hurry after him. “Brad,” she called, stopping him. He looked down at her, and she gave him an apologetic half-smile that died quickly. “Do you, you know…”

“Samantha,” he said, “you’re her good friend, right?”

“Her best,” Samantha proclaimed, the pride of that statement swelling in her chest almost painfully. This was protection, she realized somewhat belatedly. She wanted to protect, and she was doing a pretty shoddy job. Still, she was trying.

“Then know that my intentions are good,” Brad told her.

“That wasn’t exactly what I was going to ask,” Samantha said, shifting her weight on her feet, nervous and put on the spot. She’d never bring it up again now, even though she had a feeling he already knew what she had tried to aim for.

“I know,” he replied, and then headed back toward Ashleigh, drinks in both hands.

[horselover]

Great to see this posted here.

[syrinx]

6. Mike

There were few instances in Michael Reese’s life where he could remember being late. Certainly he’d never been the flakey type; in fact he was almost annoyingly punctual (at least, that was what Rebecca always told him). Arriving in the middle of Ian and Beth’s wedding ceremony hadn’t been intentional, or even planned, but when good friends unintentionally scheduled their wedding on the same day as one of the biggest bankruptcy auctions in the history of the bluegrass, well, allowances had to be made.

He remembered slipping into the chair next to Rebecca and reaching for her hand – the one showing off the newly bestowed diamond engagement ring – right in the middle of the vows. He’d asked Rebecca what he’d missed, and she’d said something about Brad Townsend and Ashleigh Griffen and right about there his train of thought careened right off its tracks and off a cliff for the amount of gaping he did. Rebecca had asked him if he was all right. He hadn’t really known what to say.

“How long has this been going on?” Mike asked, sitting at their table during the reception. The couple in question -- which seemed wrong, considering they were at a wedding and that couple wasn’t getting nearly as much attention -- was in the middle of reuniting, Brad with drinks and Ashleigh happily accepting. Mike looked at this as if it were a very messy painting that demanded attention. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep staring at it, but there was no way he could look away.

“I don’t know,” Rebecca said, picking a tart off her plate and nibbling at it. “You’ve been staring at them on and off for the better part of an hour, you know.”

“So is everyone else,” Mike pointed out.

“Some people,” Rebecca said, consuming the tart and looking at him. “Mike, what is the big deal? They look happy together.”

“They hate each other,” Mike stated, although that couldn’t possibly be. He stared at them some more.

“Obviously not,” Rebecca smiled, turning to look at them over her shoulder.

“Hold on a second,” Mike said, watching Samantha wind her way through tables and holding a glass of wine in one hand. She was frowning at the grass. “Sammy!”

Looking up, Samantha smiled fleetingly at him and wound her way over to them, sitting in the empty chair next to Rebecca. She took a healthy sip of the wine and exhaled.

“So I guess you want information,” Samantha said, putting the glass on the table in front of her.

“Well,” Mike shrugged, suddenly at a loss for words.

“He wants to know everything,” Rebecca informed her, smiling at Mike above her wine glass. “He just doesn’t want to admit to caring that much.”

“Oh,” Samantha said, filling them in.

“And you didn’t know?” Mike asked.

“No one knew,” Samantha said.

“Are they…”

“I don’t know,” Samantha shrugged before Mike could finish. “I don’t think they know.”

“Should I talk to her?” Mike asked.

“And say what?” Rebecca asked. Samantha seconded that query with a dry look.

“It just doesn’t seem…”

“Look, the way I see it,” Samantha cut in, “if they were looking for someone to tell them why not to do what they’re doing, they would have been more open about this a long time ago. I know this doesn’t seem normal, but then it’s not my place to tell them what normal is. Normal could very well be this right now.”

“But,” Mike sighed. He looked at Ashleigh. He remembered being attracted to her, feeling protective of her and her interests. He’d kept up the big brother routine from a distance when she moved, calling her to check in and e-mailing rather consistently. Mike supposed it was easy to do that now, since he assumed she’d always been by herself. As ridiculous as it felt, he looked at Brad and saw nothing but a threat to her and her future. The nagging urge to do something, to intervene, was coursing through him. Rebecca looked at him like he was insane.

“She’s right, Mike,” Rebecca told him, to the point as always. “Ashleigh’s a big girl and she can handle herself. Now let’s go get some food.”

Samantha smiled at him, and he wordlessly got up to follow his fiancé.

7. Justin

Caroline had been talking his ear off since the ceremony and every other sentence out of her mouth seemed to involve the words “Brad” or “asshole.” He took it all in stride, listening to her ongoing tirade and weathering it as best he could without telling her to calm down. Telling Caroline to calm down was like poking a rattlesnake with a stick. One didn’t just do that without knowing the consequences.

So he let Caroline talk, and he listened quietly and sipped on his beer a little aggressively and for the most part that’s how most of the reception went. She talked, he drank his beer, and eventually the inevitable happened.

“She’s just not listening to me,” Caroline complained, walking up to him and standing next to his shoulder, beginning to lean into his side. She looked tired.

“She’s your little sister,” Justin told her. “She’s built to not listen to you.”

Caroline sighed. “I just want to know…”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around.”

She pinched his arm and he smiled, letting her settle her head against his shoulder.

“Maybe you can talk to Brad for me,” she said and was rewarded with the most incredulous look he could muster.

“What purpose would that possibly serve?” he asked. She looked up at him, all dew eyes and pleading tone of voice.

“I just want to know why Ashleigh,” she said. Justin felt a frown at the corners of his mouth.

“Why Ashleigh?” he echoed questioningly. “Caro, that’s not a question I’m asking him.”

“But, Just—“

“Sorry,” he shook his head, nudging her gently to rouse her and lift her weight off his body. She moved grudgingly. “If you want to know, march yourself over and ask.”

“Aren’t you at all curious?” she asked him.

He looked at his wife, her perfectly painted nails and hair and dress and her round stomach in which she carried their son. He loved her enough to do whatever she asked, and she smiled at him, thinking she’d gotten him at last.

“Nope,” he said, smiling when she groaned. “Get on with you. March.”

8. Brad

There were times over the past few years that he’d wondered what it would have been like to be with Ashleigh in every sense of the word. He wondered what would have happened had they not limited themselves to secrets and been able to keep all those doors they’d slammed shut open to the outside world. He imagined it would have been difficult no matter what, and a part of him always thought he’d been spared the embarrassment of prodding, curious friends and family. At one point he thought that should have been something he counted as a blessing.

Well, he thought. No more. In a matter of hours they’d gone from a secret, barely there affair to the social explosion of the past decade and what should have been mortifying to both Ashleigh and himself he found liberating and fantastic, if not confusing. If everyone around him was baffled by the mere notion of what had been happening between Ashleigh and him for so long, he was truly bewildered by why Ashleigh had chosen now to make everything known.

He leaned against the fence of the broodmare paddock, silently trying to sort everything out. She was still in the midst of things, talking and answering queries as fast as they were asked of her. Brad had no idea what she was saying, if she was lying or telling any sort of truth, and frankly he didn’t really give a shit about it. Every so often she’d raise her head and glance out at the fence line, catch his eyes with hers and smile.

Preoccupied with watching her, he didn’t notice the approaching side assault. It was only the crunch of grass under foot that alerted him, and by then it was too late. He glanced to the left and there she was.

“Caroline,” he said, trying to make it sound like a greeting, although it sounded more like a statement of fact. Yes, this was Caroline. The corner of her lip lifted in an impressive attempt at a sneer, but it didn’t reach her eyes. He realized then that this was probably her last ditch attempt at understanding. Ashleigh probably hadn’t been very helpful.

“Hello,” she said. She didn’t say his name. He shifted against the boards of the fence and gave her his attention. It was the least he could do.

“I assume we can skip around the supposedly friendly conversation starter,” Brad said, giving her an opening when she seemed to hesitate. The moment he spoke she hardened and looked up at him with flashing eyes.

“You assume correctly,” she stated, crossing her arms over her chest. He glanced down at her, wondered how far along she was with the baby and for some reason felt suddenly intimidated. Being talked down to by an ex-girlfriend was one thing. Being talked down to by a married, pregnant ex-girlfriend whose sister he was sort of sleeping with and would look absolutely stunning if she didn’t seem so pissed off was another matter. He didn’t know how to handle this. He could hardly expect to. This Caroline was a completely different creature than the Caroline he had known.

“So what are your questions?” he asked tiredly, maybe sounding a little like a dick. That’s what defensiveness sounded like with him, he realized. Ashleigh had never taken it well; Caroline had always taken it worse.

Her demeanor changed again; from hesitant to hard to confrontational.

“Here’s one,” she spat. “Just how long was it between when you broke up with me and when you decided you wanted to fuck my baby sister?”

He had to hand it to her. He winced just a little bit, but it didn’t stop him from taking that lying down. “Low blow, Caro,” he said, turning to her. “I didn’t know you had it in you to be that ridiculous.”

“How long?” Caroline demanded. He couldn’t help but smile. Hell, he was having a hard time stopping himself from laughing.

“This isn’t about you, Caroline,” he pointed out.

“You’re right,” Caroline said. “It’s not about me. However, it is about Ashleigh, so kindly answer the damned question.”

“You’re trying to paint me as a predator, am I getting that right?” he asked, hard pressed not to be offended. He remembered clear as day when he ended his relationship with Caroline, and he remembered even better – as if in high definition – the argument he’d had with Ashleigh about it later. She’d been fourteen at the time, and looked barely old enough to qualify for that age. The thought of what Caroline suggested made him want to heave, despite the three year difference in their ages and despite the fact that it probably wouldn’t have been so odd then. Nevertheless, no. He hadn’t even afforded Ashleigh a second glance then.

“I’m not trying to do anything,” Caroline persisted. “I just want to know the answer. When did all of this start?”

“On her end?” he asked, starting intentionally with Ashleigh and making Caroline flinch. She didn’t want to hear that Ashleigh had any part in this. “Just after her twenty-first birthday. On mine? Two years previous to that.”

Caroline blinked, silent for a second as she considered him. She was making an effort to keep her breathing even. “So nearly five years,” she finally said.

“Three,” he corrected her. “The time only counts if it’s reciprocal, Caro.”

“Reciprocal,” Caroline said, a laugh on the breath she exhaled. “That’s funny.”

“Funny, but true,” Brad said, annoyed and tired of all of this. “Are you done with the protective and vindictive sister routine? It’s getting old.”

“You’re not helping,” Caroline told him, the anger still there right below the surface.

“The last I checked I was standing over here minding my own business. You came up to me.”

“Still,” Caroline said, refusing to give up anything. “I had to know.”

“Yeah,” Brad said. She stared at him unflinchingly, arms still crossed and the very picture of disapproval. She seemed ready to ask her next question. Looking at her, he no longer felt obligated to answer her questions, and he pushed away from the fence.

“So, now you know,” he said over his shoulder, and left her standing by the fence line.

[syrinx]

9. Ashleigh

The sun was all orange and bright on the western horizon, dipping slowly toward the carelessly rolling Kentucky hills. Ashleigh didn’t know what time it was, but somehow it felt as though the wedding had started years ago. If the sun burning in the sky was any indication, it would be dark in the next hour and the party would start winding to a close. Then she truly wouldn’t know what she was doing.

She was aware of what she had done similar to how anyone is aware of the pain after ripping off a bandage. The afternoon felt like a rotating interrogation, with the only people truly keeping mum about the news being her parents, Samantha and, of course, Brad. Everyone else had had their turn with questions, if not their turn with giving her enough confused expressions to last her a lifetime of odd decisions.

Still, there was no part of her that regretted what she’d done. The problem, as far as she could see, was determining why she’d done it. Why shout the truth to the heavens when there wouldn’t be a relationship to speak truth about in a month’s time? Was there a relationship now? What was the point in telling everyone about something that was, in their own words, only a set of intimate good byes?

Ashleigh walked down the fence line of the broodmare paddock, headed toward the main barn, with a frown of concentration on her face and a long piece of grass twirling between her fingers. Brad was no where to be seen, most likely off taking a breather he most likely desperately needed, and Ashleigh was set to do the same. When she walked off the grass and toward the gravel lot before the barn, she stopped when she saw her father taking Wonder out to the paddock.

“Dad,” she called, waving him down. He stopped the mare and waited on her, handing Ashleigh the lead rope when she arrived.

“Taking a break from the guests?” she asked him, falling into step together on their way to the gate.

“I could ask you the same question,” he replied, nodding. “Only, I suspect I wouldn’t need to.”

“You wouldn’t,” Ashleigh agreed. “I’m pretty tired of all the looks. You were putting Wonder in the field?”

“For the rest of the day,” Derek replied. “We might as well let her enjoy herself for whatever daylight remains.”

“Thanks,” Ashleigh said, approaching the gate and letting him open it, leading the mare inside and then loose. Wonder snorted and tossed her head back, giving the expansive enclosure a quick scan before taking off at a trot and finally settling to graze under a copse of trees. Ashleigh looped the lead rope into one hand and walked back out of the gate, handing her father the leather line.

“So how are things?” Derek asked after a second of watching the small band of mares, most pregnant but hardly showing. Ashleigh gave him a wary side glance.

“Not you too,” she sighed, and he laughed.

“I hardly created the situation,” he reminded her.

“I know,” Ashleigh said. “It was all my doing. I admit it.”

“Any regret to that decision?” he asked her. Ashleigh shook her head.

“No,” she said. “It’s the oddest thing, but no.”

“Well, you’ve certainly caused some chaos today,” Derek chuckled. “I don’t think your sister is on the fast path to forgiving you.”

“I’m not interested in hurting Caroline’s feelings,” Ashleigh said tightly, annoyed with her older sister and finding that she was uninterested in hiding it.

“She has her reasons,” Derek said. “You’re walking down a path she feels she’s been on…”

“It’s not the same path,” Ashleigh broke in. “It just happens to be with the same person.”

“She won’t see that,” Derek said. “Give her some time and she’ll come around.”

For some reason Ashleigh doubted that. She knew the history more than most. Hell, she’d used the history to her advantage more than a few times. She’d thrown it in Brad’s face to even out the playing field on enough occasions. If anything she’d abused it enough and was tired of flinging it around. Caroline was dragging it back up, and while Ashleigh didn’t fault her sister for that, she still refused to listen and stubbornly pushed for her own ending.

Ashleigh smiled to herself, having to admit they were most definitely sisters.

“So what are you going to do with Wonder?” Derek asked, switching the subject. He was never one to dwell on things he had no control over. Ashleigh had to respect and love that about him now.

“Probably take her to Mill Ridge with Goddess,” Ashleigh said. “I don’t know when, though.”

“She’s free to stay here as long as she likes,” Derek said. “We have the space. I’m actually taking on one of Brad’s horses to board this week. Her Majesty?”

“It’s the only horse he’s keeping,” Ashleigh nodded, struck again with the reminder that he was leaving soon. Their drawn out good bye would be ending with a flight to England in August, after everything was complete with Townsend Acres. It seemed too quick. Townsend Acres was too prominent, too important to be packaged up and sold with barely the flick of an auctioneer’s wrist. Yet it had been.

“You know,” Derek said, squinting out at the pasture, which was glowing brilliantly in the late afternoon light. “He mentioned having picked something up at the auction.”

“Did he?” Ashleigh asked. “What was it?”

“Didn’t mention to me what,” Derek said. “I’m sure you’ll find it on the sales results later.”

She nodded, wondering what it could have been to tempt him into buying something back from the farm. It could have been anything. One of the Prince’s foals, one of Lord Ainsley’s, one of Wonder’s? There really was no telling with Brad.

“Speak of the devil,” Derek said, nodding up the fence. Brad was walking toward them, dark hair and suit coat rustling in the warm breeze. Derek patted her on the back, and Ashleigh ducked her head, glancing out through the golden light at Brad. Then she walked out toward him.

[syrinx]

10. Cindy

She sat at the table next to her mother’s empty seat, swinging her legs and sipping at her soda, generally relieved that the ceremony was over although she hadn’t done much other than walk down the aisle and stand with a bouquet in her hands. The reception was boring, but Cindy could handle boring. It was what happened after that she wasn’t sure about. Moving into a new house and living with a new sister and father . . . the very idea was as alien as when her mother had told her she was going to start dating again.

What did make up for all the nerves and second thoughts about how well she could handle these changes was the opportunity to work with horses. Her new father trained Thoroughbreds, and while the most contact she’d had with horses was limited to her beginner’s lessons on her mother’s modest salary, she was still horse crazy enough to think up wild scenarios with the horses her new dad would train. Perhaps he’d let her groom them, or maybe even ride them! Cindy sighed contentedly, plotting out the next years of her life in such a fashion that she could hardly stop herself.

When she was sixteen, she imagined being a jockey and wearing the bright silks on race days. Or perhaps she’d grow too tall (she guessed that was possible) and became like her new dad, or like Samantha, or maybe like Ashleigh, whom Sammy had told her all about in a kind of mythic way that had made Cindy eager to know what this Ashleigh Griffen was like.

She’d gotten more than she had bargained for. Cindy could see Ashleigh out by the fence that separated the broodmare pasture from the house’s back yard. She could see her talking to the tall man everyone had been staring at and talking about behind his back. Ashleigh was smiling, flicked a piece of grass to the ground, and said something that couldn’t be heard from where she sat.

There had been a lot of talk about a lot of history that Cindy didn’t understand. Something about a horse and a sister and a place called Townsend Acres (where she knew her new dad had trained) and about how everyone didn’t know what to make of it. Cindy watched with no presumptions, sipping at her soda while the two walked hand in hand across the grass. The wind was playing in Ashleigh’s hair, drawing it across her face in twisting tresses that she pushed away impatiently.

Before they could get to the tent, Brad stalled suddenly, tugging her back by one of the old oak trees that lined the fence and shaded the nearby tent. The sun was almost down, obscuring them partially from Cindy’s vision, although the twinkle lights cast everything with a warm glow that caught their outlines. The band started a slow song, and, if Cindy squinted just right, she thought she could see them dancing on the grass near the tree.

“How are you doing, Cin?” Ian asked, making her jump and lose her focus. She looked up and smiled at him. He looked happy; his tie was loose and his suit coat was no where to be seen. Cindy glanced at the makeshift dance floor, seeing her mother spinning around with Derek Griffen. “How about a dance?”

She really didn’t know how to react. She’d never danced with anyone before, so she managed to stammer, “I don’t really know how.”

“Well, just follow my feet,” Ian laughed, giving her his hand and drawing her out of the chair. “Just don’t step on them,” he added with a wink. Cindy managed a smile, wondering if this was her first chance to ask about helping with the horses. She wondered what he’d say, but she knew he was fair and nice so she hoped he’d say yes. He walked with her to the dance floor and Cindy tried not to step on his feet, failing a couple of times while her questions remained suck to the top of her mouth. She smiled anyway, rotating around near the edge of the group of dancers.

When they moved so she could see the old oak, she noticed that Ashleigh and Brad were no longer there. She gave the crowd a quick scan, the dancers, the fence . . . and came away with nothing. She wondered where they could have gone. Then Ian spun her around and she erupted in laughter, letting them slip from her thoughts as she forgot.

[syrinx]

11. Ashleigh

They left the Griffen Breeding Farm just after sunset. The sky was a smudge of blues and purples, darkening each minute, and Ashleigh stared up at it through the open window of the rental car. The hot summer air tore through her hair relentlessly, and she had to tie it all back to keep it out of her face. She stared out the window until she found the evening star, shining brightly in the west. The moon would rise soon.

Brad drove the rental car down one of the well used Kentucky back roads, Ashleigh sitting in the passenger seat and her hair whipping around her head, despite being tied back. They didn’t say much at all during the drive, simply spending their time looking out the windows, reminding themselves of a place she had already left and a place he would soon have to leave behind.

Finally, turning and driving besides a white fence and sprawling paddocks, Brad slowed the car and pulled it off to the side of the road. Ashleigh looked over at him while he turned off the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition. The windows remained down.

“Are you ready?” Ashleigh asked.

He nodded. “Let’s go.”

She smiled and reached down to the floorboard, picking up the bottle of champagne they’d taken from the wedding reception and the two disposable Dixie cups that Ashleigh had found in the wreck of her mother’s kitchen. Handing Brad the bottle, she climbed out of the car and picked through the overgrown grass on the side of the road, arriving at the mowed lane outside the fence. Brad followed, nearly tripping over a stick as Ashleigh giggled and reached for his hand.

“Careful there,” she said, and he stopped by her side and let go of her hand.

“Yeah, leave it to me to almost break the ceremonial champagne,” he said, and she huffed.

“That is not ceremonial,” Ashleigh pointed out. “It’s drinkable.”

“Should I be limiting your intake, Griffen?” he asked.

“Oh, please,” she stated. “I’ve had two glasses of wine and this whole thing was my idea, remember. I’ll have as many Dixie cups of champagne as I want.”

“Did you have to get Dixie cups?” Brad asked, popping the champagne to Ashleigh’s enthused clapping.

“Shut up,” Ashleigh laughed, holding out the brightly patterned cups. “They’re recyclable.”

“Glass is washable,” he said.

“I didn’t want to take anything that would be missed,” Ashleigh reasoned, watching Brad pour the champagne into her Dixie cup.

“In that house?” he asked. “Ash, you could lose a small toddler in there right now.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ashleigh said. “My mom would be the only person able to stand in the wreck of her house right now and just know there were two missing glasses in the cupboard.”

“Your mom has screwed up priorities,” Brad said, pouring his own champagne. “Here her daughter is missing and she’s worried about glasses?”

“It’s just one scenario,” Ashleigh said as he put the bottle down, resting it against a fencepost.

“Okay,” he said, turning to her. Ashleigh raised her glass. “To the place I called home for twenty-six years, the horses we won and lost with, and the futures we could have had.”

“To Townsend Acres,” Ashleigh said, tapping the edge of her Dixie cup to Brad’s.

“To Townsend Acres,” he echoed, and they sipped their champagne.

It was quiet. Ashleigh looked out at the farm, the barns sitting silently off in the distance. The mansion could just be seen behind a grove of trees, the private stable and the guest house further off and mostly hidden but for their roofs. From their place by the fence she couldn’t see her old house, the modest former family residence before Clay’s father had built the larger brick home further from the stables. Ashleigh searched for it and could not find it, deciding she was glad she couldn’t. She might have cried then.

“I’m sorry, you know,” Ashleigh said, finishing off her champagne and holding the cup between her hands. He looked over at her.

“Yeah, well it was one of those things we all saw coming,” Brad said. “Everyone always says that makes it easier somehow.”

“Is it not?” Ashleigh asked. She’d decided not to ask how entangled he was in the fall out. He acted as if there was nothing to worry about, had actually bought something at his father’s bankruptcy auction, and was moving to England like a move of such magnitude cost nothing. She was impatient to know what would happen, to know everything, but was scared of it at the same time.

These are goodbyes, she told herself as she looked at him, waiting for him to speak. She couldn’t ask the difficult questions. She wasn’t a friend, she wasn’t a lover; she was a set of twisted sheets and incoherent arguments she hated to remember.

“It happened,” he said, picking up the champagne and refilling their cups. “How or when doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”

“No,” Ashleigh said, wondering if it really did matter. If Townsend Acres had gone bankrupt years ago none of the history with Brad would have happened. If it stayed strong, overcoming the obstacles, she would have stayed in New York and Brad would have inherited the farm, their paths all together separate still. Instead it had stumbled, had fallen, allowing them a brief interlude. Maybe that was all they were, Ashleigh thought. An interlude.

“Where are you staying in England?” Ashleigh asked, sipping her refilled champagne and watching the fireflies come alive in the pasture, dancing like tiny lanterns in the overgrown grass.

“I have a friend in Kensington,” Brad said. “I can stay there and look for a place until things are settled.”

“How long is that supposed to take?” Ashleigh asked, busy watching the fireflies, telling herself not to look at him.

“Settling the farm could take years,” Brad said in the darkness. “Settling in Kensington will depend on me.”

Ashleigh nodded, taking the vague answers as a hint that he didn’t want to talk about it. She drank the rest of her champagne and looked at the bottle. Four Dixie cups had barely made a dent in it, but all of a sudden she didn’t want any more.

“I should take you home,” Brad said, looking at his watch. It was well past nine. The reception was over. Ashleigh nodded to herself, knowing that’s where she should go.

“I don’t want to go home,” she said, turning to Brad and keeping one shaky hand firmly pressed against the top rail of the fence. He looked at her. “In fact,” she said, “I’m not going to go home tonight.”

“Aren’t you,” Brad said, considering her for a long moment as she stood in front of him, the night breeze ruffling her dress.

“No,” she said seriously, determinedly. “I’m not.”

“Well,” he said, picking up the champagne bottle and handing her the keys. “Lead the way.”

[horselover]

So glad to see you are posting this on this board. I'm really enjoying this fanfic.

[syrinx]

This is the last bit. More in the form of a sequel will follow!

12. Brad

He knew where she was going. Well, he had a feeling he knew where she was going, and when she pulled up in front of his hotel he wasn’t surprised. She took the champagne bottle from him and turned off the engine.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I thought I was following you?” he returned.

She looked at him.

“Room 512,” he said after a second. She nodded and opened her door, handing him the keys before she climbed out and smoothed her hand over the skirt of her dress.

She was quiet on the way up to the room, and shifted her weight from heel to heel while he rummaged for the room key in his wallet and finally found it shoved between a credit card he kept meaning to cancel and a hundred dollar bill he’d forgotten about. When he opened the door the air conditioning burst into the hallway and she shivered, holding the champagne bottle closer to her chest.

“Sorry,” he said, and she shrugged. They moved into the room and he turned off the whirring air conditioner, plunging the room into an awkward silence. She put the champagne bottle down on the dresser and looked at him over her shoulder, offering a smile he felt might be a silent thank you. Or nonchalance. Or nervousness. Or maybe that was just him, because suddenly he couldn’t wait to get on that plane. She was starting to confuse the hell out of him.

“This is nice,” Ashleigh suddenly said, picking up one of the glasses and pulled off the paper cover, pouring some of the champagne into the glass and taking a sip.

“It’s standard, Ash,” he said. She glanced at him, a small smile touching the corner of her mouth before she looked down at her glass.

“We should, um, get some ice. The champagne is getting warm.”

It was at least ninety degrees outside. The champagne was probably well past warm, but nerves or not he couldn’t force himself to walk near enough to her to pick up the plastic bin and leave the room. Besides, he didn’t care. The champagne could go ahead and be warm.

He pulled off his jacket, tossing it on the armchair that took up the corner of the room near the air conditioner. Then he unbuttoned the dress shirt, and sent it in the general direction of where the jacket had landed. He pulled at the hem of his t-shirt until it was loose from the waistband of his pants and then ran his fingers through his hair. There, he’d managed to get more comfortable. He wished he could turn the A/C back on, but Ashleigh stood there in that dress that clung to her, baring so much skin that he didn’t dare.

She slipped her feet out of her shoes, losing three inches immediately. Then she blushed.

“As long as we’re getting more comfortable,” she said, taking another sip of the champagne. He realized that she was getting the wrong message, so he removed his clothes from the absurdly large armchair and plunked himself down on it. He didn’t say anything. Instead he just leaned into the cushions and tried not to stare at her while she pulled the band from her hair and put it carefully next to her glass.

Her hair was a mess. Twisted, windblown, a whole mass of disheveled curls that he desperately wanted to dig his hands into and…that’s where he lost his train of thought because she was looking at him again.

“I want to ask you something,” she said quietly. “You can say no, of course. It’s not like I expect that the next month, or even the next few years, even, is going to be really easy on you.”

He smiled a little. That was really the understatement of his life.

“So I will completely understand if it’s too much,” she said, walking slowly down the length of the dresser, trailing her fingers along the edge of the wood. “I also want to say beforehand that this isn’t about your going to England.”

He just looked up at her, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. She looked down at him and took a deep breath, stopping so close to him that the hem of her dress brushed at his fingers. “Actually,” she said, shaking her head. “It does have to do with England. It’s just that I’m not prepared to say goodbye when we never really tried to know each other.”

“Ash,” he sighed, and she shook her head before he could continue. Before he could say you know me better than anyone.

“I want to ask you to stay with me in New York before you go,” she said. “Visit, stay, whatever. For as long as you want, for as little as you want. Just so that in the end I’ll, we’ll, be able to know this didn’t happen for lack of trying.”

He reached the miniscule distance to touch her fingers and draw her hand between his. She looked at him for a trembling moment before allowing him to pull her toward him.

Sometime later she was curled up next to him. The room was quiet except for their breathing. The comforter was kicked to the floor, leaving behind a sheet that was partially being useful. His fingers were tangled in her hair as she kissed him.

“You know,” she said against his lips, “I do need an answer. I think it’s considered impolite to ignore invitations.”

“Technically, I don’t think this is ignoring,” he said, kissing her again until she pinched him in retaliation. He grabbed her hand, taking the opportunity to roll her on to her back. She squirmed underneath him, putting her free hand against his chest and then up into his hair to bring his mouth down to hers when she tired of his smirking.

It occurred to him then that he was probably the stupidest man on the face of the earth. The woman he’d been chasing longer than he cared to admit was doing exactly what he’d dreamed she’d do and he was…what? Ignoring her. Turning his back. Flying to another country, where he intended to stay. It wasn’t that he wanted to leave, but every time he found himself relenting, found the words come with me stuck to the tip of his tongue, he had to swallow the bitterness and realize that it wasn’t time yet. She wasn’t his, he wasn’t hers, not yet. Perhaps not ever. What had he told her?

Aren’t meant to be.

God, he was the stupidest man on the face of the fucking earth. But he could make his amends, if briefly.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay, what?” she asked, brushing her nose against his and kissing him again, putting up a completely unbelievable front. He ran a hand down her ribcage and to a spot he knew was ticklish, causing a satisfying shriek and an unexpected tumble off the bed.

Hitting the carpet with a thud, Ashleigh fell half on top of him, laughing and resting her forehead against his chest, her dark hair in chaos over her face. She pushed her hair back and sat up enough to see if he was okay, leaning over him as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Is this falling off the bed thing an issue with you?” he asked, pushing himself up on his elbows.

“Admittedly, I wouldn’t know,” Ashleigh said. “In my defense, it’s only happened twice. I wouldn’t call it a pattern.”

“I guess it remains to be seen,” Brad said, pushing a remaining lock of hair out of her eyes.

“Does it,” Ashleigh said after a beat. “How do you figure?”

“What I’m saying, Ash, is if I’m yours for the course of August, I imagine we’ll eventually find out what is behind your insane preference for floors.”

“I have no insane preference for floors,” she replied, rolling her eyes. He raised his eyebrows at her, and she let a smile spread over her lips. “So, August, huh?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “August.”

She kissed him quickly on the lips and scrambled to her feet, helping him off the floor. He stood up, suddenly towering over her, and then eased her back onto the bed as she laughed and sent the rumpled sheet billowing on a pocket of air above them.

[horselover]

What an amazing chapter. Great writing. I'm sad this story is over, but I'm looking forward to the sequel.