The Son & His Hope Page 5

  The first time it let me touch his dirty head, my heart was heavy and light and hurting and happy all at once. I hated what he’d been through, but I was glad he was with me now. It hurt thinking about his hardship but I was grateful to be able to fix it.

  For three months, I smuggled food out for him. He still growled occasionally if I moved too suddenly, but in the end, he would lick my face all over and fall asleep with his head on my lap.

  When Dad found me, curled up with a feral stray on the night of the wrap party, I’d exploded into tears as he’d yanked me away. I wanted to keep the dog. We’d bonded. We’d built trust. We were friends. But he called the shelter, and they took him away.

  He promised they’d find him a good home. But I heard that some shelters killed unwanted animals. So the dog I saved became yet another victim of death that I couldn’t understand.

  That was how I felt about Jacob.

  I pitied him yet was grateful for him.

  I was wary of him but brave enough to face him.

  He might bite but only because he was afraid.

  Rolling his eyes, he broke the trance between us, muttering under his breath, “Nope.” Turning on his heel, he lifted a chap-wrapped leg to head back into the barn.

  “Oh, no you don’t, Jacob Wild. Come here. Meet your new student.” Cassie clicked her fingers as if he was some skittish horse and needed encouragement. “Come on. Don’t be rude.”

  Perhaps, I should’ve brought some carrots and apples, not to treat the ponies but to bribe Jacob to be my friend.

  His shoulders slumped before turning again and exhaling in a heavy puff. With hands balled, he stalked toward us.

  Even though I thought of him as a beaten stray, my skin still prickled with rejection.

  What had I done to annoy him so much?

  I’d barely said anything to him. So many days separated our first meeting. The only thing I’d done was told him my name so he wouldn’t forget me. What was so bad about that?

  Yes, his dad had died like my mom, and that sucked. But he was older. He knew more about the hows and whys than I did. He would have answers that I’d been denied.

  He should have it figured out.

  I’d stared at him that night, wondering if he held the secrets I needed. Hoping I could make him like me enough to share those secrets.

  But he’d just glared until my scalp prickled.

  When he’d moved to sit beside me, I’d wanted to whisper in his ear that Keeko read an article online about ghosts. I’d wanted to ask if he’d seen his dad’s ghost. I wanted to tell him I knew what it was like to be a kid and worry about the parent left behind.

  But then I caught the sad glisten in his eyes masked by cold anger—a look I knew well from Dad’s grief—and my pity ordered me to offer a hug.

  The same physical touch I’d offered the stray that’d growled and snarled and threatened to bite, but in the end, loved me as much as I loved him.

  But unlike the dog, Jacob looked repulsed.

  He glowered as if I’d done something unforgivable.

  A hug was something everyone wanted. It cured most things. Or at least, that was what Dad said. But to Jacob, I might as well have thrown those fancy-named ice creams in his face.

  Dust plumed around his boots as he came to a stop beside Cassie. His jaw worked before he forced politely, “Hello again, Hope Jacinta Murphy.”

  I beamed, despite my fear that I’d offended him. “You remembered.”

  “Told you I would, didn’t I?” His forehead furrowed before he looked at my dad, and his face blackened even more. “Graham.”

  Dad nodded, his back straightening like it did when he met well-connected directors.

  Huh, that’s strange.

  He gave respect to a grumpy kid instead of requesting he show better manners.

  I knew he’d played Jacob’s dead dad. I knew he liked his still alive mother. And I knew playing that part had changed him and not in a happy way.

  It’d reminded him of true love.

  That he’d lost it.

  And so had the woman called Ribbon.

  But still…to see him submit to a teenager was huge.

  “Jake. Good day for a ride.” Dad cleared his throat. “Nice weather.”

  “It’s Jacob. And yeah, it is.” Grabbing the bridle from Cassie’s shoulder, he fisted the whole thing in one hand. “Been looking all over for this.”

  “I was going to tack up Binky before Hope arrived.”

  “I’ll do it. The sooner we get the lesson done, the better.”

  “Whatever you want.” Cassie smirked, her gaze jumping from Jacob to me. “Take Hope with you.”

  “Next time.” He stalked off without looking at me.

  I refused to be so easily intimidated. I’d faced down a rabid starving mutt. I could face a snappish boy. Leaving Dad without a backward glance, I skipped to his side.

  His body tensed, his stride lengthening as if he could out run me.

  I just skipped faster. “Can I help?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because bridling isn’t something a beginner does.”

  “But how can I learn if I don’t do it?”

  “You’ll learn later. Once you’ve mastered the basics.” He strode faster, his chin tipped up and eyes narrowed against the sun.

  I kept pace, my heart twirling in happiness as we moved closer to the horses. “What are the basics?”

  “Other stuff.”

  “What other stuff?”

  “Stuff you’ll learn. Now git. Go back to your dad. Your horse isn’t ready yet.”

  “I want to watch.”

  He sighed heavily. “Why? I’m just gonna put his bridle on.”

  “I need to watch so next time I can do it.”

  “If there even is a next time. And besides, it’s not that easy.” He scowled down at me. He was rather tall; all legs and length. “You have to make sure not to clack their teeth with the bit, to thread their ears through the headstall, and to cinch the buckles to the right length.”

  “Okay. Got it.”

  “It’s not a matter of ‘getting it.’ It’s a matter of experience.”

  I smiled. “Experience you’ll teach me.”

  “Ugh.” He looked at the sky. “Fine.”

  “Great!” I clapped my hands as we approached the black and white big-butt thing, but then my smile fell as we skirted around it to a tiny white pony that had its nose almost touching the dirt, fast asleep.

  It was nothing like the black noble Pegasus I’d envisioned, flying over fields and through forests, the world a blur.

  “What’s that?” I planted hands on my hips.

  “What do you mean, what’s that?” Jacob laid his palm on the tiny pony’s rump, scratching him gently as he moved to its head.

  The horse blinked sleepily, lifting his long neck as if it was the biggest chore in the world.

  And then, it yawned.

  Yawned as if it would rather be in the paddock munching grass than about to create magic with me.

  A horse yawning was ugly. All teeth and tongue and eyes rolling back.

  Eww.

  “I’m not riding that.”

  Jacob snickered. “And I say you are.”

  “But I want a fast one.”

  He wrapped his arm around the pony’s head, positioning him while slipping the bit into its mouth and securing the bridle so smoothly and quickly, I was left a little in awe.

  He was right. Watching hadn’t taught me a thing. He was way too fast. He had an otherworldly way with these critters, and I had yet to touch one.

  Raising an eyebrow, Jacob turned to face me, allowing his body to fall against the pony until it held his weight. The pony didn’t flinch or protest at being used as a leaning pole; if anything, it nickered quietly and huffed in contentment as if they did this a lot.

  “A fast one, huh?” He ran a hand over his shaggy, dirty blond hair. “Fast ones are dangerous.
”

  “I don’t mind danger.”

  He looked me up and down, from the brand-new cowboy boots with their turquoise faux snakeskin to the freshly pressed jeans and matching turquoise shirt with pearl buttons.

  I’d picked this outfit from an online catalogue stating that true horse girls mucked out barns and rode champion rodeos in impeccable outfits.

  I shivered as his gaze burned into me, dark and distrusting with a hint of—okay, a lot of—dislike. “You would handle one lope of canter before squealing to get off.”

  Crossing my arms, I cocked my chin. “Try me.”

  “My aunt would kill me.” He chuckled under his breath. “And as much as I’d love to prove a point and chuck you on Forrest just for fun, I won’t. You’ll start with Binky.” He elbowed the white pony keeping him upright. “This is Binky. He’s trustworthy, sane, listens, and looks after beginners.”

  “So everything you’re not,” I muttered, eyeing the horse and thinking what a stupid name. It was a kid’s name. I didn’t come here to be treated like a kid. Especially not by him.

  He might have the adults fooled, but I saw who he truly was.

  He was more damaged than the stray. More lost than any abandoned dog. More likely to lash out than any mistreated beast. “I thought you might be happier than last year at the movies. You’re not.”

  Jacob stiffened. His jaw locked; eyes narrowed.

  When he didn’t say anything, I added, “Time is supposed to stop the pain of losing someone.” I looked at the ground. “I guess it has for me, but some days are bad.” I dared look up. “Are you having a bad day, or are you always like this?”

  His eyes darkened to dangerous black. “Are you always this nosy?”

  “Most of the time.” I nodded. “I have so many questions to ask you. When we left the movies that night, Dad told me we could come for a ride the next week, but then he got another job which started straight away. My questions had to wait. But I’ve been dying to come ever since your mom told me—”

  “Enough. You’re not here to talk. And I’m not here to listen.” He grabbed a brush from the ground and swiped it hard and fast over the pony’s mane.

  His back moved with jerky yanks. He muttered something I couldn’t hear.

  Despite his prickly attitude, I wanted to hug him. To deliver what I’d offered at the cinema. To give in to the undeniable urge to just reach out and touch him.

  I might be killed for it, but what if it helped him?

  It made no sense. Apart from Dad, I didn’t really like touching people.

  Not after what happened with Mom.

  But him…yeah, he needed to be hugged.

  “…so that’s the plan. You ready?”

  I shook my head. “Umm, what? Were you talking to me?”

  “God, weren’t you listening?” He sighed in annoyance, spinning around and throwing the brush on the hay-littered ground. “Great. I give you the rundown of what’s about to happen, and you just stare off into space like a—”

  “Sorry, okay. I’ll listen to everything you say from now on.” My temper—that I’d earned from my mother, according to my father—spiked. “Just repeat and let’s get this show on the road.”

  “You’re not in the movie business here, Hope.” He bit out my name. “Don’t get pushy with me.”

  I narrowed my eyes, not liking his tone—the sharpness or intolerance.

  I wanted to argue. To tell him even though he thought I was some Hollywood brat, I was more than that. He should give me a chance instead of making up his mind about me. I wasn’t ten anymore. I knew more things than I did a year ago.

  But then my temper smoked, and my shoulders slouched.

  Just like I didn’t blame the stray for growling at me, I couldn’t blame Jacob Ren Wild. He was right. I’d been too pushy. I’d ruined this all over again.

  Suddenly, riding didn’t seem all that fun after all.

  Looking at Binky’s hooves, I asked softly, “What exactly did I do wrong?”

  Silence fell as Jacob pushed off the pony and stood upright. “Excuse me?”

  I dared look at him. “All I did was be nice to you at the movie premier, and you decided to hate me instantly. You might see a silly kid who you don’t have time for, but I’m not. I’m studying high-school level stuff, according to Keeko. I ask questions no self-respecting adult should ask, according to Dad. And…well, I kinda don’t have any friends. I just wanted you to like me so…”

  “So what?”

  “So I would have someone to talk to.”

  “I’m not interested in conversation.”

  “I’m getting that.” I huffed, kicking dirt, silently pleased when more dust settled over my pristine boots. “Anywho…Binky. He’s safe. I’m a beginner. I’m stupid and not to be trusted. I get it.” Stepping away from him, I looked at the arena to the side. “Are we going in there? Should we get started so you can do other stuff rather than hang with me?”

  I made the mistake of looking at him.

  He stood rooted to the ground, eyes wide, head cocked as if he couldn’t figure me out.

  My tummy tumbled as he licked his lips. “Huh.” Disbelief was heavy in his tone. Shoving both hands into his back pockets, he drifted toward me, his chaps whispering together. “She has a backbone. Who knew?”

  “What?”

  He ignored me. “What questions?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said you ask questions that no self-respecting adult would ask.” He rocked back on his heels as if my answer was no big deal but couldn’t hide his interest. “What questions?”

  “Oh, no. This is a trick.” I glanced over my shoulder to where Dad and that Cassie woman were still talking. “Dad told me those subjects are off-limits. For once, I’m going to behave.”

  Dad caught my eye, waving across the yard.

  I waved back just as Jacob muttered, “What subjects?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s something.” He scowled. “Tell me.”

  “Can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “’Cause it’s not suitable conversation.”

  “I don’t care. I like unsuitable conversation.” His shadow fell over me, locking me in place.

  He wasn’t that much older than me, but the authority in his voice and the desire to obey were a little too hard to ignore.

  He crowded me. “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  I pouted. “I won’t be allowed to ride if I do.”

  “Tell you what.” He leaned closer, threatening and conspiring all at once. “I promise to give you a lesson if you tell me. Despite what the adults say.”

  “Promise?” I blinked, goosebumps once again erupting at his closeness.

  “Hope to die.”

  I cocked my head at the phrase. Funny how something related to keeping a promise had my name in it tied with death.

  Maybe that was why I was so fascinated by the subject.

  Taking a step back, I hesitated. Wasn’t this what I wanted? To talk to a fellow kid who’d lost half his family and seek answers? Narrowing my gaze, I nodded. “Okay.”

  “Good, spit it out.” He removed his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms, a half-smile on his face. “Go on. What stuff aren’t you allowed to talk about?”

  “Stuff like death and things.”

  He froze. “What about death?”

  “Forget it. I’m—”

  “Interested in dying?”

  I nodded, focusing on Binky who’d gone back to sleep.

  “What about dying?” he asked quietly, shooting the adults a look. For the first time, he accepted me as part of his inner circle instead of keeping me pushed out of it.

  I liked that.

  I liked that too much.

  It made me want to give him what he asked for even though it would mean breaking my promise to Dad.

  I glanced over my shoulder again. Dad had finished his conversation with Cass
ie and headed to the car, no doubt to get his phone to take photos of me and catalogue this whole riding afternoon.

  I had precisely two minutes alone with Jacob before I’d have my watcher back in place.

  The dark questions shouldn’t be in my head, but I couldn’t kick them out. When I’d tried, they only became more persistent.

  If I talked about them with Jacob, maybe they’d stop hounding me so much.

  Stepping into Jacob, I sniffed the rich leathery smell of him. Sweet grass and hot sunshine mixed in my nose, making me that much more jealous of where he lived versus my home on the road. “Mom committed suicide a week after my seventh birthday. She took pills like your mom did in the movie.”

  “Wait, what?” His face went monstrous. “My mom is alive. She would never be weak enough to kill herself.”

  I cringed. He just called my mom weak.

  He moved to speak again, but I whispered in a rush, “I found her in bed when I got home with my old nanny from tennis practice.”

  Jacob sucked in a breath, his eyes still black but not as murderous. “You found her on your own?”

  “Yes.” I nodded, biting my lip against the memories of her cold waxy hand, and her glazed hazy eyes. “I thought she was napping, so I curled into bed with her. Nanny went to make dinner, leaving me with her for an hour. It wasn’t until Dad came home and found me snuggled with a corpse that I understood why Mom was so cold—despite the blankets I pulled over us.”

  Jacob gulped. He opened his mouth as if to request more morbid details, but Dad appeared. His hand clamped on my shoulder, squeezing in love, layering me with guilt for doing something he’d asked me not to.

  I shouldn’t have done that.

  I shouldn’t have said one stupid word.

  Stepping away from Jacob, I swallowed back the strange prickles of sadness and confusion I always felt whenever I thought about that day and beamed guiltily at the best parent in the world. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” Dad smiled back. “Ready to ride?”

  “Yep!” I bounced on the spot, overacting a little but oh well. Best he thought I was an overexcited girl than someone obsessed with stuff no sane person should be. Best he believe I hadn’t just betrayed him.

  “Great.” He turned his gaze to Jacob. “All good to go?”