She bit down hard on her lower lip and dialed the number, quickly as if the speed was going to make a difference. The number was still ingrained in her memory, digits that she had never, ever forgotten. Hell, it had once been her favorite number, and not just for Ben being at the other end of it. Because Gus had been as much her lifeline back then as Ben had. When he’d offer her a ride it had been like a junkie getting a fix.
She kept repeating the number in her mind, silently, lips barely moving as it rung.
“McFarlane Stables.”
Phew. It wasn’t Ben.
“Gus!” At least she didn’t have to hide her excitement with him. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I don’t have many young ladies call me, so I’m guessing that’s you, Rebecca.”
His voice was strong, but it crackled more than it used to. Those soft, kind tones that had soothed her and taught her when she was a girl—he’d been the grandfather she’d always wished was her own.
“How did you guess?”
His laughter rumbled down the line. “Something to do with me telling that grandson of mine to get you out here before I kick the bucket.”
“Gus! Don’t talk like that.”
“Ah, but it’s true, love.”
“Gus,” she said, not knowing what else to say to the man she still cared so much about.
“Let’s not talk morbid. Just promise me you’re coming to see us.”
The silence was all her doing this time. She hadn’t expected an invitation to McFarlane’s, in fact, she hadn’t even considered the possibility of going back there. But it was tempting, just the thought of taking a step back in the past even if it was just for a few hours.
“So, are you coming or not?” He never had been one to waste words.
“I, ah...” She’d kept her secret for so long, the last thing she needed was for it to all unravel now before she had time to figure everything out and deal with it properly, and she’d have to ask her folks to look after Lexie.
“Rebecca?”
A tightness in her throat made it hard for her to say anything. “Well...” She paused. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“How about I come down this Saturday?” she asked.
“Bring your bag, love. I want you to enjoy the weekend here. Got a horse that needs your help.”
She choked. The thought of going back in time, of horses, of Gus...it was hard. Exciting, thrilling, terrifying...but still hard.
“I’ll tell the boy you’re coming.”
Uh-oh. The silver-tongued old fox had talked her into a weekend away, all without a hint of protest from her, and she’d forgotten about the reality of Ben. About the fact that it wasn’t just going to be her and Gus reminiscing, that it wasn’t about being old friends and catching up. Just like old times. That’s what he’d said, but there was no way anything between her and Ben was like it used to be.
At least she had nothing to feel guilty about where Lexie was concerned—she spent every Saturday night with her grandparents anyway, but still...she usually didn’t feel bad about having Saturday night off from parenting each week because she worked, but having an evening to herself seemed wrong somehow. Even though she’d never done it once in her daughter’s three years before.
But she deserved one weekend to herself, and she just couldn’t risk taking her with her.
A butterfly-soft shiver ran the length of her spine. But this was Ben, this was a step back into the past for one night, and the idea of seeing him again... She shook her head as if it would somehow push her worries away.
She was going to do it. And then she’d figure out how to break the news to him, because now he was home, and if he was home for good, then all the reasons she had for keeping Lexie from him were gone.
THIS WAS HARDER than she’d thought. Just the idea of seeing Ben had her stomach turning, twisting into a cavalcade of knots. She focused on the road and gripped the wheel tighter, pulling over just near the turnoff and trying to slow her breathing, trying to stop her hands from trembling, too. If she could only still them enough to smudge some gloss over her dry lips, run her fingers through her hair and press a smidge of perfume to her neck, she’d be fine.
The driveway loomed ahead; as immaculate as she’d remembered it. Gus was an old man now, but his standards hadn’t slipped, and she found herself hoping the stables and house were unchanged, too. Her memories were so vivid, colorful in her mind as if she’d been here merely months ago, instead of years.
She pushed the lever down into Drive again, satisfied that she looked passable in the mirror, and pulled slowly into the driveway. Gravel crunched under the tires and trees softly waved against the metal of the vehicle as if welcoming her. Bec took a deep breath and found emotions getting the better of her. Up until a week ago, she’d never expected to see this place again, but it was so good to be back.
Up ahead she could just see the house, a triple brick, beautiful residence that was as immaculate as the drive. Roses were neatly clipped, windows thrown wide, one of the most gorgeous houses she’d ever seen. Her own family home was nice, better than modest, but this place was something else. And then her eyes settled on her once favorite part of the property—the row of stables, in an L-shape, to the left of the house.
She slowed the car to a crawl as she surveyed the place, looking for any sign of life and seeing none. There were no horses in sight, but then at this time of day it wasn’t to be expected. Apart from a ginger cat stretched out in the sun, it was as good as deserted. In a way she was glad, it gave her time to walk around and reminisce before figuring out what to say to Ben.
She pushed open the car door and let it shut behind her as she stretched her legs. The sun was warm on her bare arms and she moved toward the stables, eyes wandering everywhere. What she loved about this place was the privacy, with only the side of the stables visible. Bec had heard there were fewer horses here than ever now that Gus had slowed down, but as soon as she rounded the building it became obvious that reduced numbers for him were still impressive.
The property had been purpose built with horse rearing and polo playing in mind. The old stables had been meticulously cared for and maintained over the years, and Rebecca stopped to look. The stables stretched in a long line, flanked by larger, box stalls tying up bays. The wooden structures were faded yet clean, the white and navy colors still vivid in her mind from years ago. Wisteria curled down over the edges, pots of bright flowers infusing color into the well-kept area. The door to the tack room was wide-open, and Rebecca could smell the aroma of saddle soap and sweaty horse blankets. It was a blast from the past that made her smile.
She continued on, stopping to rub a nose poking out from one of the boxes. The smell of hay, the sight of horseflesh, it sent a shiver of both excitement and worry through her body. The same kind of feeling she got thinking about Ben.
Rebecca looked ahead to the land before her. The most sheltered field was still kept for young stock, and from the looks of them, recently weaned fillies and colts. Frisky-looking babies who were having a ball of a time, playing and scolding one another in the safe, well-fenced environment. Working with the young stock had been something she and Ben had both enjoyed. Teaching them their manners, how to respect humans, all without needing to use a firm hand. Back then, she and Ben had always had their heads buried in a Monty Roberts book, the legendary horse whisperer who flaunted industry-standard horse breaking rules.
Rebecca walked on and let her eyes wander, taking in the sights, but it was