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There will be SAKE starting this chapter (just a little)! *pause for applause* Yaaay!

Also, I forgot to mention in my earlier chapters that yes, little Cody is in this story, but I forgot to put him in here. Oh well, just please bear with me! From now on, I won't forget him, if need be…

Oh, and if you reviewed chapter 2, I'm posting replies to your reviews! Yippee!

Wild Cowgirl 16: Thank you!

God'srider: Thank you as well!

Fancy Girl Haflinger: Ahhhh no one's died yet have they?! Ha ha just kidding….

livandletliv: Sometimes I have a hard time working with characters that aren't my own :P but I'm really going to try and incorporate them as best I can. Next chapter, however, is when all the real "character integrating" begins.

The first week of school passed by quickly. I continued to sit with Sam's group at lunch and they chatted while I listened with more interest than even I expected to have. However, at lunch on Friday, Sam directed the conversation towards me, and it was on a rather unpleasant subject.

"Hey, the weather's supposed to be a bit warmer today," she said eagerly. My gut twisting into knots warned me that she was about to bring up what I didn't want brought up. "Jen and I are going on a ride out to War Drum Flats. You wanna join us?" Jen looked at me from behind her owlish glasses, her stare steady but seemingly unaffected by my decision. I quickly shook my head.

"Oh, no thanks, I have this pile of homework I have to get through," I replied, feeling everyone's eyes on me. Sam arched an eyebrow in speculation, but didn't push it further.

"Really?" Jen asked skeptically. "The way you zoned out in History today, I would think that schoolwork isn't exactly your first priority. And besides, it's Friday." Jen's comment was amazingly introspective, and her blue eyes turned icy as she stared at me. I felt myself wanting to shrink beneath her gaze, but instead gave her a bit of a glare. Her tone, if not the words themselves, had been almost… rude.

"I have to finish my homework tonight," I said testily. "I have other things to do this weekend."

"Such as…?" she countered.

"I think my parents want me to help work on the new pen Jake and Will are building for our stallion," I said, not sure if Jen knew Will, but since Sam had proclaimed her as her best friend, I figured she would know him as well as Sam did. And I'd seen Jen and Jake's constant little squabbles in the hallways, so obviously they were well acquainted.

"You think," Jen sneered. I looked down at my hands.

"They've been hinting at it. It wouldn't surprise me."

"Jen, back off," Sam reprimanded gently, giving me an apologetic glance. Her tone was surprised. I'd only known Jen a week, but this behavior seemed out of the norm for her. I might've been as surprised as everyone else at the table seemed to be. An awkward silence fell over us, until Cory brought up something about going to Darton High's basketball game tonight. She invited me, and I repeated my homework excuse, which she accepted a lot more readily than Jen had.

At the end of the day, I was making my usual route to the bus waiting outside the school building. The sky was a beautiful blue, completely cloud-free, and the air didn't have the same bite to it that had been around the past several weeks. Sam and Jen were getting a ride home from someone that day, so I was going to be riding the bus alone. With a sigh, I began boarding, only to be tapped on the shoulder and nearly fall over backwards on the bus's steps trying to turn around and identify who it was.

"Graceful," Will laughed. I narrowed my eyes and pushed my bedraggled bangs away from my face as I recovered myself.

"I thought you didn't ride the bus?" I asked, ignoring his comment.

"My brother usually takes me home, but he went home early today 'cause he wasn't feeling well. So I got stuck without a ride."

"Oh." I wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that. We slid into the same seat, and I leaned against the window, letting my eyes close and trying to sort out, as I sifted through the memories, where Jen's attitude problem at lunch had come from.

"Tired?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Just thinking."

"About what?" I opened my eyes swiftly but didn't move another muscle.

"Why do you pry so much?"

"Just curious." He shrugged nonchalantly. "You're new here, you're interesting."

"Good to know," I spat sarcastically. "You make me feel like some sort of specimen to observe."

"Sorry."

I let a pent up breath whoosh out through my lips. "I think I'm in a bit of a bad mood. I should be sorry."

"You were fine just now, in theatre."

"I like theatre."

"No." I gave him a curious look, and he chuckled softly. "You're this whole different person in there. You talk to everyone, you're outspoken, and you look like you enjoy acting, unlike me, who's in it just to get the fine arts credit." I felt my mouth form an "O" in shock. How in the world could a boy be that perceptive?

"Okay, I really like theatre. And it distracted me. But now I'm not distracted, and I'm in a bit of a bad mood."

"And I'm not supposed to ask why."

"Point four." I gave him a half smile as the bus began rolling off the school grounds, closed my eyes, and we rested in a short, comfortable silence until we came to his stop.

"Bye," he announced, getting up. I opened my eyes in acknowledgement and waved. I was afraid I might fall asleep; I'd been pretty close before he'd spoken to me, so I sat up a bit straighter and turned my eyes to the world outside my window.

A loud gasp escaped my lips. He lived here?!

A short driveway, which he was now walking down, bordered by fancy stones that almost shimmered in the sunlight in their various deep shades, led the way to the gate, which appeared to be electronic. The gate was wrought-iron like the rest of the fence, in a picture-perfect shade of ivory-white. The path continued a little longer until it split, one trail leading to a different little gate that was hidden in the fence that surrounded the house's backyard, and the other to his front doorstep. The house was enormous, almost a mansion.

I continued to stare as the bus driver lectured some students up front, giving me more time to analyze the house. It was the same ivory color as the fence, with large columns in the front and a set of French doors at the entry. It was two stories high, with an unbelievable amount of windows. The ones on the first floor had matching mahogany--or so it appeared--shutters, a surprisingly beautiful contrast to the off-white color of the house. There was a separate garage nearby, bigger than my house.

The driver finally quit yelling and started the bus back up again. I allowed myself one last glance at the property, and noticed that a man in--was he really a suit?--open to door as Will climbed up the white marble steps.

Although many questions were swirling around in my head now, the one that burned the most was this: if Will had so much money, why didn't he have his own horse?

***

"You're such a pain, Jake," Sam said in a huff, setting down her bucket angrily. I glanced at them for a moment, then returned to my work, hammering away into the fence post. At the other end of what was beginning to become a turnout area, Will was also hammering.

And of course, for the second time today, Jake and Sam had abandoned the work so they could have another argument. Will told me that, despite the fact that the two were best friends and constantly picked on each other, this amount of actual arguing was very unusual. He wasn't sure what to make of it, either.

"Am I, Brat?" Jake replied lazily. Sam's shoulder-length auburn hair waved wildly in the wind, giving her the appearance of a fierce warrior.

"Yes," she spat. "You can't ever just leave me be! You're more protective than my father--and that's saying something! Why don't you trust me?"

"You tend to get yourself in trouble." Jake's voice was no longer lazy; there was a sharp edge to it now. I tried to ignore them and keep hammering on the fence, but they weren't working, and they were starting to get loud.

"I can handle myself, Jake!" Sam exclaimed, and as I looked up, she shoved Jake's chest, which of course barely moved the towering boy an inch. He glowered at her, then grabbed her shoulders roughly. I was almost afraid he would hurt her, but he just began to speak in a low, rough voice.

"I can't let you do that," he said quietly. The only reason I could hear him was because the wind carried his voice to me, and I listened to intently, stopping my work. "Every time you decide to 'save the day', Samantha, you get yourself in trouble. Do you know how many times--" there was a pause, "how many times I've heard you were out on the range pulling a crazy stunt, and I nearly had a heart attack? Can't you see why I can't let you do this?"

A long pause followed, and Jake's arms stayed where they were as they stared each other in the eyes. Sam opened her mouth, but no words came out. Another few silent moments passed. Then, without warning, Sam wrapped her arms around Jake's torso in a hug. After a moment of shock, Jake hugged her back. Feeling intrusive, I went back to hammering, but with a sneaky little smile on my face as they stood there for quite a while.

Good friends, even best friends, usually didn't stay in a hug longer than sixty seconds.

When they finally let go of each other and started up their work again, I noticed that they were talking in friendly voices now. I sighed in relief. Now we could get some work done, and they were enjoying each other's company. Sam had claimed that the only reason she had come to help Jake, Will, and I with building the turnout was because her parents had told her to do so. But as I saw the tall, dark-skinned boy with raven-black hair looking over at the pretty, slight, auburn-haired girl, I felt fairly certain that she had an entirely different reason for coming.

After several hours of hard work, my mother came outside to let us know it was time to call it quits and invite the guests in for hot chocolate. My fingers ached from the cold and all the hammering, but on the bright side, the turnout was already about a third of the way complete

We gathered in the living room, gladly accepting the hot chocolate my mom distributed before squishing together on our single little couch. I suppressed a giggle, because there wasn't really enough room for four. I glanced towards the old love seat, where my dad sat, quietly reading over the local newspaper. I understood why no one wanted to share it with him; talk about odd one out.

I was squished between Sam and Will, while Jake sat on the opposite side of Sam. Although everyone acted like they were watching the television show, The Corporation, that was on, I noticed that Sam was getting drowsy, and Jake looked far away. After one full episode, Sam sank into sleep, a soft snore coming from her mouth. She drooped against Jake's shoulder, and he looked perfectly cozy there. Obviously, he didn't mind being squished on the couch next to her, and the thought accidentally made a snort come from my nose. I covered my mouth in embarrassment as Jake glanced over suspiciously and Will laughed out loud.

"That wasn't a funny part," Will scoffed.

"It just… reminded me of something funny," I lied lamely. Neither of the boys appeared satisfied with my answer, so I gave them my best, I'm-serious-so-what's-your-problem look. I'll have to admit, even for the "non-actors" in the room, it was probably pretty unconvincing.

Another episode later, Jake announced that he should probably take Sam home. He woke up a sleepy Sam and left, steadying her as they trudged to his truck. As soon as they were out the front door and Will and I were alone with my dad, I let out a long "Awww."

Will laughed, clearly understanding as a pleasant silence fell over us. I walked him to his truck out of courtesy and waved goodbye to Sam and Jake as they drove away, screaming "Thank you!" I got a wave from Jake's arm out the open window.

"Thanks for helping," I said softly as Will unlocked his shiny truck's door.

"No problem, thanks for helping us," he replied breezily as I traced a pattern on his truck's shiny navy blue paintjob, picture perfect like his house.Upon further inspection, I also discovered that it was a King Ranch edition. I couldn't suppress my curiosity any longer about this boy's vast amount of wealth.

"You know, you never bothered to tell me you were filthy rich," I blurted out suddenly, then looked up apologetically, hoping I didn't sound too rude. He shrugged.

"You never told me you were afraid of riding in general, but I figured that out on my own." I felt my heart stutter a couple of unsteady beats, felt the blood flush my face, felt my eyes narrow, and felt the anger bubbling in my throat as my hand twitched towards his truck door, ready to shut it towards him and give him a nice bruise or two.

It took him a couple of moments to read my face, and he frowned. "I'm--"

"Going home," I finished for him angrily. "I'm not afraid of riding. I just don't trail ride. And you better keep that piece of information to yourself!" I crossed my arms stubbornly and flashed him my best glare.

"I don't care how mad you are, but it's time to face it: you're afraid to ride period. The way you're acting proves it."

"Proves what?!"

"That you're afraid."

"Am not."

"Lia, I'm a bit more perceptive than you think."

"I can't talk about this." My voice was deflated, all anger displaced by a heaviness in my heart.

"I could help you. Sam was once in a bad riding accident, you know. She could help you, too. And Jake's a great rider and might be willing to give you some tips. Come on, Lia." His voice pleaded, and his eyes grew unbearably soft. "Give me--I mean us--a chance."

I stared at my dusty boots intently. No one had ever offered me help like that--yes, my mother and father had tried to help, my friends in California, and my old endurance riding coach had all tried--but they'd never flat out said they could help me. They'd never even bothered to ask permission. They'd all been indirect, thinking it was better not to come head-on with the problem. So Will's flat-out accusation had caught me off guard, and of course I was angry about that. But as I chewed over it, I realized I was more mad at myself than anything, for not being able to admit to anyone that, yes, I was afraid. I was scared to death of truly riding a horse. And the more I mulled over it, the more I realized that I was simply waiting for someone to say they could help me, for someone to directly take charge.

"Okay." He appeared astounded.

"You'll really let us help you?" I nodded, embarrassed. Will grinned. "Sherlock has scored again." I shook my head in amusement.

"You can all come over tomorrow around noon. I'll call Sam and you can ask Jake."

"Sure." He looked indecisive for a moment before giving me a hug, which I didn't return. "And I'll get here early, so I can tell you about Sam. I think it'll… help you understand."

"She won't mind?"

"No. Honestly, she won't; just don't bring it up if you don't have to. She may even mention it herself."

He climbed in, waved, and I turned back to the house, feeling a little tipsy. I might get over my fear of going faster than a walk on horseback.

And to be honest, I'd loved that he'd hugged me. Which scared me more than the fact that I might be made to gallop around on a horse tomorrow.