Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long in updating. I've been stuck in a rut of writer's block for a while now. Thank you to my reviewers, JmacNCheese, alfabiteater, and HottWriter017! Your kind words are much appreciated. I hope y'all enjoy this next chapter! Sorry, it's short…Happy reading….
Disclaimer: I do not own Summerland, nor do I own any related characters or places.
Longing to Know
Chapter 5
As Bradin silently watched Harley halter the horse, something inside of him snapped, and he reached out and grabbed her arm. As she spun toward him, a stinging slap across the face stunned him momentarily, and he dropped her arm.
"How dare you," Harley spat at him, burning hatred leaping from her ebony eyes.
"I'm sorry, I—"
"If you ever touch me like that again, you'll look up at me from the ground." She flung the gate open in his face and led the horse past him.
He stood next to the gate until the pain faded before turning and picking his way across the dark parking lot to follow her. Stepping into the cool black of the barn, Bradin paused. He heard nothing.
"Harley?" he called softly, his voice cracking lightly with worry. From down the aisle, he heard faint whispering, and he started toward it. Peering into a dimly lit stall, Bradin heard her speaking to a horse, but it was not loud enough to make out. "Harley."
"Shh," she hissed sharply, swinging the Coleman lamp in his direction. "Westerly, either get in and shut up or make yourself scarce."
Bradin clamped his mouth shut and quietly entered the doublewide stall. Adjusting to the dim surroundings, his eyes caught sight of the reddish-brown filly that cowered in a corner. It was the horse that had been dropped off just that morning: an abuse and neglect case.
He risked a glance at Harley, but she was focused on the animal. Taking the chance to discreetly study her closely, Bradin's eyes washed over her smooth light bronze skin. As if she felt his gaze, a slight ripple ran through the muscles of her jaw, yet she did not turn. Instead, she slowly moved toward the horse, hand extended, palm down with her fingers pressed together and curved downward.
Again, Harley began speaking softly, but Bradin could not understand the words. Her voice was light and soothing, and the horse responded positively, stepping forward and reaching out her nose to touch Harley's offered hand. The monologue continued as Harley ran her hands along the horse's body.
"Bradin."
He barely heard his name, but in the silence that surrounded them, he jumped as if she had shouted. As he stepped forward, Harley motioned for him to approach as she had, with his hand out. The horse hesitated momentarily before gently touching his hand with her velvet muzzle. Bradin reached out to touch the filly's shoulder, but she moved away hurriedly, a white rim showing in the corner of her eye.
"Slow. Don't trap her." The words oozed from Harley's lips easily. "Let her come back to you."
A few moments later, the filly cautiously moved toward him and reached her muzzle out again.
"Touch her with your heart," Harley said. She took Bradin's hand under her own and guided it over the horse's quivering neck and shoulder. The filly sighed deeply and lowered her head.
"Feel that?" Harley asked. "She relaxed."
Bradin nodded. The filly's once tense muscles were smooth and calm beneath his touch.
Harley spoke, but the words were nearly inaudible. The tone dynamic increased, and Bradin once again heard the confusing volley of sounds.
"Those words; what are you saying?" he inquired when she stopped.
"Friend, my horse, flies like a bird as it runs. The four winds are blowing; some horses are coming. Daybreak appears when a horse neighs," she recited, never looking away from the filly's large deep brown eye. "It's a Sioux song of the horse."
The two humans stood motionless and silent, only presently aware of the small distance between them. A stray strand of black hair slipped across Harley's face, but before she could tuck it behind her ear, Bradin brought his free hand up to gently push it back into place. In the same movement, he slid his hand around her neck to caress her jaw line with his thumb.
Inching toward her, Bradin tested his limits. As if in slow motion, his lips met hers in a soft, sweet kiss. He slowly began leaning Harley back against the wood paneling of the stall, but as she came up against it, she rebelled, killing the moment Bradin had so carefully created. Gazing into her eyes, a wild terror flared within their depths, like that of the filly's when he had pushed too fast. She dropped her eyes.
"I'm going home," Harley said, refusing to look up at him.
"Let me drive you," Bradin offered.
"I'll walk." She pushed away from him and opened the sliding stall door.
"It's dark."
"I'll walk," she repeated firmly, the lock clanking into place as if finalizing her words.