Olive kicked the shoes from her tired feet and plopped down onto her bed. The Pie Maker had called a few hours before and said to close up shop early, that they were going to be out longer than he had anticipated. Normally Olive would feel overlooked, not being included in the group's adventure, but she had other things weighing heavily on her mind.
One thing in particular.
When she had cleaned up for the evening, dutifully wiping down the counter, she found yet another postcard from her past. And even though she had tried to put this part of her past far, far, far behind her, staring at it brought back a flood of memories—most of which she had tried to forget.
Staring at the postcard Olive found herself back in time; she could smell the leather of the horse's saddle, feel the caress of her jockey silks against her skin, and hear the drone of the voice she hated most in the entire world.
Olive Snook was 20 years, 5 months, 13 days, 10 hours, 7 minutes old. Since the first day her beloved horse was old enough to ride, she had trained hard. Her dream was to be a jockey, and through nothing but sheer will and determination she had quickly become the top amateur jockey in the state, an accomplishment that did not go unnoticed.
It also did not hurt to be young, beautiful and blonde. So naturally, Olive Snook attracted a lot of admirers, from fellow jockeys to stable hands. But none was as smitten as a Mr. Trevor Trask Jr., the son of Mr. Trevor Trask Sr., the owner of Trask's Track and Horse Course. But Olive saw him as more of a nuisance than a possible suitor.
Even though Olive knew he was harmless, his smile was more of a sneer and he possessed a kind of false bravado and smarmy swagger. Everything from his weak appearance—she figured a strong breeze could blow him over—to his beady eyes, monotone voice, and his insistence on wearing a green bowtie no matter the occasion, made her skin crawl.
Olive threw the card across the room, visibly upset. She had asked Emerson to find him before he found her, but it was obvious it was much too late. He had already found out where she worked and had snuck in right under her nose to leave another postcard greeting. The thought that he was out there, lurking nearby sight unseen, sent chills down her spine. With a sigh she flopped backwards and sprawled herself out on her bed. Staring up at the ceiling—the only space in her apartment not decorated in a horse theme—she found herself thinking once again about her past.
Trevor Trask Jr. was a strange one indeed, though one could not say that he was one to give up easily. He would show up everyday at the stables, try to impress her with his knowledge of anything equine—though it was apparent from his unwillingness to go anywhere near a horse that he was terrified of the animal—and ask her out on a date, to which she would decline. Things continued on in this manner for weeks until one day while out riding she found her feelings, like her horse Pie, took a most unexpected turn.
Olive could still remember the day as if it was yesterday. She wondered why you could remember the worst moments in your life just as well, if not better, as the best ones—although at the time she did not consider it to be the worst. No, at the time it seemed like the most glorious day in her life.
She remembered taking her horse for a lap around the track early in the morning before another soul had risen, as she often did. Everything was normal and unspectacular until the moment Pie strangely veered off course. Galloping wildly and not heeding Olive's commands Pie headed back to the stables, directly towards Trevor Trask Jr., who seemed to be waiting for them as if he knew they were coming. Olive had little time to worry over her horse's strange behavior, for she suddenly felt quite strange herself.
For as soon as she saw Trevor her normal reaction upon seeing him—revulsion—was gone. It was replaced by an overpowering need to jump from her mount and rush into his arms. So, after slowing Pie to a stop, that's exactly what he did.
As he held her in his lanky arms a symphony swelled in her heart. A romantic ballad that chorused over and over a single word: Trevor. She had no idea what had taken over her, as only a day before she cringed at the sight of him. She could only describe the feeling as being "entranced".
Olive felt herself gag at the thought. The sudden love—or more like infatuation—she felt for the man was inexplicable and all consuming, and grew the more she was with him, until after only two weeks they were engaged. Even now she could not find a reason to explain it, but it made her sick to think that she had lost her senses so completely and almost married a man she detested. And now that man was back, and no matter his reason for suddenly making an appearance in her life, she knew she had to stay far, far away from him lest she lose herself once more.