Chapter 4

As Tim drove, I glanced over my shoulder at the back seat. Maybe I could change back there. It looked big enough. I removed my seatbelt and bent forward to unbuckle and remove my boots. The black stockings came off next. Then I took off the studded leather wrist guards and the collar from around my neck.

"What're you doing?" Tim briefly turned and watched me start to crawl into the back seat.

It wasn't easy with the short skirt hanging so low on my hips. "Changing my clothes." From the corner of my eye, I saw him turn again and he was greeted with my ass in a black thong. I hadn't intended on sticking it in his face, but I couldn't help it. It wasn't exactly the most graceful way to get into the back seat.

I met his eyes and when I started to untie my short white top, he immediately faced forward again.

As I pushed my skirt off, I saw his eyes watching me through the rear view mirror.

"So, are you going to tell me what you're running from?" he asked.

"What makes you think I'm running from anything? I'm going to Dillon for the wedding. Landry and Tyra."

"Two suitcases, three boxes of stuff, a funky lamp, a laptop…I dunno. Looks to me like you just moved out. And I know you weren't crying back there because your car died."

I slid into my jeans and when I pulled the top over my head, I noticed his eyes were still on me in the mirror. But I didn't volunteer anymore information.

"It's fine," he finally said with a sigh. "I thought maybe you'd wanna get it off your chest. But we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

I crawled back into the front seat and once I was settled in, I looked out the window. The silence became uncomfortable. I liked it better when we were talking. "I came home from work early this afternoon and found my boyfriend getting it on with one of my co-workers." I shrugged. Henry wasn't technically my boyfriend, but I wanted Tim to think he was. "He made it out like it was my fault."

"Is that from him?"

"What?" I turned to look at him.

"That bruise on your face."

"No. This happened at work. I…I wasn't watching where I was going and I hit the wall."

His cheek clenched. He obviously didn't believe me.

"You're better off without him," he finally said.

"I know." I didn't want to tell Tim about the attempted robbery at work and I didn't want to tell him that a killer was on the loose, probably searching for me all over Portland.

I pulled down the visor and looked at myself in the mirror. In horror I realized my black eye makeup was smeared all over my face. I looked like a hooker who had a very bad night. It probably happened when I had cried my eyes out on his shoulder. I noticed my makeup was on his white teeshirt, but I was afraid to tell him. "Do you have any Kleenex?" I asked.

He looked at me with that look. That innocent 'I'm a guy, so you can't expect me to have that kind of stuff' look.

I sighed. He was such a hard habit to break.

Flashback – Five Years Ago

I walked down the school hallway in the direction of my locker, a brown paper bag full of cookies in my hand. I baked them the night before and a smile crept up on my face as I remembered the ingredients I used. When I reached my locker, I turned the combination on the lock and opened the door. My attention went to the commotion down the hallway as everyone fell all over themselves to greet Tim Riggins. I rolled my eyes and pretended to ignore it all.

"Hey, Taylor." His voice was suddenly directly behind me. "Is that for me?"

I glanced down at the bag and turned around to face him with a smile. "Yeah. I made them last night."

Tim took the bag and reached in for a chocolate chip cookie. "So does this mean you'll do my homework, too?" His smiling eyes were on me as he took a bite and chewed. And then his happy face changed. He coughed and spit the cookie back into the bag. His eyes came up to my face and he looked totally pissed. "Are you trying to kill me?"

I gave him an innocent look and shrugged. "I never said I could bake." I purposely used salt instead of sugar. And I mean, a lot of salt.

With a disgruntled look on his face, Tim shoved the paper bag back in my hands and walked away. When he was halfway down the hall, I saw him look over his shoulder at me. I tossed the bag into the garbage and laughed as I turned back to my locker. That should give him a hint that I wasn't going to bow down to his every whim like all his past rally girls.

End of Flashback

A little after 8:30pm, Tim pulled into the parking lot of a motel. A few feet away from the building was his black pickup truck and hitched to the rear bed was the longest horse trailer I had ever seen in my life.

"I'll see if the room next to mine is available," Tim said as he got out of the car.

I got out, too. "How many beds are in your room?"

"There's two."

I seriously didn't want to sleep in a motel room by myself. "Why can't I just stay in your room then?"

He leaned on the roof of the car. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, Jules."

"I'm not uncomfortable. We're adults. I'm sure we can safely share a motel room without any…weirdness. Right?"

"All right." He nodded and started walking toward the trailer. "You wanna see him?"

"Sure."

Tim unlocked and opened a door on the side of the trailer and stepped inside. I followed and in the darkness I could make out a very large shape against the back wall. He flipped a switch and a small light came on.

My jaw dropped when I saw the horse. "Oh my God, Tim. He's beautiful." I moved toward the horse.

"Wait…Jules…careful, he's not…"

I went up and stroked the side of his massive neck.

"…not very friendly," Tim said, clearing his throat.

"What're you talking about? Look how gentle he is." I turned to look over my shoulder at Tim and saw the surprised look on his face.

"This isn't how he was when I bought him. He was a thoroughly pissed off wrecking ball."

"Maybe he just didn't like his previous owner or the handlers." I caressed the horse's face. "What's his name again?"

"Strike While It's Hot. I've been calling him Striker."

I noticed his ears moved every time Tim spoke. "He's listening to you, Tim. I think he likes the sound of your voice."

Tim came up beside me and ran his hand over the horse's back. "You think so?"

I tilted my head. "You said you're gonna train him to cut cows? Friesians aren't built for that kind of sport."

He looked at me. "You know something about this breed?"

"When we lived in Tennessee, I took riding lessons. And in my advanced classes, I rode a Friesian a couple of times. Not quite as big as this guy, but it was an amazing ride. Are you sure old man Foster told you to get a Friesian?"

"I'm positive. And it was this particular one, too. I saw another one at the auction and he wasn't as wild. That one went for thirty-nine grand."

I ran my fingers through Striker's long mane. "His body type is the old classic baroque style. A lot rarer than the smaller sport build. You must have spent a lot on him."

"No, I actually didn't. He only cost me four thousand dollars. I think it's because of the way he acted. I mean, he was all over the place, knocking things over and rearing and freaking out. He was a ten on the temperament scale."

I had been in love with the breed for years after I had ridden one in my equestrian classes and I had done a lot of research. "Personally I don't think he liked whatever gig he was in before you bought him. The breed is known to sometimes bond with a single person. Maybe you're the one."

Tim walked to a panel and opened it. "I hope so, since I'm gonna be risking my neck on his back." He separated an armful of hay from a bale and tossed it on the ground. Then he walked over and loosened the rope tied to the trailer wall so Striker could lower his head to eat. Then he pushed open one of the windows and looked out. "Are you hungry? We can get something to eat at one of the local joints."

"What're the choices?"

"Let's see, we've got Peggy's Diner or there's Peggy's Diner…or for something off the beaten path…Peggy's Diner."

I laughed and walked up next to him. "You know where I think we should go?"

We both said it at the same time. "Peggy's Diner."

He turned to me and our eyes met and for that brief moment, as we stood close together, I saw something in those eyes. Maybe it was a small spark of interest…or maybe it was just the way the low light played in his eyes. It was more than likely my overactive imagination.

"Let's go eat," he finally said. "I'm starved." He turned off the light and waited for me to hop out of the trailer first.

After closing and locking the trailer door, we walked across the street.

Peggy's Diner was a typical country diner, with very typical country food. We ordered cheeseburgers, fries and milk shakes and sat opposite each other in a booth.

Tim had never been very vocal, but when he had something to say, there was no stopping him, so I let him talk as we ate. "So I'm sitting there wondering what would happen if I just mixed the shit together."

"I can't believe you did it."

"Oh yeah, I did it. Blew a hole in the ceiling, singed off one of my eyebrows."

"And you were suspended for an entire month."

"You remember that?" he asked.

"Of course I remember. The whole school was talking about it." I didn't add that I remembered everything he ever did. But I didn't want to remind him how badly I had crushed on him in high school.

"I don't remember ever hearing you do anything crazy when you were in school," he said. "Straight A student, Coach and Mrs Coach's daughter."

"That's because you were too busy partying to notice anything I did."

"You seriously still think I didn't notice you? Weren't you the one in the bathroom with me at that party on Homecoming night?"

"That's because I was your rally girl. Any other time, you just thought I was a geek."

He nodded and laughed. "Yeah, you're right, I did."

I threw a fry at him and it bounced off his forehead. "You don't have to agree."

"Jules, I didn't even recognize you on the side of the road earlier. I almost didn't stop."

"I have to believe you would have stopped for a helpless girl wearing a mini-skirt and a short top, even if it hadn't been me."

He rolled his light green eyes. "I was looking for you. I wasn't looking for any distractions. But you're right. I would have at least called a cab for the helpless girl."

I bit my lower lip and looked away from the intensity of those eyes. He had no idea what they did to my insides. Every time he was this close, where I could actually see the contrasting colors in his irises, my stomach dropped like I was on a rollercoaster. I needed to distract myself from those eyes. "Lois and I pulled a pretty good prank once."

"Yeah? What'd you do?" he asked, oblivious to my pleasant discomfort.

"We snuck into the boys locker room while they were practicing on the basketball court and poured itching powder into her ex-boyfriend's jeans. He didn't stop scratching himself for hours. We still laugh about it."

"Itching powder. That's pretty nasty. What'd he do to deserve that?"

"He dated her to make someone else jealous."

"That's bad." He raised his cup to drink his shake through the straw.

"It was another guy."

Tim nearly choked. "Okay, that's really bad," he said laughing.

"I know, right?"

"So this wedding is kind of a shock," he said with a laugh.

"Who would have thought Tyra and Landry would ever get married?"

"No really. How did Tyra and Landry even happen in this universe?"

I shrugged and shook my head.

"Are you the maid of honor?" he asked.

"Nope. Her sister Mindy had plenty to say about that, so I'm one of the other bridesmaids. I suppose Matt is the best man."

"I'm pretty sure. Landry asked me to stand up, too, so maybe we'll get lucky and be paired up."

I nodded. "Yeah, then we can dance together, for at least one dance."

"Hopefully more than one."

"Alright, maybe two." My cell phone buzzed on the table and I watched it bounce around. I glanced at the display, expecting it to be Henry for the thirty-seventh time, of which I didn't answer. But it wasn't Henry. "It's Dad." I answered it. "Hi, Dad."

"Hi, honey. Did Riggins find you?"

"Yeah, he did. We're having a bite at a diner."

"I thought you said you were going to the airport in Salem?"

"I was, but I decided I'm gonna just drive to Dillon with Tim. He needs help with this totally amazing horse he bought."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah, I'm positive. And Dad, you should see his cool car, too."

"Yeah, honey, I've seen it."

"Besides, I can use the time to clear my head, you know."

"Okay, if that's what you want to do. I'll transfer some money into your account in the morning. You pay for your own accommodations and your own food, all right? Don't let Tim pay for everything."

"I know."

"And pitch in for gas, too."

"Okay."

"Good. Let me talk to Tim for a minute."

I held the phone out to Tim. "He wants to talk to you."

Tim put my phone to his ear. "Hey, Coach, what's up?"

I hoped my dad wasn't going to give him one of his awkward lectures.

"I checked it and that thing is definitely dead," Tim continued. "I put a call to a towing company situated just outside of Portland. They'll scrap it…" Pause. "No, I took care of it. It's no big deal…" Pause. "Yeah, I'm still planning to go to Vegas to catch the Cutting Horse Championship." He looked up at me. "And I think your daughter could use a full day at one of those Zen spas or something…" Pause. "What?..." He laughed at something my dad said. "No, sir, not for me, thanks…" Pause. "Yeah, we'll head straight over to Dillon after that. I'm thinking we'll probably get there no later than Wednesday." His eyes came up to mine again. "Sure thing, Coach, I'll make sure she's safe. I'll see ya." He handed the phone back to me.

"Dad?"

"Honey, I want you to stay with Riggins, okay? Don't go wandering off in Vegas and getting into trouble."

"I won't, I promise."

"Good. I've been to one of those cutting horse competitions. I think you'll enjoy it."

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'll talk to ya later."

"Love you."

"I love you, too, honey."

I hung up and looked at Tim. He was smiling. "What?" I asked him.

He shook his head, still smiling. "Nothing."

"I know, I know. I'm twenty-one and he still treats me like I'm fifteen."

"He's just trying to protect you."

From the corner of my eye I saw a policeman walk in. He sat at the counter and the waitress poured him a cup of coffee.

"What was the joke?" I asked.

"What joke?"

"When you said, not for me. What was so funny?"

He smiled again. "You don't wanna know."

"Was it about me?"

"No, it wasn't about you."

"Well, then tell me."

"He just made a comment about me getting a massage."

"Like what?"

"You don't wanna know," he repeated with a sigh.

"Yes, I do."

"He asked me if I was going to get a personal massage."

"A personal massage?"

"A hand job, all right?" he said in a whisper.

I squinted at him.

"See?" He pointed to my squinting eyes. "That right there is why I didn't wanna tell you."

"I can't believe you and my dad talk like that."

He shrugged. "We've gotten closer over the last couple of years. He's helped me out a lot. He's more like a father to me than my own old man. And Mrs Coach," he said, shaking his head. "She is fantastic. She helped me pick out furniture and decorated my house. You should see it."

"Whatever," I said, knowing he had changed the subject on purpose.

He glanced at his watch and stood up, grabbing the check off the table. "Let's go, Miss Whatever, before I demand to see Peggy about the lack of alcoholic beverages in this place."

"Let me pay for mine," I said sternly. "My dad insists."

"I think I can cover a couple bucks. You can buy me a beer next door." Tim walked toward the register, nodding at the officer who turned to look at him. He paid the check and then walked into the restroom.

The officer turned in my direction for several minutes. Why was he staring at me?

When Tim returned, he tossed a five on the table as I got out of the booth. Then he walked behind me as we left the diner.