The First Law of Love (22 page)

Somehow I was sure the answer to that was
yes
.

Clark and Wy had spent the day smoking up about ten pounds of pork, and it smelled amazing. It was a full house tonight, all the girlfriends in attendance; I couldn't help but pretend that Case and I were a couple too. I fantasized about this, watching him covertly. He and Clark talked near the grill for quite a spell, but Case would set his eyes on me every so often, just so, catching me straight in the center each time. Once he smiled, for only me, the kind of private and intimate smile that lovers exchange, and I lost complete track of what Sean's girlfriend Jessie was saying; luckily she was a little drunk and didn't exactly notice.

And tonight we were staking out his property. I still wasn't entirely sure what this would entail; all I knew was that it meant I was allowed to spend extra time with him and I was greedy for every second. By the time dinner was over I was surely visibly resonating with excitement. When Clark asked if I wanted to play cards, which they were setting up even now, I said, with what I prayed was a casual tone, “I'm so tired tonight. I think I might head home.”

“You've had a busy week,” Clark allowed. “Come back for dinner tomorrow, if you have a craving for pulled pork sandwiches.”

I went on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, telling him with all sincerity, “Thank you.”

I bid everyone good-night, keeping my eyes from Case with every ounce of effort I possessed. In my car, which smelled deliciously of sagebrush now that I had a sprig of it on the dashboard, I drove with the radio off, through the gorgeous quiet night, out towards Ridge Road. The nearly-f moon was so distracting out the passenger window that I almost drove into the ditch before I reached Case's house. I took it slowly and carefully through the yard, mindful of the animals; already Mutt and Tiny were crowding the car. I parked on the far side of the trailer; the chili-pepper lights were lit, throwing cheerful red-orange light in a circular splash across the yard.

The air was so still that I could hear the sounds of the fair back in Jalesville, tinkling music, the faint swell of delighted screams from people on a ride, and the sounds of someone speaking through a microphone, bouncing off the foothills and to my ears. I bent and hugged the dogs close to me, letting them lick my face. Cider came out of the barn to greet me and I went to her at once, climbing up the fence and throwing my arms around her neck. I kissed her nose and blew a gentle breath into her left nostril, murmuring, “Now you'll remember my scent too.”

I kept near her, resting my forehead on her warm neck, the dogs jumping up my legs for attention. I closed my eyes and pictured Case out there in the night, riding towards me on Buck, coming closer even now. I shivered. Waves of heat sliced through me and I clung even more tightly to Cider, who nickered and let me hold her. I wasn't sure how much time had passed before I heard hoofbeats thudding on the ground, matching the pace of my heart. And then there he came, riding into view.

“That is a hell of a moon,” he said, drawing Buck into the corral. He dismounted with a graceful motion and patted the big buckskin twice, then turned him loose. I could not tear my eyes away as he walked over and hung on the fence beside Cider, inside the corral. He looked at me and smiled a little, his face washed silver-white in the milky moonlight.

“It seems twice as big as I've ever seen it,” I agreed, my breath shallow, all charged up now that he was near. Cider belly-bumped him and he elbowed her firmly away, saying, “No crowding now, you know better.”

“I'm nervous, now that we're here,” I admitted. I rushed on, “I mean, about finding anything out there.”

“Likely no one will even show up,” he said. “I wouldn't let you come with if I thought it was going to be dangerous, I hope you know. And if we see or hear anyone, I'm calling the police, first thing. Our local sheriff is Travis's dad, Jerry Woodrow.”

I asked him, softly, “Will we walk?”

Case was watching me intently and didn't seem to hear my question; I promptly forgot what I had just asked. He was just on the opposite side of the fence, hardly more than an arm's length away.

Oh God, kiss me, please, just one kiss so I have something to remember
…

Oh God
…

He blinked then and refocused his attention on Cider, rubbing her neck. He answered me with, “No, we'll ride. I'll saddle up Cider for you. She's a little calmer than Buck, even though she's younger.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“You ready to ride?” he asked, low and soft.

Oh, if only you knew
…
if only I could tell you how I feel
…
what I want
…

I nodded again and he pushed off from the fence with both hands. I followed him into the barn, not about to waste a moment in his presence; he clicked a couple of bare, overhead bulbs into life and I turned in a slow circle, admiring the space. It was large and cavernous, with a full loft loaded with bales of hay. I heard a muted clucking coming from somewhere beyond the stalls, one of which was occupied by Buck, crunching loudly on something as he intermittently stomped his back hooves.

“Can I see the chickens?” I asked excitedly, and Case, who was lifting a saddle from its holder, grinned and shook his head, teasing me.

“You really are a city girl, aren't you?” he said.

I felt an uncomfortable twinge at those words, deep inside, but said brightly, “It's not every day you get to see where eggs come from, firsthand.”

“They're back here,” Case told me, leading the way. “I made them what amounts to a chicken coop.”

I followed close behind, studying the slope of his shoulders, taut now as he continued to carry the saddle, the way his red-gold hair caught the light, how the bottom edge, at the center of his neck, was shaped into a comma. The way his jeans fit just so; I was gazing at his back pockets when he stopped abruptly and I plowed into the back of him, putting my hands up to catch myself against his back.

Hard, warm, solid muscle beneath my hands, though I snatched them away as if I had just touched the surface of a stove. Case looked over his shoulder at me, shifting his grip on the saddle, but I had already composed my face into a look of polite interest, hands safely at my sides. He said, “There they are.”

“Do you have a rooster?” I asked, truthfully fascinated by all these animals. The hens were roosting in an enclosure surrounded by chicken wire, their feathers a combination of soft gold and black.

“No, just these three,” he said.

“
Can
you get eggs then?” I asked.

He snorted a laugh and I felt my face heat up a thousand degrees. He said, “Just not fertilized ones.”

I laughed then too, rolling my eyes at myself, embarrassed to meet his gaze. He laughed even harder, teasing, “Didn't you take biology in school?”

“Well it's been a few years,” I defended. I caught sight of the rabbit then, a floppy-eared gray one in its own cage, appearing asleep.

“Oh my God,” I said. “My twelve-year-old self just went to pieces.”

Case, still laughing a little, looked over at me and knitted his eyebrows, clearly asking what the hell I meant.

“I begged for a bunny that year,” I told him. “My birthday is right around Easter, so I thought it just might happen.”

“That's Penelope. You can hold her if you want,” he said. “Just lift the latch on the top there.”

“Really?” I said delightedly. I stepped around him and opened the top, reaching carefully to scoop the bunny into my arms. She was about as big as Peaches, but a thousand times softer. She struggled at once, kicking with long back legs, so I set her back down; she immediately darted to the far side and turned her rear towards me.

“You'd think rabbits like to be cuddled, but they don't,” Case said, as though in apology. He shifted the saddle again.

“Next time,” I said, supposing there was a next time.

Back under the night sky, Case whistled to Cider, who trotted directly to him. He saddled her up, me at his shoulder, observing intently. When he was through he asked, “Have you been horseback before?”

“Just once,” I told him.

“You'll do fine. Just step light into the stirrup, on the left there,” he said, indicating. He stepped back to allow room, and I gripped the saddle with one hand on each of its curves, getting my boot into the dangling leather foothold. Cider jostled a little, nickering, and Case went to her face at once, taking it between his hands and speaking low to her.

“There's a good girl, a sweet girl,” he murmured, while my insides sizzled and melted, by turns. I felt hollow again, ill at ease and aching with longing, no respite from it in sight. With determination I settled into the saddle but couldn't get my other boot situated.

“I can't quite reach the stirrup on the far side, but otherwise I think I have it down,” I said, and Case moved around Cider's head, to the opposite side where he steadied the stirrup so that I could slip my boot into it; with the lightest of touches, he curled his right hand around the back of my calf, as though to help me, and fire torched instantly up my leg. I almost couldn't repress a small sound. He didn't look up at me and was in fact very still, though his thumb moved slowly up and carefully down, almost imperceptibly stroking me before he shifted into efficient motion, tightening something on Cider's bridle, near her face again.

Beneath me, between my legs, the saddle felt as though it was vibrating.

“Here's the reins,” he said, businesslike now, handing me the two leather straps that looped over Cider's head.

I took them carefully into my hands, begging him silently,
Look up at me, please, Case, acknowledge that you just touched me like that
…

As though hearing my thoughts, he did look at me then, his eyes luminous in the moonlight, and my heart came close to pounding through my ribs. He explained quietly, “Hold them with just a little slack. I trained her myself, so she responds well. She'll follow Buck and me pretty easily. Just say if anything is wrong, all right?”

“All right,” I whispered.

He said then, “You'll get cold. Did you bring a sweatshirt or jacket?”

“In my car,” I said.

“I'll grab it,” he told me, jogging to do so. He ducked into his trailer to get one for himself, while I patted Cider, rubbing her neck. She seemed all right with me on her back; I noticed that her ears twitched around like radar and she kept making little nickering sounds. She seemed to like lifting up her right front leg, then letting her body sink that direction. Was she trying to communicate with me somehow?

“Here,” Case said, handing up my sweatshirt.

“Thank you,” I told him, carefully slipping it over my head as he climbed atop Buck, looking so natural there, and brought the big buckskin to my side. Cider nosed at her brother and sidestepped; I overcompensated and tugged too hard on the reins.

“Oh shit, sorry girl,” I said, leaning to pat her neck. “I didn't mean to do that.”

Case nudged Buck forward and curved his hand around Cider's ear, stroking her. He said, “She's just fine. Nothing you do could hurt her. Besides, she has to adjust to you too. Your weight is a lot lighter than she's used to. No one but Gus or me has ever ridden her.”

“Not your wife?” I heard myself ask, then mentally cringed so deeply that my brain probably appeared as curled up as a cooked shrimp.

Without missing a beat, Case said quietly, “No, she wasn't much for animals, one way or the other.”

I was dying to ask more about her, but wisely bit my tongue. Instead I asked, “Do you ride much at night?”

“I do. There is something about it,” he said, sitting so comfortably in the saddle. He looked so totally at home there and again, deep in my mind, I felt a stirring, a flickering. I thought of Camille and Mathias, how they believed that they had known each other before this life, in another. I was skeptical as hell about such things, teased her time and again. But here I sat, uncertain how to explain to myself that I had, inexplicably, ridden horseback with this man before tonight.

What in the hell?

I know this and even knowing this, it
'
s insane.

“Shall we?” he asked, ever the gentleman.

“You lead,” I invited, tightening my knees unconsciously around Cider, who lifted her feet as though about to start prancing.

We took it at a steady walk at first, on the wide left shoulder of the gravel road. There was enough room for the horses to walk abreast, though Case insisted that he and Buck take the outside, closer to the road. I felt so protected, marveling that such a simple gesture from him could cause this feeling to well up inside of me, fountain-like. Our knees, his left and my right, were very close as the horses plodded along, their hooves occasionally crunching gravel, though the shoulder was mostly softer ground.

“I was telling Clark the other night that the air out here feels wilder than back home,” I told Case, tipping my chin to study the sky. In the scope of this landscape, especially in the black of night, I felt tiny as a speck of dust. It was awesome in the truest sense of that word, inspiring complete awe.

I sensed his eyes upon me, though when I looked his way, he too was studying the sky. The moon was close to silver-dollar in the sky, lifting higher with each passing minute. It was spectacular, so immediate that it created within me the sense that I could actually reach up and get my hands around it.

“It is,” he said at last. “I haven't been many other places in my life, I admit, but I've been away long enough to realize I can't be away. Call me a redneck, but my heart shrinks up inside of a city.”

I thought of Chicago, the vast insanity and city-splendor sprawling in all directions. The place where I planned to live and work and spend the rest of my life after this summer. My voice was a little hoarse, but I could pretend it was from the crisp air as I replied, “I think if I'd been raised out here, I would completely agree.”