“I know this doesn’t make up for the years of pain that you’ve suffered, because I have no idea what it is like to lose my parents, but I am so sorry you had to go through that. I won’t push you to talk to me about it, but I am here for you if you ever want to,” Wes whispers against my hair as he kisses the back of my head.
“This is going to be too hard for me.” My voice comes just above a whisper.
“You might be able to help this little girl, Kenleigh.”
“How? How do you know that? You just saw what happened to me down there. The memory of what happened to my family is not something I like to relive, Wes.”
“I don’t know how. But, I think with the both of you sharing something so personal, so similar, maybe you can help each other.”
I turn over in his arm and hug him to me. Silently, we just lay there and hold each other. I let his words sink in. Maybe he is right. Maybe I can help her, and she can help me. The more I think about it, the more comforting the idea becomes. “Are you ready to go back downstairs?” he asks.
I take a deep breath before I answer. “Yeah. I’m sure everyone is wondering what the hell just happened to me.”
“Look at me please?” I lift my face to him and stare into his breathtakingly beautiful eyes. “Listen to me. You do not owe anyone an explanation.” His tone is soft. The corners of my lips tug into a slight grin as I nod. “Good. Now show me a genuine smile.”
With the heaviness of what’s just happened drifting away, my eyes cross, and a wide smile showing the majority of my teeth spreads across my face.
A boisterous laugh erupts from Wes. “Smartass.” He laughs and slaps my ass.
Immediately, my funny face drops, and I smile a legitimate smile and revel in his good humor. “Thank you,” I murmur.
“I told you before, and I’ll tell you again and again until you realize it, I will always catch you.” His eyes are soft and genuine, and in this moment, I can feel myself really falling for him. My hands glide up his solid arms, wrapping around his neck. Slowly, I pull his mouth down to mine and capture his lips. Neither one of us deepens the kiss. We don’t need to. His lips caress mine in a tender and soft, but at the same time, powerful way. It’s beyond perfect.
Stepping outside onto the back porch, I search the grounds for Mrs. Sandy. Wes held my hand as we walked down the stairs, and squeezed it reassuringly. He knew when we left the room that I still wasn’t one hundred percent better, but I pulled strength from his comfort. Just as we hit the bottom of the stairs, he pulled me into one last hug before releasing me. I’m certain Mrs. Sandy has her suspicions, but we’ve never confirmed anything to her. Although Wes and I slept together this past Friday night, we never discussed what that entailed for our relationship, or if there is one.
Finally, I spot her by the barn, and wave in hopes that I’ll catch her attention. I run down the steps and across the yard to where she stands next to a young girl with long, wavy, auburn locks. I come to a stop right behind the girl when Mrs. Sandy says, “Oh, hey, Kenleigh. I want you to meet someone.” She puts her hand on the girl’s shoulder and introduces us. “This is Bailey.” Cautiously, the girl turns around.
Big, blue eyes meet mine. The empty, hollow look is one I’m all too familiar with. A pang of hurt stings my heart when I realize that I can relate to this girl. I know what she’s been through—what she’s still going through. Bailey’s dark green T-shirt and denim jeans hang off her frail, pale frame. It’s as if I’m looking in a mirror, but instead of seeing my nineteen-year-old self, I see my old twelve-year-old self all over again. The only thing that separates us is the color of our hair.
It’s a flashback of me when I walked into school on the first day of my eighth grade year. My clothes were two sizes too big. Everyone stared at me. I had even heard rumors that people thought I had an eating disorder. I didn’t care what they had to say; I let them believe whatever they wanted. My appetite was nonexistent after the death of my mom and dad. The only reason I ate was to appease my aunt. With a slight shake of my head, I banish those thoughts. I’m not twelve anymore. I have come too far, and I refuse to fall back into that crippling depression.
“Hey Bailey. I’m Kenleigh.”
“Hi,” she whispers as she casts her eyes toward the ground.
“Are you excited about these next two weeks?”
She doesn’t answer; instead, she shakes her head. I can remember feeling that way when I went to my first horse ranch, too.
“Bailey here has never ridden before,” Mrs. Sandy says, interrupting my thoughts.