Taming His Stallion [BWWM]

38_Tempers

Danny

Shit!

Tempers?!

What the heck?

Why was her childhood horse at some damned charity auction?!

Paege had parted unwillingly with her horse over a decade ago, and no doubt was still sore about that to this day.

I could tell–even now–she had never gotten over the loss. That's why she'd literally dedicated her entire adult life to taking care of horses, injured or otherwise. Because she missed her. The one she'd forged an irreplaceable friendship with, in her youth.

Loss was a fragile thing. It can warp the mind, and make things you'd thought you weren't otherwise capable of, seem less farfetched. But, to a child, it must have felt like the ground was caving in.

The loss of a loved one was never easy. But losing one after the other, the way she did, certainly drives the dagger deeper.

I'm still not sure how she managed to rise to prominence the way she did. Her loss would've surely been intolerable to another.

I supposed the flame wouldn't let her give up–give in.

Despite all she'd suffered, a fire raged within her. A flame–the desire to not just live but thrive. It had captivated me from the very first time we'd met. That fire called and I was powerless to answer.

I couldn't resist.

The pain in her eyes as she gazed upon her childhood companion, probably wondering if this was some kind of sick joke, rattled me in every way.

If that was even a fraction of what her father had felt, as he watched his wife nurse a broken heart, then on some level I understood why he'd done what he did.

I'd do anything to take away her pain. To shield her from the harshness of the world–from the pain, I'd caused her. I'd take it back in a heartbeat.

As pools swirled in her eyes, it appeared that Paege hadn't yet exhaled since she'd laid eyes on her horse.

Instinctively, I placed my hand on the small of her back, rubbing circles in a calming fashion while trying to table her agony, if even for a moment. "Breathe, Paege," I offered softly, so only she could hear. "Breathe."

My words seemed to reach her as she consciously made an effort to compose herself. Inhaling deeply and letting out a shaky breath before repeating the process a few times.

When she seemed to find her wits again, Paege set those mesmerising eyes of hers on me, taking my hand in hers and entwining our fingers before giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you," She said in barely a whisper, but I caught it.

With a small smile, I reciprocated, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, and mouthed the words, "You're welcome."

We both turned, taking in the scene that was playing out before us.

In all her musings, I'm certain she hadn't imagined this. That she'd attend the auction gala and once again cross paths with her childhood friend. I certainly hadn't, and I'm sure if Bell and Paege's friend were caught up to speed, they wouldn't either.

No one would.

Instead, I'm more than certain Paege had held on to the hopes that her companion was able to find a new welcoming and generous life with her new owners and–above all–that she would be looked after and cared for.