Ride On

Chapter Five

I'm not sure what I was more furious about. The fact that he yelled at me, or the fact that he walked out and left. I noticed that I was getting a bit violent with Trigger's grooming.

Black and blue covered my hand, from the knuckles to a tiny freckle I had in the middle of my forearm. It's amazing that I didn't punch him.

Perhaps I love him too much?

That's out of the question now.

Easing up a bit, I glanced over where dad was having people build one of those fancy gates at the front of the driveway. He even had a clever sign being made with words saying 'Harrison Hills.'

Well, I might just be calling off the engagement now.

Don't look at me like that. The thought that crossed my mind was serious. You don't just yell at your soon-to-be-spouse when she's trying to help you. And you don't leave physical bruises on her. I hadn't hardly seen Chris mad before. What if he's like that all the time? Can't have that, now can we?

Then again...if you look it up online...our marriage was doomed. Apparently you have to be dating for a minimum of 2 years. I'd only known Chris 5 months when we'd gotten engaged, and now adding all that time, we have only been together for 1 year and 1 month. Frowny face.

I won't be tolerating his actions, and he might not think I'm serious. For now I simply called off the wedding.

Chris came up behind me, but I did not want to talk. "About last night-" he began, but I completely shut it down.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked quietly, causing Trigger to pin his ears at my malevolent tone. Chris paled behind me. I was far too angry in the moment to accept that it was a mistake on Chris's part, not intentional. Whipping around, I confronted him. "The wedding's off, take your useless rocks!!" I shouted, throwing the diamond ring back at him. He fell to the ground as I advanced upon him.

"It was a mistake, Eve, I didn't mean to!" He protested, scooting away on his back.

"You cussed at me last night! Not only that but you didn't apologize, and left in a blind rage!! I was trying to help! You know what? I've only seen you that mad once," I yelled furiously. "But that was the one time. And I won't have it!" I finished, shoving him away with my boot. "You'd best get out of here." I added in a whisper. The wind seemed to pick up in that moment, blowing away the stagnant broiling humidity.

"Listen to me," he pled. I ignored it.

"Do you see these bruises on my wrist, Chris? Take a good hard look. You. Did. This." I pointed out. "I said get." I spat, turning back around. He tried once more to sway me from my position, but with me ignoring him, he got up, entered his truck, and drove away.

After I got the bridle in Trigger's mouth, I tried to forget my anger for his sake. We rode up and down the pasture, weaving at a gallop in between the trees. He was incredibly frustrated in the beginning, what with my unusually rough hands.

Eventually I calmed down, and concentrated on cutting cattle.

I did it for no reason, really. Just to take my mind off of things. But every time I used my left hand to pick up the reins, something incredibly important to me was missing. It was mentally injuring. And every time I used my right hand, it was physically injuring.

I hosed Trigger down after the especially demanding ride, feeding him treat after treat and apologizing for my unacceptable behavior. He snorted, seemingly saying 'yeah right.'

I refused to cry. Not until people can't see me. Remembering the water fights. Remembering those late nights watching movies, and those rodeos. Why did I get so mad over such a useless thing? I mean, I had a good reason to be mad, but it's not like he hit me. It's not like he intentionally made me suffer.

I was still too proud to go back on my word, though.

Though my wrist was swollen, black and blue, physical injuries could heal. Mental ones took more time. I'm not sure if I was more scarred by the way he acted or the way I reacted.

And none of the guys let it down easy. Especially Pablo and my daddy. I literally walked in for lunch, and everyone wanted to know what happened. They all guessed that it was a horse thing - until they saw something missing. A certain silver ring, with beautifully fat diamonds embedded in it.

"Shut up so I can explain this to y'all once!" I croaked, voice becoming hoarse from how I yelled at Chris earlier. They immediately closed their jaws and allowed me to speak. I accepted an ice pack from Pablo gratefully. It hurt to even have an ounce of pressure on my bum wrist.

"Wait, where's your ring?" Kyle asked slyly. It took another five minutes to shut the guys up again. Sheesh. What animals.

"I'll say this once. And then accept questions one by one. No interrupting." I firmly added the last part, looking each of them in the eye. "Chris and I had an argument-" it wasn't long before I was interrupted again, this time by my father.

"Did he hit you? I'm firing him. Sick son of -" he started to shout, but I placed my good hand over his mouth, trying to ignore the fact that his mustache was tickling me.

"He did not hit me. It was accidental. But I've never seen him that mad, and don't want to risk it happening again. So I called off the wedding." I explained, thoroughly and carefully. "I'm also not hungry." I tried to tell Pablo off.

"Of course you are. Don't insult me, Eve." He spat with his accent. I rolled my eyes and took a baloney sandwich up to my bedroom.

Once I had gotten safely inside, I shut the door and locked it. The AC was evidently broken, so I opened a window and retreated to the bathroom.

After a cold shower, where I may or may not have bawled my eyes out, I crawled under my covers and turned the TV on.

To my dismay, I found that I wasn't able to watch any of my favorite movies without crying. Any movie that had anything to do with horses made tears spill without my consent.

The golden tinfoil in my trash can from the chocolate covered horses he gave me for my birthday last year made me want to puke. Everything that had anything to do with him upset me more than the day my pony Liberty died. More than any injury. More than anything in the world.

I could've stayed up here for days, had my father not forced me to get up and do some work.

Humph. Fathers.