Trading for Love

12. To Little

Vincent POV

I sat at the table, working to keep my temper under control. Charlotte had walked out without a word, without even a glance at the contract that had been prepared for her. Every word in that document was there for her protection, I had been sure of it. Jeremiah had sent me three different versions of it to be sure that I was happy with all the guide lines. He had watched Charlotte leave the room, his mouth falling open as she disappeared without a word to me.

" Jeremiah, close your mouth, you'll catch a fly that way." I grumbled, heaving a sigh as I stepped away from the table. Jeremiah instantly snapped his mouth shut, running his hand back through his gray and thinning hair.

" Does she realize who you are?" he asked, his eyes still glued to the door she had left through.

" Yes, but she isn't like everyone else." She was either fearless or reckless, which was still yet to be determined.

As I entered the kitchen, everyone froze, stopping what they were doing to bow their heads to me. This was something that had carried over from my fathers time as Don. It was a show of respect that acknowledged my standings. I nodded to them in turn, taking a quick survey for Charlotte. The backdoor was slightly ajar, letting in a stream of golden light from the morning sun.

I stepped forward pushing the door open to see Charlotte ducking into the barn. I forced another deep breath as she disappeared from sight. What she was doing at the barn was beyond me.

With a deep breath to help lower my rising anger, I started across the garden after Charlotte. As I walked I couldn't help contemplating what I had gotten myself into with this marriage. Was I really ready to deal with a wife so obstinate when I had such a short temper? Then as if right on cue, Charlotte emerged from the barn again, this time, on the back of Coal.

That stupid horse had bucked every rider I had set on him and now there was Charlotte, riding the damn thing and bareback no less. I took off running, my dress shoes sliding on the still dew covered grass. I knew running was no use but that didn't stop me as I watched Coal gallop around the barn and past the arena. Charlotte pulled his reigns back in an attempt to slow him down but Coal clearly had other plans.

Coal reared up, his front legs coming off the ground as he attempted to throw Charlotte and that was all it was, an attempt. Charlotte held strong, her legs staying locked on Coals sides, her hands still knotted in his mane and the reins. Her auburn curls flew back from her face, revealing her look of determination. Not a shred of fear to be seen on her face. I slowed, awe over taking me as I watched her. She was gorgeous. The morning sun shown on her, highlighting her face and curls. She looked so natural on that horse, even if it was one that was liable to hurt her. Coal dropped back to the ground, bolting for the woods line, Charlotte hunched close to him. I watched as her hair flew behind her, her lips drawing into a smile that I could see even from my spot in the garden. Charlotte was different, and the more I noticed her, the more she stirred feelings in me. Charlotte was suppose to be my safe option but she was quickly proving me wrong.

Charlotte POV

It was liberating. Somehow I had managed to swing myself onto the horse, stay on it while it reared up, and now we were racing through the woods, twigs snapping against my arms as it barreled down a narrow dirt path. My legs were burning from gripping the horse, the stitches on my hand had long ago busted, blood soaking the reins I held but I knew the moment I let up, I would no longer be safe.

Finally the horse started to slow down, his gallop fading into a trot and then a slow walk as it's energy wained. I slowly raised up, keeping my grip on the reins and mane. Better safe than sorry for now. The horse continued on, walking at a leisurely pace until we broke through some brush, revealing a creek. The horse immediately stopped, dropping its head to drink heavily from the running water.

I dropped from its back, almost collapsing as my worn legs took on weight again. Slowly I released the reins, letting them drop from my still bleeding hand. When the horse made no move to run, I stepped back, gauging the state of my hand.

Vincent's careful stitches were destroyed. The once connected skin was now loose, dripping from the jagged line that had been ripped into my hand. The skin was red and angry from the abuse of holding the reins so tightly in my hand. With a sigh I gripped the sleeve of my t-shirt, quickly ripping the fabric. Using my good hand, I wrapped my bleeding one up, tightening the knot with my teeth. It was crude but for now it would work.

I turned back to the horse, running my good hand across his neck and through his mane. He had stopped drinking at some point but stood watching the treeline across the creek. As we stood there it occurred to me that I wasn't entirely sure of how to get back to the house. With a deep sigh I patted the horses neck.

" This may be the stupidest thing I've done in a long time," I grumbled.

With the sudden snapping of twigs another horse appeared in the clearing, this one gray with a white chest patch, and on his back, sat Vincent.

" That may be an understatement," he growled dismounting. Vincent stepped forward, his impressive build towering over me. Vincent grabbed my elbow, holding me in place so there was no chance of escape.

" Now, kindly tell me what the hell were you thinking?!"