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“Yeah.” He laughed and nodded toward the dunes. “They came down over the hill. Stopped, right here.” He pointed a few yards away. “I was kicking a soccer ball around over there. I stopped, put my foot on the ball. I was scared if I moved even one muscle, they’d spook.”
“What did they look like?” The ocean had polished her skin with its salt and made her face glow.
“They were white with brown spots.” Rhett briefly closed his eyes, to recapture the memory. “Slender and agile, like teenagers. They grunted and snorted while they played. Long, silky manes that blew in the wind. Obviously they had no shoes or saddles or reins or blinders—none of that stuff we’re used to seeing on horses. They were completely free.”
When Rhett opened his eyes, Stanzi opened hers, too. “I was picturing it,” she said.
“I can’t believe you remembered that story.”
“Why not?”
“I only told you one time. And it was months ago.”
She shrugged, her cheeks going a little pink. “Nobody forgets a story like that.”
They held each other’s gazes for a moment before Rhett glanced up at the dunes, at the place the wild horses had both come from and disappeared to. This was the spot he always came to when he needed to be alone. When he needed to think, or make a hard decision. When he felt lost. This was the first place he came to, after every deployment. He didn’t even go to his own house. He came straight here, did not pass go or collect two hundred dollars. Came straight out here with a six-pack of Fat Tire and just basked in the freedom and isolation. Something about staring up at the dunes and picturing those horses made everything a little bit easier. The wild horses were his reset button. His reason to keep going.
Stanzi turned her body to face him. “You okay?”
Rhett rubbed his hands together. He was starting to feel cold. “Yeah. You?”
Stanzi shrugged and took a step closer, as though she sensed his chills and wanted to share her body heat. “Yeah.”
“How was the run for you?”
Stanzi’s mouth turned down at the corners. “It was—” a little dent over her eyebrow that she got when she was confused deepened “—like I’d never run before.” Her skin sprung with gooseflesh and she gave a little shiver.
Rhett smiled. The air smelled just like it had the day he saw the wild horses playing—like salt and sand and crabs hiding in their tunnels. “Good. Let’s get you inside before your lips turn blue.”
They went inside to an empty house. Meara had left a note that she and Domingo had gone shopping. The air-conditioning felt like ice and the house was silent as stone. Constance closed herself in her bedroom and turned on the shower. She slipped Rhett’s shirt off and held it to her nose. He’d sweated all over it during their run. His sweat smelled like lavender and sea salt. She held it there a long time.
Then she took a long, hot shower, which felt amazing after being in the cold ocean. She’d forgotten her body wash, but there was bar soap in the tray affixed to the wall. As soon as she sudsed it up and smelled the lavender, Constance knew the soap had been here since Rhett’s last visit home.
Once she’d gotten the chill from her bones and all the sand and salt from her hair, she turned off the water and wrapped herself in a big blue towel that had been folded neatly and set on the closed toilet lid. Meara had probably put it there before she went out, as it hadn’t been there this morning.
Constance made her way back to the bedroom, where there was a full-length mirror on the closet door. The vertical blinds over the sliding glass door that led to the deck were open, letting in a wash of natural light. The room had sand-colored walls with a seashell border done in a stamping design, which led Constance to believe Meara had redone Rhett’s childhood room into a guest room. Nothing screamed teen angst like dark walls or old band posters. Instead, the decor was Modern Beach Daydream.
Constance opened her towel and looked at herself—really looked at herself—for the first time in weeks. Yes, she’d noticed changes in her face and body over the passing months but never, even in her running days, had she given herself such a hard appraisal while completely bare.
She closed the towel up and walked to the bedroom door. “Rhett?” she called, wondering if he would answer. Silence passed, which told her his parents hadn’t yet come home. She was just about to close the door again when soft footsteps came down the hall. Rhett’s dark head appeared around the corner. His pace quickened when he saw her peeking out. Constance opened the door for him.
He eyed the towel.
Constance waited.
He came inside and pushed the door closed behind him. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
He stood there in silence, wearing a fresh pair of shorts and a T-shirt. His hair was wet, a glossy black color like raven’s feathers, and he smelled like the same soap Constance had used. “Are you sure?” He eyed the towel again.
“Yes.” Constance was highly aware of the single piece of fabric that separated her naked body from Rhett’s searching gaze. “I just wanted to ask you something.”
“Sure.”
“Why’d you invite me down here?”
Rhett hesitated, but finally spoke. “I told you. Wanted to get you running in a new environment. Reintroduce it, so it wasn’t attached to negative stuff in the past.”
