When she first mounted alone, she had her misgivings about whether or not this was a good idea. True, Doah was a good deal closer to the ground than Quinn or Kar Kalim had been, but there was no Dylan holding her securely from behind, either.
Certainly there were no moments of Dylan providing her with mindless ecstasy to erase her anxiety, either.
He was right there, though, at first guiding Doah and Alice on the lunge line. They stayed within the confines of the large enclosure at first, Alice and Doah making circles around Dylan as he held on to the lunge and patiently instructed her on riding basics. Alice’s nervousness faded by degrees, replaced at first by cautious optimism and, slowly, by the thrill of mastering a new task. Doah was extremely well trained and exquisitely sensitive to even her subtlest commands.
Finally, Dylan said he thought she was ready to take an easy ride on the path that led along the lakefront. He alighted on his chosen mount, a big chestnut stallion with fire in his eyes, and they headed at a slow pace toward the golden lake.
“Why are you so preoccupied?” Dylan asked her when they reached the portion of the path that followed the shoreline, allowing them to ride side by side.
She glanced over at him, squinting into the light of the dipping sun and the luminescent lake. “I was thinking about when you had us on the lunge there in the corral. I know it was probably my imagination, knowing what you’ve told me about how you trained Addie on her pony, but—”
“What?”
“It felt familiar. Like I’d done it before,” she said, her voice just loud enough to be heard above the horses’ clomping hooves. “Do you think it was a real memory?” she asked, keeping her gaze trained ahead on the path.
“Do you want it to be?”
“Yes.”
“Then it was, because it definitely happened,” he said. She looked over at him. Whether it was the bright, intense sunlight or her bubbling sense of happiness, she allowed herself to be on display. She was losing the ability to shield her emotions. Or maybe allowing herself to show her feelings was the real skill, after all . . . the true strength?
His expression stiffened, and suddenly he was urging his mount nearer to Alice and reaching with one hand for her reins.
“Whoa,” he murmured, pulling up on them. Guessing his intent, Alice tautened the reins. The horses halted, side by side. Dylan leaned in and down several inches, his gloved hand cupping her jaw, and he was kissing her, deep and thorough.
“Do you like Doah?” he asked gruffly, nibbling at her mouth a moment later.
“You know I love her,” Alice replied, her eyes closed. She felt dazed and heated by his drugging kiss and the warm sunlight.
“Good. She’s yours. Happy birthday, Alice.”
She blinked open her eyes. The sunlight blazed around his shoulders and head. She squinted, bringing his shadowed features into focus.
“What? My birthday isn’t until August twenty-eighth.”
He shook his head. Why did he look so sober?
“It’s today,” he said gruffly. He applied a pressure with his hand on her jaw and pressed his mouth to hers again. She kissed him back, her mind spinning. Distantly, she realized he was doing what he always did, comforting her with his touch when he revealed anything he thought she’d find anxiety provoking.
“Addie was born on July twenty-first,” he said a moment later next to her lips. He leaned back slightly and studied her face. “I thought you’d want to know.”
She inhaled shakily. “Of course,” she said, trying to focus her attention. “Sissy would have had to make up a date, wouldn’t she? Even there, at the hospital when she first saw me. Even if either Cunningham or her knew the actual date, which I doubt, they couldn’t provide it to the hospital and risk the chances of authorities checking the records.”
He nodded, still somber.
“Thanks for telling me,” she said. He looked doubtful. “No, I mean it. It’s weird to hear it, but it makes sense. Why would I share Addie’s birthday? That would be odd, under the circumstances. It’ll take some getting used to, but I’d rather know. I’m glad you thought I’d be . . . you know, okay hearing it,” she said, embarrassment hitting her when she recalled how weak and transparent she’d been in front of him and Sidney earlier at the hospital.
“I know you’ve had to hear and absorb a lot lately. I wasn’t sure about telling you. But it didn’t seem right, to let the date pass. Not when you’re back. There were a lot of birthdays that Alan couldn’t wish you happiness. Or me. It just didn’t seem right, to let another one pass,” he repeated gruffly, dropping his hand and straightening. They remained motionless on their mounts for a stretched moment, Dylan looking out at the lake, and she at his rugged profile.
“Do you ever think about what will happen if the test results say I’m not their daughter?”
Would you feel the same way about me, if that were true?
His chin turned sharply. “No. Are you thinking about that?”
“It’s always a possibility, isn’t it?”
His dark eyes ran over her face.