Once a Rebel. Sheri WhiteFeather

tail and barked.

      “You’re not coming with us,” Ethan told him.

      The dog barked again, only louder this time. Then he whined and looked at Susan.

      “Why can’t he come?” she asked.

      “Because he’s a pest.”

      “I don’t mind.”

      “So you say. Just wait.”

      “We can’t leave him here. Not like that.” By now, the Lab was practically pleading, howling like the con artist he was.

      Most veterinarians owned animals that behaved. But not Ethan. He adopted every stubborn creature that came his way. “He’s going to try to mooch off our plates.”

      “I’ll fix him his own plate.”

      “That won’t pacify him, but I’m game if you are.” He started down the trail. Susan took the spot next to him, with Chocolate padding confidently beside her.

      They rode on a sun-dappled path, their horses moving at a relaxed pace. The sky was the color of a robin’s egg, and the ground offered shades of brown and green. Most of the area was flat and clear, but in the distance, live oaks dotted the terrain like Texas-bred sentries. Farther out, a grouping of hills made a regal statement. Ethan loved this land. To him, it represented God’s country, a place where the world stopped to sigh.

      Rabbits darted past, making Chocolate perk his ears. But the dog didn’t leave Susan’s side.

      They headed for the live oaks, where they decided to have their picnic.

      The path they traveled narrowed, so Susan fell into step behind Ethan. He could hear Serene’s footsteps as she picked her way through the brush.

      Once they reached the oaks, the trail opened onto a grassy slope. “How’s this?” Ethan asked, stopping beneath an enormous tree, where branches reached across the sky.

      “It’s perfect.”

      After they dismounted, he tended to the horses and she spread a blanket on the ground, smoothing it over the bumpy surface.

      Chocolate danced in canine delight, sniffing the air in anticipation, waiting for the foodfest to begin.

      Susan looked up at Ethan. “Did you raise him from a pup?”

      He glanced at the dog and the silly beast had the gall to grin. “No. I’ve only had him about six months. He was homeless and hanging out behind Red, the Mexican restaurant in town, begging for burritos and what-not. The owner felt bad for him, but he was making a nuisance of himself, barking at the back door all the time. My girlfriend, Amber, was a waitress there, so she brought him to me.”

      She patted the pooch’s head. “And you had no choice but to keep him?”

      “Amber wanted him, but Chocolate was too rambunctious around her son.”

      She unpacked their lunch. “Your old girlfriend has a child?”

      He nodded. “A two-year-old. Truthfully, I miss her little boy more than her. But she reunited with his father, so they’re trying to make a stable home for him.” He stretched his legs and saw how frayed his jeans were. Susan’s, he noticed, were brand spanking new. “It’s what she wanted all along. I was her rebound, but I knew that from the beginning.”

      “No love lost on your part?”

      “No. How about you?”

      “I’ve been in two serious relationships, but my career got in the way both times.” Her voice turned analytical. “I have a difficult time balancing my work and my love life.”

      Ethan thought about his mom, then quickly brushed her aside. He didn’t want Susan to know that his mother had chosen her career over her family. Or that his dad had never gotten over her. “I’d like to have a wife and kids someday, but I don’t let it consume me. I’m used to being single.”

      “Me, too. But it gets lonely sometimes.”

      “Yeah, but it’s better than a crappy marriage.”

      “Amen to that.” She fed the dog first, a lunch that he gobbled up in record time, nudging her for more. She obliged, then gave him an apple to play with while she and Ethan filled their paper plates with chicken, fruit and potato salad, keeping the cookies packed and out of Chocolate’s reach.

      All too soon, the dog got bored with the apple and begged off Susan’s plate, just like Ethan knew he would. He’d been trying to break Chocolate of that habit, but he didn’t have the heart to scold him. The mutt had forged a cozy spot for himself, resting his head in her lap.

      “You’re a bottomless pit.” She fed Chocolate more chicken, and he licked his chops.

      “I can hardly blame him,” Ethan said. “This is good.”

      “Thank you.” She smiled, making him envy the dog.

      She looked pretty in the afternoon light, with her honey-colored hair and green eyes. Chic and sophisticated, even in jeans and boots and her lipstick wearing off.

      He glanced at her mouth and wondered if she would let him kiss her when their date ended. Or would that be crossing the friendship line?

      “Our timing is off,” he heard himself say.

      “Why? Because I don’t sleep around anymore?”

      “I didn’t mean it like that.” He removed bottled water from the saddlebag and took a swig. “I’m impressed with the way you grew up, but I miss you having a crush on me.”

      She set her half-empty plate on the blanket. Chocolate was no longer interested in her food. He’d fallen asleep in her lap. “It wasn’t a healthy crush. Nothing I did then was healthy.”

      Ethan drank more water, but he wasn’t able to cool his heels. “So now you’re tempering your feelings for me?”

      “I can’t go back in time. I can’t become the old Susan, the girl who acted out her pain.”

      He longed to touch her, to glide his fingers along her jaw, to comfort the girl she used to be. “I don’t want to go back in time, either. Can’t we separate the past from the present? Start over somehow?”

      “I don’t know. Can we? I’ll bet you haven’t forgotten any of those rumors. I’ll bet they’re still occupying your mind.”

      “Can you blame me?” He looked up and saw a hawk dive from a tree branch and sail into the air, like a red-tipped angel taking flight. “You were so sweet, so vulnerable, but you were wild, too. It drove me crazy.”

      “I was trying to fill the void inside me. The emptiness that wouldn’t go away.”

      “I knew you were mixed-up, and I wanted to make everything better. But I didn’t know how.”

      She released a deep, emotional breath, stirring the dog, making him open his eyes for a second. “It wasn’t your job to fix me.”

      Maybe not, but he was paying the price now. She’d fixed herself, and he was left with nothing but his memories. “I wanted to pound the crap out of every boy who touched you,” he said. “But there were too many names being bandied around. I never knew what to believe.”

      “I didn’t have as many lovers as everyone said. The rumors got blown out of proportion.”

      “I was so damn jealous, especially when I heard that you were helping some of those guys lose their virginity.”

      A mild breeze rustled the leaves above their heads, intensifying the moment. He couldn’t help it. He was still jealous, still primed for a war party. But he knew she wasn’t going to name names.

      “There was only one boy who was a virgin,” she finally said. “But at the time, so was I.”

      Ethan frowned. “Then how