S H I L O H
The air cooled several degrees, meaning the sun was almost, if not already, gone from the sky. Wooden gliders squeaked against the porch as I rocked. The faint chirp of crickets rose from the distance as if they were approaching in a synchronized advancement. The snuffling of the horses was a comfort. No people shouting or horns blowing. The symphony of the Colorado countryside was my new favorite thing.
After a three-day drive from Baltimore, the quiet was exactly what my tired mind and body needed.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose. An involuntary sigh left my lips as I exhaled. “Love that,” I whispered.
“It’s the rain.”
The deep voice startled me. I was so lost in my own thoughts I didn’t hear Nate approach.
“It’s really just the wet dirt, ‘cause I don’t think rain actually smells, but that’s what we always associate it with.” The seat next to me creaked as Nate sat down. His basic explanation of the smell of rain made me smile. “I’m sorry I was an asshole back there.”
Nate’s voice held regret, and I immediately forgave him. Over the years, if I’d taken every comment about my blindness to heart, I would be a sad, miserable person. It wasn’t always easy to do. Words had the power to hurt like nothing else, almost as much as someone you loved not believing in you.
My world was a constant blend of me trying to live as a non-disabled person and being treated by others as a disabled person. I couldn’t change what other people thought of me, but I could control what I thought of myself. People had a very black and white view of blindness. It took many years for me to be comfortable to use myself as a learning tool to show the vast spectrum of vision loss.
“Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen,” I suggested, my version of an olive branch.
“Yes, please. I guess I was just surprised that you’re, um, ah . . . visually impaired,” he stammered. I was warmed by his hesitant attempt at political correctness.
“Honestly, I assumed Mira had told everyone.” Then again, it didn’t surprise me she hadn’t. Mira never treated me like the ‘blind friend’. I was just her friend Shiloh, who also happened to be blind. My lack of sight, though a part of me, didn’t define me.
“Well, she didn’t, and to be honest, you don’t ride a horse like a blind person.” His statement made me giggle.
“You see a lot of blind people riding horses around here, Nate?” I teased.
“Um, shit, well . . .”
“Nate, relax. I’m just messing with you.” I was going to have to go easy on him. His confidence had been shaken.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he mumbled, frustration lacing his words.
“Do what? Talk to someone?”
“No, talk to someone who can’t see me.” The groan from the chair told me he’d stood. The heel of his boot tapping against the porch floor vibrated the wood beneath my feet.
“Why would that be an issue?” I leaned forward and tilted my face in the direction where I thought he was. In an odd way, I was truly enjoying this awkward conversation. It put me at ease to know I wasn’t the only one navigating new waters. Nate seemed to speak without a filter, and in a weird way, it was comforting. I didn’t have to guess what he was thinking or wonder if he was hiding anything.
“Because I look hot, and you can’t even appreciate it,” he grumbled.
His exasperated tone had joyful laughter bubbling through me. His low chuckle told me he was laughing, too, so I didn’t feel like a total ass. When I got myself relatively under control, I stood.
“You didn’t have any trouble talking to me at the paddock.” I tilted my head, listening for his response.
“That’s because I thought you could see me. Now I feel stupid for all the charm I was throwing to impress you.” Even with a hint of joking in his voice, there was also truth behind his words.
“Come here.” I held out my hand and waved him toward me.
“Why?” he asked, his voice wavered like he thought I was going to do something bad.
“I’m going to appreciate your hotness.” I wiggled my fingers to encourage him. His soft chuckle told me I’d won, even before I felt his warm, rough hand on mine. When he stopped two arms’ lengths away, I stepped to him. His warm breath staggered slightly, blowing over my forehead. He was at least a head taller than me. “I’m going to tell you how you ‘look’ to me. Ready?”
Without waiting for his answer, my fingers drifted over his hands, up his exposed forearms, the light sprinkling of hair tickling my fingertips, to the cuffs rolled just below his elbows. His soft cotton shirt was warm like his skin. I traced up his firm biceps to his broad shoulders, and pressed my face to his chest, inhaling deeply. The scent of fresh laundry and spicy soap greeted me.
“I smell detergent, so I’d say your shirt is clean, and based on the way it hugs the tight muscles of your arms and chest, it’s a perfect fit. And something tells me it matches your eyes.”
His breath quickened.
When my fingers reached the top of his collar, I pushed them through the soft hair that landed just above. The waves would probably curl the longer it got. As my nails raked over the back of his skull, he groaned.
“Lean down.” I urged his head down so I could press my nose into the nape of his neck. “You washed your hair. It’s still damp, and mmm, smells amazing. Like fresh pine and spices.” I pulled back, cupping his face in my hands, and dragging my fingers down his cheeks to his chin and then his neck. “You shaved recently, and your skin feels incredible.” As my hands passed over his chest, the pounding of his heart beat against my palms. A thrill coursed through me. “How’re you doing, Nate?” I was enjoying myself, but I didn’t want him to feel like he had to do this.
“I’m good,” he rasped out in barely audible words.
“Good as in I should stop, or as in I should continue?” I froze, not knowing what he wanted me to do.
“For fuck’s sake, don’t stop.” He laughed.
“Okay.” I grinned. Without lifting my palms off his chest, I moved them down over his stomach. “Nice.” I loved the way his muscles jumped and twitched under my touch. His shirt was tucked into his jeans, a thick belt through the loops. The stiffness of the material let me know he was wearing his nice clothes, not his work ones.
I bit my lip and slowly slipped my hands around his hips and down over his tight ass, pausing to squeeze, before sliding them down the back of his legs. I hoped like hell the squatting position I was in didn’t flash everything in my short dress.
After feeling my way over his boots, I stood up, clasped my hands in front of my stomach, and smiled up at him. “You wore your dress boots and the good jeans that hug your ass just right. All and all, I’d say you were right. You are looking pretty hot tonight.”
“Holy shit, Shiloh,” Nate gasped, laughing once the words left his mouth.
“Well, how’re you feeling, Nate? Better?” During my exploration, something between us had changed. The awkwardness was gone, a different kind of tension taking its place. “Nate, you gotta say something. Don’t leave me hanging here,” I squeaked, hoping I hadn’t made a mistake.
“I’m feeling really fucking appreciated, Shiloh. I think I like the way you see me.” His voice was closer as if he was inching back to me. I leaned into him, wanting to experience the warmth of his body again.
The click-clack of approaching footsteps stopped me from reaching for him.
“We’re about to have company.” When the hinges creaked, I faced the door and smiled, waiting to find out who was there.
“Ready, brother?” Ryke’s low, rough voice was different than his brother’s. Nate’s, though deep, was about an octave higher. They both had a twang I loved.
“I’m gonna head in. It was great to meet you, Ryke.” I turned to where Nate had been. “Nate, can you hand me my cane? It should be next to my chair.”
“Uh, sure.” His movements sounded rushed as metal scraped over wood. “Here it is.”
My outstretched hand remained empty. I smiled at his common blunder. Soft laughter behind me led me to believe Ryke noticed, too.
“Nate, if you’re holding it out for me to grab, we might be here for a while.” I had to admit, I was having way too much fun at his expense.
“Shit,” he mumbled before the cane met my open hand.
“Thank you, Nate.” I tapped my way toward the door. “Oh, and Nate?” I glanced over my shoulder in his direction. “I hope to see you again.” I wiggled my eyebrows and laughed as the screen closed behind me.