[BOOK TWO]
Once a deep and powerful connection between two people has been made they become a vital part in each other's lives and there is no separating them. No measure of distance or duration of silence can prevent the outbreak of smiles and laug...
"HEY, Sierra!" The young girl heard her older sister call out, sounding happy and excited. She had been staring out across the lush green fields while she sat in her windowsill, a small pillow against her back.
"What's up?" she asked Jemma with a raised eyebrow, seeing the wide smile stretched across her face.
"Grandma told me today is the perfect day to go riding," Jemma replied brightly, walking over to her. "You want to come?"
"You don't even have to ask."
Minutes later, King and Jewel were galloping across the Tennessee grasses with two laughing girls on top of them. Jewel was a stunning brown and white American Paint horse and was secretly the younger Page's favorite as she scratched behind the mare's ears. Jemma rode King, a grey American Quarter stallion with a thin black mane and tail. Both girls were riding bareback, not really feeling up to lugging out the western saddles that Grace had in the barn.
The curly-brown haired woman had been correct; it was the perfect day to be outside. The sun was shining radiantly down and only a few clouds painted the blue sky. As the sisters wandered down a trail going through the woods, skyscraper trees held jade green leaves and colorful blossoms. The scent of pine calmed Sierra; she had only been away from California for a week, but missed it deeply. Her thoughts were often consumed on how Lydia was spending her summer alone, since Allison was with her father in France, or whether Scott was working on summer school like he promised his mom. Then, a boy with moles dotting his cheeks and neck infiltrated her brain and her heart tugged at its strings.
Jemma eyed her younger sister in concern, knowing she was upset. That's why she offered to go riding, so Sierra could escape her mind for a bit. Tennessee was very different from California, and it was evident, but there was something about this place that was magical. It had helped Jemma find herself when she was lost in her younger years, and hoped it would help her teenage sister too.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
When they were nearing the barn to give the horses a break for the day, an unknown figure was working on the shed placed right next to it, nailing some wood with a hammer. He looked to be pretty tall, wearing a simple navy V-neck with old blue jeans and brown worker boots. His hair was a dark shade of mahogany and when he glanced up as they arrived, his chestnut eyes sparkled as the sun reflected in his irises. A breathtaking smile spread across his mouth while he wiped his forehead with his arm and then set the hammer down.
"You must be James," Jemma greeted kindly, hopping off of King. "My grandmother told us about you."
"All good things I hope," the teenager joked in reply, shaking her hand that she held out. Sierra felt goose bumps raise on her arms from how smoothly he talked and bit on her lip, casting her gaze to the floor after she got off Jewel. "James Wilkinson at your service; Grace told me her granddaughters were visiting. I'm guessing you're Sierra?"
