I promise
Eliot grew up on horseback. He loved everything about the stables, the sounds, the smells, the horses. There wasn't much in Kentucky except music, horses, and the Army, and by eighteen, Eliot had taken part in all of them. Aimee hadn't spoken to him in two weeks, and Eliot had been carrying around a ring for longer than that. He'd been planning on giving it to her for over a month, but when he'd gone to MEPS, she'd slapped him and told him she didn't want to be with someone who would be gone for most of the year.
He'd dealt with it by working harder at the stables than he ever had before. He threw himself into training Philadelphia, the horse Willie had his eye on. He rode and rode until 'saddle sore' was miles behind him.
He didn't understand why the ring felt so damn heavy in his pocket. He didn't understand why he couldn't just put it back in its box and bring it to a pawn shop, which was where it belonged now anyway. He should have known better than to buy it new and he'd done it anyway.
Which was why he was so surprised when Philadelphia reared up and it was Aimee's voice that shouted out a command and brought him down hard on his hooves. Eliot hadn't even had time to react, but with Philadelphia prancing, muscles quivering, he could appreciate Aimee's way with horses. She had just the right amount of control to -
“Where are you going?”
He blinked at her, his fingers tightening on the reins. He had half a mind to give Philadelphia his head and head for the woods. Instead, he took a deep, controlled breath (like the high school counselor had taught him), and said, “Excuse me?”
“For training. Where are you going, Eliot? How long will you be gone?”
“Ten weeks at Fort Benning for basic, another few months for AIT...”
“Months?”
He shrugged, and she glared at him.
“I don't want to stand around waiting for years, Eliot.”
He readjusted his hands on the reins, and Philadelphia shook his head impatiently. Eliot leaned forward, patted him on the neck, and slid out of the saddle, tying the reins to a tree. Aimee took an obvious step back from him, her arms crossed defensively. She looked like she was about to run, and Eliot cautiously reached out and touched her arm. The ring felt very heavy in his pocket.
“You know I can't promise anything, Aimee.”
She wavered, and took the step back toward him. She let him pull her against his chest, and he tried to slip his hand into his pocket without her noticing.
He failed.
“What is that?”
“It's, uh...” he fumbled, and deflated, letting out a deep breath. “It's the closest thing to a promise I can give you.”
She leaned back and raised her eyebrows at him. “You just said...”
He groaned, “I know, just... take it, okay? I'll be back, and we'll... we'll give this a real shot.”
Aimee looked at him skeptically, and Philadelphia bumped his head solidly against Eliot's back. Aimee let out a laugh and reached around Eliot, running her hand down the horses nose. “Okay.” She laughed again, shaking her head, “This is crazy, Eliot. Okay.” She let him get the ring on her finger before she spoke again. “But if you don't, Eliot Spencer, I will never forgive you.”
Those were the words he thought of every time the DI's took phone privileges, every time he took a hit for his country. He thought about it every day he was a POW, and every day after the United States of America stopped looking for him. He didn't stop thinking about it until they met again and she wouldn't even look at him.
Somehow, he told Nate everything and nothing when he asked. It took everything he had not to tell Aimee the same things.
He'd dealt with it by working harder at the stables than he ever had before. He threw himself into training Philadelphia, the horse Willie had his eye on. He rode and rode until 'saddle sore' was miles behind him.
He didn't understand why the ring felt so damn heavy in his pocket. He didn't understand why he couldn't just put it back in its box and bring it to a pawn shop, which was where it belonged now anyway. He should have known better than to buy it new and he'd done it anyway.
Which was why he was so surprised when Philadelphia reared up and it was Aimee's voice that shouted out a command and brought him down hard on his hooves. Eliot hadn't even had time to react, but with Philadelphia prancing, muscles quivering, he could appreciate Aimee's way with horses. She had just the right amount of control to -
“Where are you going?”
He blinked at her, his fingers tightening on the reins. He had half a mind to give Philadelphia his head and head for the woods. Instead, he took a deep, controlled breath (like the high school counselor had taught him), and said, “Excuse me?”
“For training. Where are you going, Eliot? How long will you be gone?”
“Ten weeks at Fort Benning for basic, another few months for AIT...”
“Months?”
He shrugged, and she glared at him.
“I don't want to stand around waiting for years, Eliot.”
He readjusted his hands on the reins, and Philadelphia shook his head impatiently. Eliot leaned forward, patted him on the neck, and slid out of the saddle, tying the reins to a tree. Aimee took an obvious step back from him, her arms crossed defensively. She looked like she was about to run, and Eliot cautiously reached out and touched her arm. The ring felt very heavy in his pocket.
“You know I can't promise anything, Aimee.”
She wavered, and took the step back toward him. She let him pull her against his chest, and he tried to slip his hand into his pocket without her noticing.
He failed.
“What is that?”
“It's, uh...” he fumbled, and deflated, letting out a deep breath. “It's the closest thing to a promise I can give you.”
She leaned back and raised her eyebrows at him. “You just said...”
He groaned, “I know, just... take it, okay? I'll be back, and we'll... we'll give this a real shot.”
Aimee looked at him skeptically, and Philadelphia bumped his head solidly against Eliot's back. Aimee let out a laugh and reached around Eliot, running her hand down the horses nose. “Okay.” She laughed again, shaking her head, “This is crazy, Eliot. Okay.” She let him get the ring on her finger before she spoke again. “But if you don't, Eliot Spencer, I will never forgive you.”
Those were the words he thought of every time the DI's took phone privileges, every time he took a hit for his country. He thought about it every day he was a POW, and every day after the United States of America stopped looking for him. He didn't stop thinking about it until they met again and she wouldn't even look at him.
Somehow, he told Nate everything and nothing when he asked. It took everything he had not to tell Aimee the same things.