Hannah. (Van Den Bosch #7)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Johan

The past few hours have been so intense that it feels like the day should be over already, but of course, it’s nowhere near. We are at the Horse of the Year Show in Birmingham, just Hannah and me. Outside of the grounds, the air carries the scent of fresh hay and dirt. It’s loud, with the cheers of the crowd wrapping around us. It feels like a date, even if it shouldn’t. Why does everything I do with Hannah feel like it carries so much meaning and weight?

When I’m with her, my rational thoughts evaporate like dew off the afternoon grass. It worries me as much as it intrigues me. Knowing that this is Elise’s little sister used to keep me on a tight leash. After all, I still had hope for that relationship to work out. Now, though, there is only Hannah and the somewhat shocking realization that I never felt like this about her older sister. With Elise, it was a warm, sunny feeling; an easy attraction to a beautiful girl that I shared interests with. Everything was easy with her. Nothing is easy with Hannah. She feels like a whirlpool, and I can’t escape her pull.

Come on, man. Focus on the show. This line of thought will get you nowhere.

“It's been a while since I've been to a horse show,” I tell her as we enter the arena. Then, with a slight smile pulling at the corners of my lips, I add, “And this is the best one we could have attended. You’re such a lucky girl to be here with me.”

Hannah immediately chuckles, shaking her head. “I’d almost forgotten how humble a man you are.” She pauses for a beat, glancing around the arena, and then her voice goes playful. “Well, I hope the show is as good as you say. I’ve never been into horses.”

“Oh, it is,” I quip back before looping her arm in mine and dragging her towards our section. “I’m surprised you’ve never been before. Your sister was quite the equestrian.”

Hannah gives me a look and wrinkles her nose. “Can we please not talk about Elise right now?”

I snap my mouth shut and shove my hands in my pockets. “Sorry.” Okay…a touchy subject. “You know,” I say, trying to sound casual as I switch subjects. “I've competed here before.”

Hannah glances around us, her eyes widening as she processes what I said. “Really?”

“Yep.” I wait, knowing that she’s hoping I’ll tell her more without her having to admit her interest.

As we walk through the grounds, I see her looking up at me expectantly a few times before blowing out a breath of defeat. “And how was it? Fun? Exciting?”

“Fantastic,” I admit, finding myself smiling at her. “I wasn’t even sure if I’d compete that year. My main horse was one that no one expected a lot from. But I knew better.”

Hannah nibbles her bottom lip, still trying to keep up that appearance of aloofness. She’s adorable. “Oh. Um. Why didn’t anyone think he would do well?”

“It’s a long story.” I hand our tickets to the attendant at the front gate while explaining it to her. “I got her when I was thirteen, and she was already trained for dressage, but she had too much…I guess you could say wild energy for it. Show jumping was my area of competition, and my dad tried to talk me out of choosing that particular mare for days. But I had made up my mind. Many people would have gotten rid of her because they were convinced she’d be too hard to handle, but I worked with her. I was young and dumb, and I was sure I could fix her.”

Hannah looks at me with wide eyes. “And did you?”

I feel a glowing fondness, remembering those days and that damned stubborn mare. “To some extent, I did. All that energy made her a fantastic show jumper, even if Dad never wanted to admit I was right.”

We finally arrive at our assigned seats, and I gesture for Hannah to sit before I do so beside her. “But she was a good horse, right?”

I laugh. “Yes and no. It wasn't easy. She had a lot of bad habits. She’d fight against being handled. She'd bite. She’d kick. I wasn't afraid to get hurt because I was a teenage boy, dumb and brave. That's why I was the one who got her. I just told Pa, 'Give me this horse. I'm going to turn her around.' And then I did.”

“Wow. I’m surprised you stuck it out. Honestly, I don’t think I’d have had the patience.”

“Patience is something I have in droves if the situation is right.” I pause for a beat, thinking something through. “The broken things, animals, people…they are often the best and the most amazing of the lot. They need a little extra work, is all.”

There is a color high on Hannah’s cheeks, but she doesn’t say anything. I can feel her energy switch, and for some reason, it reminds me of our time together at her brother’s wedding and the warm smell of her vanilla perfume as I pulled her close to me in her grandmother’s office…

No. No fucking way!

I cannot think about that and how foolish of a move it was, especially now that I have her all to myself today.

“So, what event are you most excited about?” I ask her in an attempt to distract myself from my reverie.

Her face lights up with excitement. “All of them.”

“Okay, smart aleck. You have to choose one.”

“Fine,” she sighs. “How about jumping?”

“Jumping is great. We'll stay for that.”

“And dressage,” she adds, tilting her chin up.

I look down at her, the sun glimmering off her long, dark hair. “Do you know what that is, or are you just throwing out equestrian words now?”

She smirks up at me, her eyes sparkling with joy. “More or less. But I think I’ll have fun watching whatever you want.”

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Why's that?”

Her smile falters, her expression almost achingly genuine. “Because you're here.”

My breath catches. Her comment was unexpected. Hannah is not like her sister at all, and this is a good reminder. Elise would never have said something like that. She was a flirt, but it was calculated, never saying anything that could be perceived as vulnerable; Hannah, however, is so… real. She wears her heart on her sleeve. It's refreshing.

“Then I hope I’m a good enough companion to make it worthwhile for you, Miss Van Den Bosch.”

Our conversation stays light, but I can’t deny that having her here, with me on my arm, makes me want to puff out my chest with pride. Hannah is dressed in a white henley shirt, her beige chinos fitted perfectly against her little body, and riding boots, shined to a mirror sheen, hugging her calves to her knees. Her long hair hangs straight and loose down her back, and the wind has given her the most attractive flush on her pale cheeks. She looks like she belongs here.

She looks like she belongs here with me .

I glance at Hannah, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the spectacle before us. As silly as that sounds, I feel a certain pride in being the one to introduce her to all of this, even if it’s just a horse show.

“Quite a sight, isn't it?” I say, my voice barely audible over the thundering hooves and the excited murmurs of the crowd.

Hannah turns to me, her lips curving into a smile that lights up her eyes. “As much as I hate to admit it…you are right. Yeah, it is.” Her Dutch accent adds a melodic note to her words, and I can’t help but find it charming. “It's like they're dancing on air.”

“That's the beauty of show jumping.” My eyes follow the elegant arc of a rider clearing a daunting jump. “The seamless harmony between rider and horse is key; a single misstep and it's a dusty tumble straight to the dirt.” Absentmindedly, I rub the back of my neck, the ache of dozens of minor injuries lingering. “Don’t ask me how I know.”

Hannah laughs, her gaze fixed on the arena. “I’d have paid anything to see that.”

I chuckle softly. “I should’ve known you’d like to see me thrown from horseback. You’re such a charming lady, Hannah. So kind.”

Her attention switches back to me, a playful glint settling in her eyes. “Is your sarcasm always so on point?” she asks, her shoulder lightly brushing against mine.

“It's a nobleman's gift.” A smirk plays on my lips. “Or so I'd like to think.”

Her hair, a cascade of coffee brown, catches the sunlight, and her eyes, a deep shade of hazel green, reflect the excitement of the arena. Despite the playful exchange of words, there's a warmth between us, a connection that defies explanation. A connection that is going to get me in a hell of a lot of trouble if I explore too much further.

I start repeating a mantra in my head, fisting my hand when I almost lay it on her knee. She’s Elise’s sister. She’s sixteen. She’s Elise’s sister. She’s sixteen.

Another rider takes the stage in the arena, and we fall into a comfortable silence, both captivated by the sheer skill on display. The crowd’s collective gasp fills the air as a particularly daring jump is executed flawlessly.

“That was incredible,” Hannah breathes, her eyes wide with amazement.

I nod, my gaze never leaving her face. “Indeed, it was.”

She’s Elise’s sister. She’s sixteen!

We watch the competition, deeply engrossed in the show until I feel Hannah's grip on my arm. She did it like it was the most natural thing in the world. I let her be, but looking at her, I can’t help but wonder what she's thinking. It's interesting to watch a horse show through the eyes of someone who has never been to one.

I remember going to shows when I was young and being entranced by the horses. The smell of hay and horseflesh, the neighing and the sound of hooves on pavement, and the clank of horseshoes in the farrier tent...they're sounds I've heard hundreds of times now.

It's like coming home.

As a little boy, I always dreamed of the day I'd go in the ring myself. Riding was just part of my life, as it is for most families around me. That didn’t mean it was easy for me to get good at the sport, though. I had to work for it like everyone else. Being here now, as a spectator, feels strange. Watching Hannah watch the show has its perks, too. I find myself waiting for her to ask questions so that I can impress her with my knowledge. I know it's stupid. Immature, even.

Still, the fact that I want to impress her says a lot about what's going on inside me.

I try to ignore the way her arm feels tucked into mine. As the wind blows into her hair, I can smell her shampoo, and I have to keep reminding myself to focus on the horses, not her. The horses are what are important here , I tell myself. Just watch the horses.

“This is crazy,” Hannah murmurs, her eyes on the arena.

My stomach drops. Can she possibly know what I’m thinking? The thoughts that I definitely shouldn’t be having about her?

“It's so much better than I thought.” Hannah’s tone is soft, almost entranced, and I find myself fascinated by her. There's something about how she is taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the equestrian center. I've seen this place a million times, but now, looking at it with her by my side, it's like seeing it for the first time.

Before, she was just Elise's tall younger sister. Now, it feels like I've known her my whole life. I'm not used to getting attached to people so quickly, which scares me.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, needing a distraction from the intensity of my thoughts.

Hannah is happily surprised. “Yes.”

Standing, I offer her my hand. “Let’s go, then. I'll show you the food tents. You'll love it.”

We weave through the stands until we’re again in the open vendor area.

“You know,” she says, following me. “This is fun. Horses have always been Elise's thing, but I can see the draw—even if it smells a little.”

Sliding her a look, I say, “I thought we weren't supposed to talk about Elise?”

“I can,” she clarifies haughtily. “But not you.”

My mouth quirks up at the corner. She’s jealous. I know enough about her to pick up on that, at least. A memory resurfaces in my mind of Elise watching Dan talk to the random girls her brother had invited to their vacation rental and the fiery jealousy in her eyes, and I have to repress a laugh. “Okay. Fair enough.”

She quickly changes the subject. “So, how often have you been to events like this?”

“Hundreds of times.”

She stops in her tracks at once, her eyes wide. “That’s crazy.”

“It's the truth.” I shrug. The food tents come into view, and the smells of everything being grilled and fried make my stomach rumble.

“You know,” Hannah says, looking thoughtful, “it's weird. Growing up, I always heard about Elise's boyfriend from the equestrian camp, but you were different than I expected when she first brought you to dinner. Even now, you're still surprising me.”

The subject matter catches me off guard. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean…” she looks up and blows out a breath. “Never mind.”

Her words make my pulse kick up. I slow down and grab her hand to make sure she slows, too. “What? Go on. I want to know.”

Hannah glares at me like she can’t believe I’m forcing genuine words and feelings out of her. I get it. Compared to her siblings and their brash, heated personalities, Hannah is more reserved. Shut off from the rest of the world…but not to me. Finally, she speaks again. “I was expecting an arrogant, privileged prick. Someone who was all about his looks, status, and money. You know, like most guys at my school. But you’re not. You're so...you're real.”

I stop in my tracks and stare at her, completely taken aback.

“What?” Hannah says. There’s a worried edge to her voice. “What, did I say wrong?”

You didn’t say anything wrong, you beautiful, brilliant little thing. You’ve said everything right. “No one has ever called me 'real' before.”

She snorts delicately. “That's hard to believe.”

“It's true.” All around us, the world is moving. The crowd presses in, but it's like I'm in a secluded little bubble with Hannah. All I see is her. “I always get accused of putting on the aristocrat act.”

“So it's not an act?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

“No.” Then I clarify. “Not with you.”

“Oh, Johan.” Hannah presses the back of her hand to her forehead. It takes me a breath to realize that she’s being sarcastic. It annoys me because I know she’s using it as a defense mechanism. “That's the most romantic thing anyone has ever told me.”

“I mean it.” Despite her sarcasm and the chuckle that follows suit, I keep my tone even and my eyes on hers.

The volume of Hannah’s words soften with sincerity. “I know you do.”

Both of us hesitate, the moment becoming heavy and laden with emotion. I have another entire day with her, and I don’t want to ruin it by making her uncomfortable, so I take pity on her and gently tease her back. “And it's not just because you're...the little sister of someone I'm not allowed to mention.”

Hannah crosses her arms, waiting for me to continue.

“Whatever. My point is, Hannah, it’s been nice getting to know you.”

She gives me a shy smile, and my heart swells.

“I'm not just saying that. I mean it.”

“Fantastic,” she says, quickly linking her arm with mine again. “But you said something about the food tents….”

We continue strolling around, and the tantalizing aroma of freshly cooked food that fills the air reaches us as we make it to the tents. The lively chatter of the crowd surrounds us, creating a vibrant atmosphere. It’s the perfect atmosphere for a date, actually…but this isn’t one. I glance at Hannah, her eyes alight with curiosity, as we peruse the array of culinary options.

“Well, what do you fancy, Miss?” I ask, my tone light. “A taste of English tradition, perhaps?”

She chuckles, her eyes scanning the options. “I'm feeling adventurous today. How about some fish and chips?”

“Excellent choice,” I reply, leading her to a bustling food stall. “Even if it is the furthest thing from adventurous.” We place our order and soon find ourselves with plates of golden-brown fish and crispy fries. Our playful banter continues as we search for a secluded spot to eat. We don’t get close to the vulnerability we skirted the edge of earlier, but that’s okay. Being with her is nice, even if things stay surface-level.

We settle under the shade of a sprawling oak tree, the dappled sunlight creating a pleasant ambiance around us. The first bite of the fish is heavenly, and I can't help but let out a contented sigh. Hannah joins me, her expression mirroring my own satisfaction.

“This is amazing,” she says between bites. “I never knew fish and chips could be this delicious.”

I nod in agreement, savoring the flavors. “One thing we got right.”

As we enjoy our meal, I notice a male figure standing at a distance, watching us intently. Dressed in a long coat and sunglasses, he seems out of place compared to our cheerful surroundings. My curiosity is piqued, and I steal glances in his direction, trying to discern his identity. Is he a stranger, a passerby, or someone with intent?

I can't shake off the feeling of unease that settles in my stomach. Is this person connected to the mysterious Amelia? Or could he be a staff member of Hannah’s family, sent by her parents to keep an eye on us and ensure I don't overstep the boundaries of friendship with their precious daughter? That idea is almost funny, but the man hovers long enough that there isn’t any denying that we are the object of his attention.

Despite my growing concern, I choose not to mention the observer to Hannah. I don't want to spoil the day with unnecessary worries. Instead, I focus on our conversation, laughter, and the shared moments that make this day unforgettable.

Eventually, the mysterious man turns away and disappears into the crowd. I heave a sigh of relief, and my attention returns to Hannah.

“How is your progress on your master’s degree? Almost done?” she asks out of nowhere, her voice filled with genuine interest.

I take a sip of my drink, savoring it before replying, “It’s doing great. I’ll be done this year.” Then, thinking of teasing her some more, I ask, “Do you remember what I’m studying?”

She nods, dipping a chip into a paper cup of ketchup before popping it into her mouth. “Heritage Studies at Cambridge.” My brows rise in astonishment; I wasn’t expecting her to actually remember. Before I can comment, she says something that makes me pause. “I want to go to Cambridge too when I finish high school.”

For a split second, my heart flutters with a feeling I shouldn’t have: hope. I try not to let the news affect me, joking about it instead. “It’s good to know you intend on going to college.” I bump my feet into hers, causing her to avert my gaze. “But I can’t help but notice you want to study at the same college that I’m at…what a strange coincidence.”

When she looks back at me, a mischievous glint appears in her eyes. “Maybe I want to go just to cause you trouble. Be an annoying little sycophant. What do you have to say to that?”

I arch an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “You? Troublesome? I don’t think so.”

She giggles her laughter like a melody that brightens the surroundings. “Well, I've heard it's a great place for learning. Plus, I already know the topic I want to study there.”

“And what might that be?”

“History of Art.” Her excitement at the prospect spills over her entire face. “I've always been intrigued by the world of art and collectibles. The history and value behind each piece… that sort of thing.”

I remember her strange, perfectly organized cache of treasures that she showed me at home. I had thought it was a weird hobby for someone from Hannah’s family, but it charmed me, just as her excitement does now. “Hence your collection of odd things?”

She grins, but there’s something reserved about it. “Exactly. I find beauty in the unconventional.”

Wiping my fingers on a napkin, I can’t help but say, “And here I thought you were just trying to decorate your room with eccentricity to spite your parents.”

“Oh, sure. But it serves that purpose too, of course.” She wiggles her fingers before her as she speaks, emphasizing her words. “There's a deeper connection, a fascination with the narratives behind each item. All the little stories that want to be told.”

“It's a rare gift, Hannah. You look beneath the surface. Most people aren’t like that.”

Her smile softens, and a vulnerable look shines in her eyes. “Thanks. You’re the only person I’ve ever shown my collection. Except for Elise more recently, but she’s so nosy I’m sure she’d have found out on her own.”

The mention of her sister touches something within me, a mixture of emotions I can't quite place. It’s not nostalgia, but I’m afraid it’s the knowledge that I liked Elise as a person, but I’m interested in Hannah differently. In this moment, I feel a connection, not just with Hannah but with the trust she has placed in me. The world around us seems to fade as I realize the depth our bond could take on if we continue seeing each other like this. Hannah already feels like a dear friend to me. Gosh… she’s Elise’s sister. She’s only sixteen.

Again, I look at her and feel like I’m falling. It doesn’t hurt that she’s beautiful and surely be even more so in a few years. Hannah’s beauty is darker, more mysterious, and enigmatic than her sister's, but when she smiles, she lights up like the moon at its fullest.

I have to get a hold of myself. Even if she weren’t so young, I have to return to Cambridge after the show, and Hannah to Amsterdam. She’ll be spending time at school with peers her age, and there will inevitably be at least one boy who will see how special she is. The idea makes me want to grit my teeth, but I settle for taking an oversized bite of fish after covering it with malt vinegar.

Hannah watches me, her eyes squinting slightly. “Johan, are you okay?”

No, I’m not okay. You’re gorgeous and fascinating; I want to kiss you until you can’t breathe. And there is no damn way in the world that I can have you. “Yes, I’m fine. Let’s get back to the show.”

The next evening, the sun dips low, painting the sky in warm orange and deep purple hues as the day wanes. We stand on the airport tarmac, charged energy passing through the air between us. Hannah’s eyes mirror the twilight, and there is something in her gaze that I just can’t read—some secret desire that she isn’t putting a name to.

I don’t want to let her go, even if that thought is ridiculous. The past two days have flown by so fast that I didn’t even register how painful it would be to watch her leave, and now the hurt of it is slapping me in the face. I’m terrible at goodbyes, but it’s not like I can walk away without giving her one. Words elude me, but as I remember our conversation about college, I muster the sincerity to say, “If you want to get in at Cambridge, I’ll help you out.”

Her lips twist into a smile different from usual, lighting up her face. “I should be okay, but thanks.”

A pause lingers, heavy with unspoken sentiments. Should we hug? Should we kiss? The air hums with anticipation, a charged silence between us. Hannah steps closer, her lips brushing my cheek in a soft, tender kiss. “I enjoyed the show. It was fun.” Her words carry a depth that tugs at my heart.

A fleeting smile graces my lips, and my chest constricts with the bittersweet sting of goodbye. “I'm glad you did,” I murmur, my voice barely audible. “Safe travels, Hannah. I hope to see you soon.”

She turns away, her figure silhouetted against the vibrant sky as she boards the plane.

I stand there, rooted, her kiss lingering on my cheek, the feeling of it burning into my brain. The sun sinks beneath the horizon, and I'm left with a sense of longing. Hannah has etched her presence deep within me, and as the plane door shuts, I'm filled with yearning…but also hope. Hope that our paths will cross again, weaving our lives together somehow.

Hands in my pockets, I walk back to the waiting vehicle. After getting inside, the driver closes the door behind me with a soft thud, and I find myself lost in thought once more. I look out the window, hearing the plane's engines roaring to life, drowning out the world, and the aircraft starts its journey, carrying her away from me.

My fingers graze the smooth surface of my phone, thoughts of Hannah swirling in my mind. She is special, so incredibly special. How she makes me feel, the ease with which laughter flows when she's near—it's a sensation I can't quite describe. I contemplate pouring my emotions into a text, confessing how much I treasured those fleeting moments together.

You are really special, Hannah. I enjoyed spending those two days with you. I hope we can see each other again soon. Have a safe flight. X , I type the text, my thumb hovering over the send button. There’s a vulnerability in those words, a raw honesty that I hesitate to reveal.

She’s too young for you. Get it through your dense head.

The harsh reality holds me back. Her age, both of our locations, Elise being her sister…damn. It’s too much. Giving her false hope would be cruel, and if someone else reads the text, I’ll have a lot of explaining to do, so I delete it and opt for something simpler: Have a safe flight!