"There are ten stalls in this one,” I say, pointing down the hall where five stalls are located on each side. Each stall has a cast-iron gate with the names written on the top of each door. I walk past each one. "This is Prada, Misty, Ivy, Daisy, Sugar, Holly, Sierra, Poppy, Luna, and my newest girl," I say, pointing at the last stall, “Hope."
"What exactly do you do here?" she asks.
"There are really five different types of therapy that I work with,” I say as I walk into one of the stalls, and she stays outside. "Horseback riding helps with posture and muscle tone as well as coordination." I talk to her about the different types of therapy, and she listens to every single word, walking from one stall to the next as the horses come to the door. "You can touch them if you want,” I say.
"What type of therapy would you recommend for someone like me?" She turns to me. “Someone who was mentally and physically abused and left for dead,” she says, and I stop breathing. “Someone who begged every single day to die so their suffering would stop." She doesn’t look at me as she walks to the next stall, and her voice remains even. “Someone who went twelve days without eating because I refused to forge a bank paper to get my money early so they could spend it." I was wrong before. This right here is the hardest thing I will ever have to hear. “Someone who couldn’t even tell her birth mother what her fears were because she would help him and make them come true." My whole body goes rigid. “Someone who couldn’t admit when they were cold or hungry or thirsty because it would mean I would get none of those things. Someone who would have to shower in a gas station bathroom sink and not a nice bathroom either. I’m talking about the ones where people shoot up heroin and leave their needles behind. Someone who would sleep with toilet paper in her ears for fear that cockroaches would crawl inside them. Someone who is woken up in the middle of the night and told that we are going and the only thing you can pack is two pairs of jeans and a T-shirt, which is why I always have a bag packed. Someone who doesn’t even know what lemonade tastes like because all she could get is water. Someone who can’t even admit to this day that there are good people out there, especially when it’s right in front of my face." She turns, and I see the tears streaming down her face. I just look at her, unable to answer because of the lump in my throat the size of a fucking soccer ball. "What type of therapy would you give that person?"
I stare at her when I say the next words, knowing maybe she isn’t ready for it, but knowing that there is no better time. “Everything."
Chapter 22
Willow
I didn’t want to tell him any of what I just told him. I didn’t want him to know what I went through. Even if he saw me beaten almost to death, he didn’t need to know the other parts of it. He didn’t need to know the hell I lived in. That was my burden to carry and mine alone.
But with him here in the barn, looking at all the people who he helped, I wondered. Was I broken to the point where I couldn’t be fixed?
I didn’t even try to hide the tears, not after everything I just told him. His expression wasn’t that of pity, it was one of almost rage and sadness but not pity. I walk to the next stall to see the horse when his words stop me from taking another step.
"Everything." I look over at him. “You deserve everything,” he says, his own tear running down his cheek. "There is no one who deserves it more." His voice trails off at the end.
I smile at him shyly and walk all the way to the end of the stall, stopping right in front of Hope. "Hi," I whisper to her as she turns her head and looks at me. Her eyes almost matching mine, she nuzzles my hand, and I smile at her. “Good morning to you, too,” I say while her tail moves side to side.
"You can open the top of the gate,” Quinn says. "On the side is a latch." He points at the silver latch. There are two latches, one for the top and one for the bottom.
"Will it scare her?" I ask, not wanting to bother her, and he just shakes his head. I look back at Hope, who looks at me through the gated door. She is sizing me up just as I size everyone up around me.
"Just talk to her," he tells me. “As long as she can sense that you’re calm, she isn’t going to go crazy on you."
I unlock the latch and then look at her. “I won’t hurt you,” I say softly. The same words I’ve wanted said to me at least once. “It’s okay." I hold out my hand to her, and she takes a step forward but then goes back. "It’s going to be sunny today,” I say, not moving my hand as she moves her neck a bit closer. "You are such a pretty girl,” I say, and she sniffles or grunts. I’m not sure which one because I’ve never met an actual horse. I take a tiny step forward to rub her neck. “I won’t hurt you," I whisper. “I promise." She doesn’t move, but she does let me rub her neck. “What’s your story, Hope?" I ask. “What’s your story, pretty girl?" I look into her eyes, and I can swear she understands everything I say to her.
"She was left for dead,” Quinn says. "She couldn’t breed, so her owner just dumped her off at an abandoned farm." I look back at the beautiful girl in front of me. Her tail moves side to side. “She was skin and bones when we found her. She had one foot infected from an untreated cut. She had a scar on the side I’m sure she got from when they used to ride her and probably whipped her to go faster or whipped her to breed. No one will ever know."
"Oh my God,” I say, putting my hand to my heart. She comes forward, and her muzzle smells the arm in the sling. She bends her head and hits the hand with her forehead.
"She likes you,” Quinn says.
"Really?" I say, happy that she likes me. “How can you tell?"
"She’s making you touch her,” he says, coming next to me. “She is very picky about who she lets touch her.”
"Does she let you?" I ask, and he nods.
"Only because I feed her,” he says. “Do you want to ride her?"
I look at him, and I try not to show how much I want to ride her, but the smile on my face speaks volumes. “I don’t want to push her and make her do something she isn’t comfortable doing,” I say, and he smiles.
"We haven’t gotten anyone to ride her," Quinn says, turning and walking into the closet at the end of the hallway.
“It’s okay if you don’t want me to ride you,” I say, stepping closer to her and rubbing her neck. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do,” I say, and her brown eyes meet mine. "Promise."
"Let’s get the saddle on her,” Quinn says, and I move aside as he steps into the stall and talks softly to her.
"You going to let Willow take a ride?" he asks, his voice calm and reassuring. "She isn’t going to hurt you," he tells her. “And I’ll be right there." He ties the bottom of the saddle under her belly.
"Will that hurt her?" I ask. He shakes his head, grabbing the reins and walking out of the stall with her. "Let’s see if she is going to let you walk her out."
"What do I do?" I ask, and he smiles at me.
"Just walk out the door." He points at the open door at the end of the hall where we walked in from.
I hold the reins as I take a step forward, and she walks slowly beside me. Her eyes roam the room exactly as mine do when I walk into a new space. "Are you looking for a way out?" I whisper. “I do that, too,” I say as we take steps forward. When we get out of the barn, she looks around.
"She’s never done that,” Quinn says, coming out of the barn with a black horse by his side. "She trusts you." He smiles at me.
"Or she knows I’m just as broken as she is,” I say and then look at his horse. The horse looks almost purple in the light. “Is that your horse?"
"This is Lady," he tells me and touches her neck. “Let me help you get on the horse."
"Um," I say, looking at him when he walks up to me and puts his hand on my waist.
"You are going to put your foot in this." He points at the silver stirrup. “Then throw your other leg over."
"Okay,” I say, concentrating on the way his hands feel on me instead of what he’s saying. He picks me up without forcing himself. My f
oot goes into the stirrup, and I throw my other leg over. I sit on her, and she haws. “I’m sorry,” I say, and she doesn’t move.
"Be easy on her," Quinn tells Hope. “Don’t hurt her."
"She won’t hurt me," I defend her as I watch Quinn walk over to his horse, and he gets on her easily. His whole arm flexes even bigger than before, and I have to look away before I start gawking at him.
"Ready,” he says, and I just nod.
"We are going to go on a secret trail,” he says next to me as our horses walk side by side. I see Hope looking over at times and then turning her head to look forward.
He walks through the field into the trees, and when I look back, the trees slowly close around us. “So what are your plans?" he asks. "When you are free to leave here."
My heart speeds up when he asks me this. “I have no idea,” I say the truth. “I have nothing left of the inheritance." I look down, seeing Hope’s head go down also. “I have never been somewhere that I didn’t want to leave." Except now, I hear the words in my head. I don’t look over at him, and I also don’t tell him that staying here with him is tempting. "I guess this is as fresh of a start as I will ever get." We ride side by side. His hands never move from in front of him.
"If you could pick a place, what would it look like?" he asks, and I can see from my peripheral view that he is looking over at me.
"It would be where no one knows me," I answer honestly. “It would be where people would think I’m just someone else."
I look over at him. “Would you ever leave here?"
He shakes his head. “Nope, not for all the money in the world." He returns his focus ahead of him.
“Why?” I ask him.
“Well, for one, my family is here," he starts. “Second, my business is here. And third, this is where I want my kids to grow up. Running through the fields chasing their cousins. Going from house to house like a revolving door. Having someone have your back the whole time. I want all that for my kids."
"I’ve never had that,” I say, his words echoing in my ears. “The longest we stayed in one place was before Benjamin. It was for one whole year. I even made two friends." I smile, thinking back to the two girls who lived in the same building as me. "Rosalie even cooked dinner."
"What happened?" he asks, and I think about lying to him, but at this point, nothing he hears will have him think less of me.
"She had an affair with a married man," I start to say. “All was going well until the wife showed up at the door. It turns out, her father was like some big shot, and let’s just say we left very quickly.”
“That must have been hard,” he says, his voice soft.
"It was, but it was what it was, and nothing I could have done would have changed it." I learned that real fast. "Where are we going?" I ask, and then I stop talking when we come to an opening in the forest, and I hear the sound of water trickling.
I look at the creek ahead of me and then see a large rock in the middle of the clearing. “This is part of my grandparents’ land,” he says, stopping and getting down off his horse. “My aunt Kallie used to come here with my uncle Jacob when they were younger." He walks over to me, holding out his hand. I look at him and then the horse.
"I’m going to fall,” I say, not sure I can hold him with my one hand and then slide off.
"I won’t let you fall,” he says. “Trust me."
I look at his hand and then back in front of me. “I don’t want to fall,” I say.
I wait for him to use my fears against me. Wait for him to just yank me off the horse. But instead of all that, he says words that cut me to the core. "I promise you that as long as you’re with me, I will never ever make you fall.”
Chapter 23
Quinn
"Good morning," I say, sticking my head into Amelia’s office. “You’re here early.” I look at the clock on the wall and see that it’s only after eight.
"I have to leave early today." She puts down the pen in her hand. Amelia is my officer manager, and I don’t know what I would do without her, to be honest. She comes in and makes all the appointments and pays the bills each month and makes sure everyone has their paychecks. "I have to get to the bar this afternoon." She looks at me. “We have a couple of bands playing tonight, and they want to set up."
"You could have taken the day off,” I say, and she leans back in her chair. She is working two jobs, and no one actually knows this but she is silently buying the bar from our aunt Savannah, who wanted to just give it to her, but being the stubborn woman who she is, she fought her. I even offered to loan her the money, but she didn’t want to take it from me.
"Did you just get back?" she asks, and I nod, going to sit in the chair in front of her. "You like the morning rides?" She picks up the coffee and brings it to her lips, trying to hide the smirk.
For the past five days, we have come to the barn at five thirty and taken a ride. "You know me. I love to ride no matter what the time is."
"Where is Willow now?" She looks around, peeking over to the door and seeing it empty.
"She is mucking out Hope’s stall,” I say, shaking my head. After our first ride, she watched me for a couple of minutes and then walked over to grab a bucket and made sure the rest of the horses had water. I told her not to, but she didn’t listen. Instead, she just did what she wanted to. I told her to stop, but the way she smiled when she talked to the horses was everything. So instead, I watched her and made sure she was okay. "Then she’s going to make sure everyone has water and feed them." I lean back in the chair and stretch.
“She’s going to leave," I admit to Amelia, and just the thought makes my stomach ill. It makes my body go tense, and my anger comes to the surface. I have tried to ignore it, and I have tried not to think about it, but every single time I do, it just makes me sick.
“She already has one foot out the door,” Amelia says, sitting up and making sure it’s just us. “She hasn’t unpacked anything yet,” she points out. “She sleeps in her clothes at night,” she whispers. “She rotates between two pairs of jeans, washing one and then wearing the other.”
“You don’t think I know that,” I say. “Every single night, I go into her room to make sure she’s covered. She hasn’t even gone under the covers yet,” I say, and I lean forward. “I have no idea what to do."
"What do you mean?" Amelia asks.
"I mean that I don’t know what I need to do for her to relax,” I say, frustrated. "I don’t know what else I can do to make her feel like she’s at home." I run my hand through my hair.
"I finally got her to try on two pairs of jeans," she points out. “And she accepted my cowboy boots."
I shake my head. “I bought her a new pair. She put them on the floor in her room next to the black fucking bag,” I say through clenched teeth.
"Did she talk to you about what she is going to do after all this?" Amelia asks, and I look down.
"She wants to go someplace where no one knows her,” I say, and the pain in my chest is like a punch to the stomach.
"Why doesn’t she want to stay here?" she asks.
"Maybe because we know who she was before,” I say, not even sure if that is really the answer. “I have no idea."
"So why don’t you show her,” she says, picking up her coffee again. “Show her why she should stay here."
"By doing what?" I ask, my leg moving up and down, thinking that maybe if I can show her, she might think about it.
"Show her why this should be her home. Take her to the diner. Take her out and let people meet her and start fresh." She shakes her head. “God, how are you so stupid sometimes."
"I’m," I start to say. “I haven’t been sleeping," I admit to her.
"Whatever you do, Quinn,” Amelia says, putting her cup down and looking down at her hands, “don’t play games with her."
"How could you say that to me?" I ask, almost insulted by what she just said. “I would never do anything to hurt her." I get up.
"I never said anyt
hing about hurting her," she says, opening the drawer and taking out the white envelope. “I said don’t play games."
"Meaning?" I look at her.
"Meaning that if you aren’t in this for the whole ride, get off the horse,” she says, and I roll my eyes at her. "This is what you asked me for."
I grab the envelope and look inside. “Thank you."
"Oh, don’t thank me yet." She leans back and smiles. “You still have to give it to her." She shakes her head. “Good luck with that."
I turn, not willing to give her anything else. I walk out and look down the hallway and see one of the stalls open. I start walking when I hear her voice. “You look so good today." She talks to the horse, and I have to say she is a natural. She knows how to touch them, how to speak to them, and how to get them to trust her. There aren’t many people who can do that so easily. "Now you have a lesson in twenty minutes,” she says, brushing the horse. “And I just know that you are going to be the best one out there."
In the past week, I’ve seen her come alive when she talks to these horses. I’ve seen her guard lower just so they can trust her. “Hey,” I say softly so as not to scare her or the horse.
She looks up, and unlike the first day when she came in wearing white jeans and running shoes, she wears blue jeans that sit low on her hips with a blue tank top. Her face has gotten so much color, and her hair is getting lighter from spending all the time out in the sun. "Hey," she says. “I did those three." She looks at me. “And I have to go back and talk to Hope."
"Is she okay?" I ask, and she looks down and then up again.
"I think I hurt her feelings when I just put her food in and left,” she says. “Usually, I talk to her and brush her while she eats."
I want to tell her that she probably didn’t notice, but I can see how much this bothers her. "Well," I say to her. “This is for you,” I say, holding out the white envelope.
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