19
T he two-way radio crackles at one a.m. “ Mayday, mayday, you fuckers. ” Ford’s snarl floats through the receiver. “ I’m in the barn if anyone wants to take a midnight stroll. ”
Worry curdles my gut and I slip out of bed. I find a flannel shirt Ford left behind and put it on, the hem grazing the apex of my thighs.
Dead of night, I race across the farm. There’s a light on in the barn and a dark shadow crossing the pasture at a slow lope. My heartbeat picks up.
With a deep breath, I step inside. The hay floor crunches under the soles of my slippers. “Ford?” I say softly. When there is no response, I keep searching. Finally, I find him in the last stall with the pregnant mare, Sassafras.
His head snaps up at my approach. “What’re you doing here?” The worried drawl of his voice sends shivers down my spine.
“You were on my channel,” I offer. “What’s happening?” I glance at the mare lying in a bed of hay in the stall.
He sits back on his haunches, sighs. “She’s foaling.” His hand tears through his hair. “Normally, we let them do their thing, but she’s having twins.” Frustration stains his voice.
“Is that bad?”
“It’s rare. Davis is trying to get a vet out here. But…typically, the second foal never makes it.”
My heart hitches. “Well, we can’t give up.”
Ford blows out a breath. “All we can do is wait. Let nature take its course.” He runs a broad hand down her nose. “I’m planning to stay. Sit with her.”
“I’ll stay, too. Keep you company,” I say. He looks more distressed than normal. I hate the look on his handsome face. More than anything, I just want to be here for him. And the mare.
“It might not be pretty, Birdie.”
I slip inside the stall, holding my bangles to keep them quiet. “That’s okay.”
“Then get warm.” He passes me a blanket. Watches as I cover my bare legs.
Sassafras flops over onto her side.
Ford strokes his hand down her rump, then we settle in opposite corners of the stall. I stare at his handsome face, trying hard not to let the fire burn me up inside. Maybe it’s reckless. I’ve never been in a true relationship. One I’ve chosen for myself. It was always for PR. For Gavin. For something. But the ache I have for Ford is different.
It’s also something that can never be. He is a temptation I can’t afford long-term. All we are is a train wreck going off the rails.
If I had better judgment, I’d leave. Stop sleeping with him. But the truth is, I need him.
Ever since the visit with Gavin, our conversation has been a heavy weight on my shoulders. Nothing has helped. Not swimming at night. Not ranch work. Not visiting with Ruby on her front porch. The black hole has grown. I was so hopeful here on Runaway Ranch. Hopeful it would all go away. But it hasn’t. I’m still Old Reese. Sad Reese.
The darkness presses down, hollow and stifling.
“You wanna tell me why you dislike horses, Birdie Girl?” Ford’s low drawl takes my attention.
I stare at my bangles, unable to look him in the eye. “They’re just a bad memory.”
“And you don’t like talkin’ about those?”
It’s the silence that pulls it out of me. That great gaping need to reach for a light in the dark.
I lift my head. “Have you ever you been sad, Ford?”
A crease forms between his eyebrows. “Sure.”
“Like really sad? Like a concrete body in water?”
He’s silent, but his gaze stays on mine to show me he’s listening
“You don’t have to tell me,” I say. “You don’t owe me anything.”
Ford looks to the mare, sitting motionless. Only that muscle jerking in his jaw tells me he’s thinking. After a long silence, he says, “When I played for the Renegades, I was dating a woman. Savannah. We were together for three damn years if you can believe it.”
I sit straighter and curl my legs to my chest. I always assumed Ford was a playboy, a new woman in his bed every night.
“I had this grand idea to propose on the field.” He snorts. “Bought a ring, asked her daddy, the whole damn thing. I got down on one knee and popped the question. In front of everyone.” He swallows. “She said no.”
I gasp. “Ford. Why?”
“She made it clear I wasn’t the one. Too country, too white trash, you pick one.”
My heart aches for him. The nerve of her to break his heart in front of everyone, then tell him he didn’t matter.
“Heartbreak makes you do fucked-up shit. I could sit here and tell you I wasn’t sad, but at the time, she ruined my fucking life.” Ford flinches. “It made me an angry person. I wrote the book on being as asshole. I made mistakes. Big ones. Fucked up in the worst way a man can.”
I wait for more, but he stops there.
His throat bobs. “That’s why I’m here. Because it hurt so goddamn bad, I had to run halfway across the world to escape it.”
Hand threading through his lionlike hair, he says, “I haven’t talked about her in a long time. I learned my heart was a whole lot happier when she stayed the hell away from it.”
He sighs. “But sometimes that’s just the way life plays. There’s no use in looking back.”
“I hate her for doing that to you.” I lean forward, wanting to take away his pain. “You’re not trash. You’re the best person I have ever known. And I haven’t known you for very long, but I already know this, so that’s saying a lot.”
He smiles, his eyes unreadable.
“Do you get sad, Reese?” Ford asks, voice pitched low. “Is that why you don’t talk about your past?”
Tears fill my eyes. “Yes,” I whisper.
My mind freezes on what to say. Here, in the protective quiet of the dark, I could tell him everything about my past. About Muirwood. But if he knew…he wouldn’t want me. Even if we are temporary, the rejection would still hurt.
Before I can say anything, the acrid smell of blood floods the stall. The mare lies on the hay, staring at her already-standing baby. But there’s one more on the ground. Unmoving.
I gasp, cover my mouth.
“Fuck,” Ford grits. He hovers over the horse and blasts an order into the two-way radio before whipping to me and holding out a hand to keep me back. “I don’t want you to see this, Birdie.”
But I can’t turn away. My chest swells. Heavy tears roll down my cheeks.
I hold my breath as Ford inspects the foal.
“Fuck. She ain’t gonna make it.” His shoulders drop.
“No,” I say. “We can’t give up.” Eyes flooding, I crawl across the floor to the foal and rest a palm on its slowly rising belly. I just sit there and stare at her, trying real hard not to cry. “You’ll know,” I whisper. “You’ll know when it’s time to go or stay, okay? So you just be brave and make your choice and we’ll still love you anyway.”
Ford makes a kind of strangled noise in his throat. “Reese…”
I don’t respond to Ford. All I do is remember—everything.
Putting on a paper dress and walking the halls of Muirwood. Saying everything but no. Gavin handing me a contract and telling me no one would ever find out.
Be brave, be brave, be brave.
My daddy singing me his songs, the Labrador that ran off, the food we didn’t have. My mama picking mold off bread so we could still eat it. That’s why I listened to Gavin. So I could be a star. So my past didn’t matter. So I could be someone inside of me I never knew existed.
We stay where we are until the foal’s chest stops rising. Until Ford takes my hand and helps me stand.
Ford touches my chin. But he doesn’t kiss me. A cloud of worry darkens his face as he stares down at me.
He wipes a tear from my cheek with a calloused thumb. “You’re trembling.”
“I’m okay.”
When we leave the barn, he doesn’t let me look back.