Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
INDY
Time is funny.
Somehow the past few days have felt like they’ll never end, while also flying by at lightning speed, and I can’t seem to catch up.
I know the campers will be getting to visit the horses tomorrow, and I’ve had no time to get everything ready and set up for them.
So here I am, at ten at night with the big barn all lit up, grabbing all the things each horse will need.
Summer’s group will go first, which means I won’t be able to avoid her like I have been.
I feel guilty that this happened and I was on a date.
Why didn’t I even think to question Finn’s message?
This isn’t like me, I’m usually ten steps ahead of everyone, and have all the answers ready before the questions are even asked, and yet…
I could have Jare work with the campers and the horses, but that seems like a shitty thing to do, not to mention childish. We’re both adults, and whatever we do on our own time shouldn’t shadow what we do during work hours.
I shove those thoughts away and continue working on the task at hand. If I finish this now, I won’t have to wake up earlier than usual to get it done, though I’m worried I might not sleep at all with all the unknowns swirling in my mind.
There’s a tap on the wood at the entrance to the barn, pulling me out of my spiralling. When I turn to look, Summer’s in the doorway with one hand in her pocket, and the other clutching the book I saw the last time I was at her cabin.
“Hey, pretty girl,” she says as her lips twitch up in a smile.
“Hey,” I manage. I wish I knew what it is about her that makes me lose all reason and turn into someone I don’t know.
How is it, that every time she’s around, my eyes focus on her.
They spot her in the crowd and I pick out her laugh.
I’ve never felt like this before, even when I had serious girlfriends.
“How are you?” It’s obvious she’s holding something back, but I think that has more to do with the whole ‘no attachment’ rule.
“I’m great,” I tease, because anyone on this ranch can tell I’m not. “The police have no answers, and I’m hopin’–prayin’ really–that it’s all just some ridiculous misunderstandin’.”
She nods as her shoulders move up and down with a heavy breath. “Yeah, me too. Listen, I don’t want you to think I’m this crazed sex machine every time we see each other. I am capable of communication.”
I can’t help but laugh because that is not what I expected her to say, nor where I thought this conversation was going. “That’s kind of… random.”
“I figured me coming to find you in the barn late at night might give you the impression, all things considered.”
The only impression I’ve got is that she’s confident in her abilities under the covers, or really on a dock, or wall.
She lets out a long sigh and continues. “I don’t want you to think I’m only here right now because we’re fucking,” she adds, as if that wasn’t already clear.
I almost choke on my spit and have to catch my breath. I’m not a prude, but the way Summer just throws herself out in the world is jarring. I’ve grown up with parents who didn’t even want me to know they were having sex, for Pete’s sake.
“I don’t. I mean–I didn’t…” I’m getting flustered and I’m starting to think a good fucking might be nice right about now. “I didn’t think you were here for that, tonight at least.”
She smirks and walks toward me, “What are you thinking, Honey? You can talk to me, you know. Just because we said no attachments doesn’t mean I won’t listen.”
My heart beats a little faster, stomach fills up with bees, and I have to remind myself that there’s a very real man upstairs in the barn loft who can most likely hear every word we say.
“I’m thinking I’m scared that Finn might be dead, and it’s my fault because I didn’t report him missing.” It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud, and I stare at my boots for a long time before Summer reaches for my chin and lifts it so we’re looking at each other.
“You shouldn’t think like that,” she says, looking down into my eyes with a fierceness I’ve not seen before. “Even if he is, it wouldn’t be your fault. Do you understand me?”
I’m not sure how, but the conviction in her tone convinces me that maybe whatever’s happened to Finn doesn’t rest on my shoulders. When I nod, she releases my chin and takes a step back, causing the space between us to feel like a void that I want to close immediately.
“Will you show me what’s in those pages?” I ask, nodding to the black book she’s holding. I’ve noticed the gray shading on the side of her hand when I see her holding it, so I imagine that’s her sketchbook. Which means she’s been outside all afternoon and well into the night drawing.
“Maybe someday, Honey.” She smiles, backing up to the barn doors, “if you ask me nicely.”
She disappears around the door and I try not to feel any disappointment that she didn’t kiss me.
I know she said that’s not why she was here, but can’t a girl hope for kisses and conversation?
Glinda presses her nose into my back with a snort, and a laugh bubbles out of me. “Yeah, Glinda girly, I’ll be quieter.”
She’s a cremello, with blue eyes and pink skin.
When she came to us, she was in bad shape, but with our vet, Kota, and some rehab, she was working in no time.
Honestly, I think she’s been happier too.
Sometimes horses can be stubborn, but Glinda takes everything in stride, which is why she’s one of the best on the ranch.
Once I’ve got everything all put in neat arrangements ready for tomorrow, it’s late. I don’t want to bother the sleeping kids in cabins nearby with the buggy, so I grab a flashlight and start walking to my cabin.
I’ve never been scared of walking home in the dark, and I shouldn’t start now.
Still, once I get to the tree line it’s fairly dark with little to no moon shining through, so I flip the flashlight on and trudge on.
The only sounds of life are my feet crunching over fallen sticks, and prickly sticker-burs catching on my pants.
The hair on my arms stands on end, and I rub them down, fighting off the urge to run all the way to my cabin. Sucking in a deep breath to help calm my nerves, I keep looking around, just to make sure.
Once through the trees, with my sights set on my cabin, I sigh in relief and spot Twatla on my porch by the door. “I’m guessin’ you want in, huh?”
My question makes her stand, shaking her feathers out, she nods her neck as if she understood what I said. She probably did, sneaky goose.
There’s a pop, almost like a car door slamming shut, that makes me jump and Twatla honk loud enough it startles me again.
She flaps up into my arms and stays there, as if she’s scared of whatever made the noise.
There’s no cars around here other than my truck, and I’m silently hoping it’s nothing as I round the corner of the porch.
My truck light’s not on, and I don’t see anything past it, but I can’t ignore the swoop in my stomach that tells me something’s not right.
I know I heard something.
Shaking my head, I turn back to the door with Twatla in my arms and twist the handle. Flicking the light switch on, I shut the door behind me, and for the first time, I turn the lock.