Never Left You (Hartwell Hills #2)

1. One

One

Abi

Five years ago

“Daddy!” Stetson screamed from my arms, his own tiny ones reaching out as Sylas passed us.

My husband, completely ignoring me, kissed our three-year-old son’s forehead before lifting him off my hip.

“You ready to ride a bull, Stet?” Sylas’s Spanish accent flowed off his lips, making me want to kiss him every single time, except this time the words that he said pulled me back to reality.

“Hell no, Mr. Acosta.” I snatched our son back before he could step into the arena with him.

“Oh, come on Mi Reina.” He squinted his eyes, giving me a small pout as I situated Stetson back on my hip. I shook my head at the nickname. Of course, he would choose My Queen during a moment when he wanted to put our son’s life at risk. I never minded it when he changed his nicknames up, but whenever the words Mi Alma floated through the air, I melted. My Soul.

I was Sylas’s soul.

This man was my everything. From the moment I first saw him, I knew I loved him. Granted, it took him years to figure out he felt the same, and if I’d never made a move, I bet we’d still be circling each other. The age gap scared him at first. Not me. I was the fourteen-year-old daughter of a ranch owner, in love with the twenty-one-year-old ranch hand, and once I hit eighteen, I boldly asked him out on a date. Seven years later, we’re married with the cutest little boy in the entire world, and the age gap didn’t make a single difference.

His deep brown eyes widened as he held my gaze. “Abi, I’ll hold him. He’ll be fine.” He waved his hand before holding his palms open for Stetson.

I shook my head, twisting my hips away from him before my son got taken to his death. “He’s too young. Maybe when he’s older, but not at three years old.”

“I was six.” My older brother, Rhett, called across the arena.

I looked over my husband’s shoulder to shoot Rhett a ‘don’t you dare’ glare. Catching the heat, he quickly turned his back to us.

“I get it’s only practice, but no, Sy…”

“Bien, bien.” Sylas shook his head. “Next time Stet.” Sylas leaned over and gave me a sweet kiss. “Always the logical one, Mi Reina.”

I hummed against his lips. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t kill our son.”

Sylas let out a loud laugh. “We’ll get him on the back of a sheep first.”

“Well,” I groaned, turning to my son. Stetson looked just like his father. Brown hair which I know is ruffled even though it’s hidden under his small cowboy hat. His dark eyes shined as he watched his father step into the arena. His forever tan skin was a contrast to my pale complexion, and I loved the fact that every time I looked at him, I saw my husband. “A sheep is better than a bull, I guess.”

I looked back at Sylas as he pulled on his gloves.

My Soul. Mi Alma.

“Make sure he’s mad, Wyatt!” Sylas yelled over to my twin, who was currently getting the bull in the chute. Rhett had run across the arena, over the chutes where Sylas would mount the bull to ride for eight seconds. “You wrangling, Lach?” Sylas waved to my cousin on the other side of the arena. Lachlan stood still, his hands in his pockets as he gave Sylas a curt nod.

“Daddy.” Stetson moved in my arms, his long body flailing as he attempted to move to the gate. I let him lean his feet on the metal and use me as a backrest. I was just tall enough that his little cowboy hat didn’t bother me, “Mommy, the bull.” He pointed.

“Yup, we’re leaving soon though, remember? We’re going with Daddy to the rodeo.” I squeezed him closer to me, feeling his little body against mine, and I kissed his temple. “So many rodeos.”

“The rodeo!!” he shouted, lifting his arms in the air.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, “but first he needs to practice.”

From my cousin Lachlan leading the board last year in bareback before his unexpected retirement, to Rhett taking tie down by storm, the Hartwells lived and breathed the rodeo. Even Wyatt, who hated riding bulls almost as much as he loathed being on a bucking horse, found his place being an announcer. It was only natural that once Sylas joined the family, he joined the rodeo world too. Only he chose the most dangerous event; he was a bull rider. It was a wild sport, the one people flocked to the rodeo for. Watching Sylas for five years was what made me a fan of it, but my heart still lurched every time that chute opened.

Now, my little family of three was taking the summer to travel to rodeo after rodeo, watching the love of my life climb the boards and make it to the NFR this year. I couldn’t wait to follow him everywhere and to experience it with him. Simply to see him in his element, see him truly shine.

“How many practice runs has he put in?”

The Southern drawl of my husband’s best friend came up behind me, and I turned to see Cash Callahan. His tall figure appeared next to me on the gate, lifting his left leg up on the railing, leaning in to rest on his elbows before he met my gaze. He donned a white hat, standing out against his tawny skin, which was a change from the normal black hat I was used to seeing him in. The white fit him better lately anyway, as if to add some light to his world I knew was turning dark. I enjoyed Cash’s company, and the fact that he still would randomly pop in gave me a sense of comfort. Even if his ‘other half’ didn’t want him here anymore, he still came.

I gave him a smile before turning back to my husband as he lowered himself on the bull and began positioning his hands.

“This is the first one,” I replied. Taking a deep breath, I looked over at Cash, whose eyes were now zeroed in on Sylas. “I didn’t think you would be here today.”

Cash shrugged his shoulder and shifted his gaze to me. “Carolyn—” I rolled my eyes at the mention of his wife “—is waiting out in the car. I told her I just needed to come see Sy before we left. I won’t be here long.”

“Ah so we’re a pit stop?” I lifted my chin, turning to give him a teasing smile.

The last time they were here together ended in a huge fight, Carolyn screaming at Cash across the room until he finally broke and left the house. That was months ago, and now we were lucky just to see him for a few minutes. Cash was trying to mend something that was—in my opinion—beyond repair. But that didn’t matter, he was still going to try.

Cash side eyed me, taking the tease. “Well, when you say it like that…”

“I’m only kidding,” I used my shoulder to bump into him, his body swaying as he turned to give me a sideways smirk.

My attention flew back to the dirt once I heard the chute clang open, followed by a whoop from Rhett and Wyatt. My focus went straight to Sylas as his hand waved in the air and the bull bucked. These were always the longest eight seconds of my life. Even in our own arena, my heart lodged in my throat. I would count the seconds as the bull bucked and kicked, always moving slower in my head than in real time. One, two, three. I wasn’t like this when any other cowboy got on a bull. Only for Sylas. Four, five, six. I bit the inside of my lip. While my husband loved this sport, there was constant fear in the back of my head every time he rode, giving me a love-hate relationship with bull riding. It was a thrill to watch Sylas in his element. I’d always support him as much as I could. Seven…eight…

I breathed.

Stetson cheered as he watched, and as soon as that buzzer went off, Sylas flew from the bull’s back, making it look easier than it really was. He raised his arms in the air, and his feet began bouncing in his victory. It was then I realized my husband wasn’t wearing any protective gear.

And then, time sped up.

And everything happened so fast.

Lachlan was screaming, running towards Sylas. Rhett jumped the gate from the chute and followed Wyatt as they rushed towards the bull—the now furious bull—as it began charging Sylas.

“He better get out of the way,” Cash grunted.

“Sy…” I muttered, my heart thumping so loud I couldn’t even hear my own words.

“Sy!” Lachlan yelled, waving his arms. “Move your ass!”

Sylas turned to look at Lachlan, eyes widening at the sight of Rhett and Wyatt—and then the bull smashed his head straight into him. He was in the air in a matter of seconds, falling flat on his back after being hit from behind by the bull’s horns. I jumped, leaving Stetson there at the gate as I made my way towards the arena. I didn’t even notice Cash grab Stetson’s back to keep him steady; my focus was entirely on Sylas. Wyatt got to the gate first, holding me back as Rhett and Lachlan tried to gain the bull’s attention. But that bull—it only had eyes for Sylas as it ran at him again.

“Sylas!!” I screamed as the bull’s horns flipped him in the air again.

“Cash!” Rhett’s voice rang in the back of my head, “Call 911!”

Lachlan managed to get the bull from dirt, but then everything was a blur. The silence in the arena was more deafening than the shouts coming from my brother and cousin. Wyatt’s arm around my waist tightened as I tried to focus. Rhett moved faster than I’d ever seen, and I could finally hear Stetson’s screams. But my eyes were solely on Sylas, lying in the dirt, completely motionless.

Wyatt’s arm fell from my body.

I had never moved so fast in my entire life.

Blood seeped from his brown hair, his arm was crushed, and his shoulder was dislocated, bent in an unnatural way. I could even feel pain radiating through my bones. I moved my hand down his chest, noticing his white shirt was turning a deep shade of red as blood soaked through. I was too scared to take the shirt off—terrified of what I would see there.

“Sy…” I whimpered, running my hands through his hair, my flesh turning red and sticky from his blood that was now smearing over my fingers. I grimaced, my entire body shaking as I pulled him into my lap. Swallowing the tears I knew were coming, I tried to speak. “Why the hell didn’t you wear your gear?”

He blinked. Once. Twice, before his eyes fluttered closed. “Mi Alma…”

“Ambulance is on the way.” Cash called out, his yelling nothing more than a faint whisper.

“Mi Corazon.” Sylas met my gaze as he spoke, “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Looking down at my husband, I knew he wasn’t. But he wasn’t saying he was ok. He was saying, ‘you’re okay.’ He meant me. In this moment, no matter how much pain he was feeling, his mind was still focused on me. Tears began to fall on my cheeks as my hands cradled his face, his breaths slowing as he searched my eyes with his. There was too much blood. The color drained from his cheeks, the dirt that covered his cheeks sanding out even against his skin. His chest hitched as he struggled to take deep breaths as he lifted his arm to my neck, and yet…he still managed to give me a soft smile.

“You’re okay,” he repeated softly. “Mi Alma…”

My Soul.

Present Day

I jumped awake, my forehead covered in sweat as I pulled myself from the memory. This nightmare has haunted me at least twice a month for the past five years. Revisiting the day Sylas died over and over again. An endless cycle that, no matter how hard I try to push it down, continues to surface. I can still hear the screams from Lachlan and Rhett, still feel Wyatt’s arms around me as he held me back…his sticky blood on my hands. Strong hands pulling me away from Sylas as paramedics arrived…

Letting out a loud groan, I slap my arms down on my blanket.

Pull yourself together. You got this. It was just a dream…

I’ve got this.

It was still dark outside, my window closed to keep the winter air out. But the sweat clinging to my brow told me I wouldn’t mind the cool air. I climbed from my bed more aggressively than necessary, flinging the blankets back with a whoosh as I took the three steps to the window. As soon as it was open, I stuck my head into the night.

It was snowing.

I sighed and dropped my chin to my chest.

Of course it was snowing.

Unlike my racing mind, the world remained quiet. Not even the wind had anything to say.

According to my phone, it was barely past three in the morning. I had two options. I could climb back under my blanket for an hour and a half before my day was really supposed to start, or…I begin it early.

A quick glance at my bed gave me the answer I needed. The nightmare still sat there, Sylas’s side of the bed empty as always.

“Well,” I said to no one, “looks like I’m up.”

I walked past Stetson’s room, a calm expression across his pouty lips as he remained peacefully asleep. After another moment, I snuck away to shower quickly. Pulling my long blonde hair in a loose braid, my mind began to move with the list of things that needed to get done today and how an extra hour would be useful. I made my to-do list. Anything to keep my mind off that damn memory of a nightmare.

Hartwell Hills was slower in the winter and with it being the end of February, we still had plenty of time before things began to ramp up. Today would mainly consist of preparing meals for the ranch hands who stayed for the season, helping Lachlan fix a few doors in the arena and care for the horses. Get Stetson off to school, make lunch, double check the livestock had enough feed for the day and then, of course…the books.

I needed to look at those red numbers today.

That would take my mind off the nightmare for sure.

One nightmare to another.

Switching the kitchen light on, I took in the silence that came from the spotless kitchen. I smiled, knowing who had created the calm. Kyla. Having Rhett’s new wife around has been a blessing. She had been a huge help in the kitchen, always making sure it’s spotless before she drags my brother off to their cabin. She would walk across the threshold in a few hours, my brother right on her heels. Then the noise would begin. I had two, maybe even three, hours before the house woke up.

I should just really enjoy the silence while I could.

And for me—there was only one way to spend my quiet time. In one place I found peace on the ranch. The stables.

With him.

Sylas.

I brewed a pot of coffee, filling a mug to the brim, slipped on my boots and coat, then I headed out to the stables.

The mare could sense I was coming, she always did. Passing the family horses, saying a quick good morning to each one, I finally made it to her stall. Her brown head poked out of her pen, her black bangs sweeping over her eyes as they followed me. Her head bobbed the closer I got, and the minute my hand touched her nose, she stilled.

“Hey Luna,” I whispered to her, brushing her bangs off to the side. “How are you, girl? You warm enough?” I peer behind her, grateful to see Lachlan remembered to put her blanket on her back. “Yeah, you are.” I reached up and scratched behind her ear. “Wanna go on a quick walk with me? Watch the sun come up before it gets loud in the house?”

As if she understood what I said, she nodded her head. Chuckling, I unlocked her pen and let her step out and together—no lead needed—Sylas’ mare and I headed out to the pasture.