Chapter 44 Monsoon
monsoon
ROXANNE
The next night, I’m sitting at my computer, watching the cursor blink, listening to La Bohème with my headphones while the storm rages on outside. Jameson is lying at my feet only moving when the thunder rolls over us.
And yet, I feel like my insides are bubbling over like a rush of champagne in a glass. I can’t wait for Duke to come home tonight.
I allow myself to smile at the thought. I’ve finally admitted it to myself, but I’m still not sure if I can say it to Duke.
I shake my head. I need to focus. My eyes turn back to the screen and I reread what I have for my pitch.
Honestly, it’s a mess. It’s flat and lifeless.
Maybe this is why Goose still couldn’t make it around the paddock with me.
Allie has produced an incredible documentary, and Leo captured the life of the ranch beautifully, and now it’s all on me to find the words to do this place justice.
I drag the headphones off and toss them onto the desk. Outside, rain pelts the windows hard enough to sound like gravel. When I check my phone again, my heart sinks when there are no new messages from Duke.
There’s a knock at the library door and Leo peeks his head in. Allie has been at Topper’s all night and when she texted, I told her to stay.
“Hey, I’m going to call it a night,” Leo says through a yawn. “How are you doing?”
I rub my eyes. “Still can’t get this right.”
He checks his watch. “You’ve been at this for a while, maybe give your brain a rest?”
“Yeah, sitting here staring holes into the screen isn’t doing me any favors. I’ll give it a few more tries and then come up.”
Leo glances up at the ceiling as another wave of thunder rolls over us. He knows that while I’ve done better with the occasional afternoon storm, these big ones still shake me. “Just knock on my door if you can’t sleep.”
“Thank you.”
“You’ve got this.” He gives me a thumbs up. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”
“I’ll try,” I say.
He disappears down the hallway, and a minute later I hear the steps creak lightly as he heads upstairs.
I crack my knuckles, put my headphones on, and set my fingers on the keyboard.
A while later, I stretch my feet and look down, but Jameson isn’t there.
He was curled up there for over an hour, snoring like a lawnmower, and now he’s gone.
I glance toward the hallway. Maybe he wandered upstairs. He does that sometimes when he’s had enough of me muttering at my laptop.
I knock on Leo’s door and find him still awake, propped against the headboard with his laptop balanced on his knees.
“Is Jameson with you?” I ask, already scanning the corners of the room.
Leo frowns and sets his computer aside. “No—why?”
“He was just at my feet. He’s gone.”
He swings his legs off the bed. “All right, let’s not panic yet. Maybe he went downstairs.”
We rush through the hallway together, calling for Jameson as thunder rattles the windows. When we reach the great room, the wind hits us hard. The front door stands wide open, rain sweeping across the threshold.
No.
I forgot to lock it!
I rush to the porch, but Leo’s strong arms stop me. “Stay here. I’ll check the porch and the drive.”
“I can help—”
“No,” he says releasing me. He slips on his shoes and grabs the heavy flashlight that hangs on the hook by the door. “If he comes back, he’ll come to your voice. Keep calling him.”
Before I can argue, he disappears into the rain, the beam of his flashlight bobbing into the darkness.
My pulse hammers as I step onto the porch anyway. “Jameson!”
The wind has eased, but the sky keeps splitting open in violent flashes, the air holding its breath between each rumble. That eerie stillness needles the back of my neck—too much like the night I was struck down. My chest cinches tight. But I can’t stop myself, I have to find him.
I step into the yard. My tank top and pajama shorts are already damp, clinging to my skin. The air is thick, electric, humming with ozone and wet grass. Panic floods through me as I scan the shadows and jog around the porch steps, half expecting his squat little body to be curled up behind a chair.
Movement jolts in the corner of my vision
Not Jameson, but Goose, out in the storm, trembling under the shade structure.
“What the hell?” I say to no one.
The sky splits open. Thunder cracks like a cannon, and rain pours in sheets. I don’t think—I just run.
Mud sucks at my feet, my hair whips into my face, pajamas cling to my skin—but Goose is out there alone, and I won’t leave him scared in this storm. Lightning flashes. I stop and cover my ears as thunder crashes a heartbeat later.
It’s close.
So close.
My adrenaline spikes as I rush to the gate and struggle to get it open as the rain is making it hard to see.
The crashes in the sky.
The white light.
The smell of scorched air.
Everything happening around me takes me back to that night. Waking up with my mouth full of blood. My lungs seize for a second, my heart pounds, and my legs want to fold.
Goose lets out a low, anxious whinny and it pulls me back to the present. I force my feet to move, even though the wind wants to shove me backward. I blink against the rain and wipe my face.
Goose backs away as I reach for him, nostrils flaring, muscles twitching.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, holding out my hands. “I’ve got you. Let’s get you back to the barn.”
He decides to follow me, but he’s jittery and tense. The barn feels like it’s a mile away. A white blaze rips across the sky, thunder answering a heartbeat later. I flinch but keep going—because fear isn’t driving me anymore.
I’ve had enough.
Tonight, I decide I’m not that scared woman anymore, I’m a woman trying to coax a horse through the mud, in a lightning storm back to the barn.
Against all odds, Goose starts to walk with me. There’s no resistance or hesitation. He bobs his head and walks with me because he trusts me, and for once, I’m not holding anything back. I only want to get him to safety.
We’re twenty feet from the barn when headlights sweep across the paddock, cutting through the darkness like a searchlight.
I freeze when I hear a truck door slam.
Rusty’s voice cuts through the storm. “Roxanne? What the hell are you doing out here?”
He jogs toward us in the rain.
“I—I had to get Goose—he was out—”
“You’re barefoot in a lightning storm!” he growls. “Are you out of your mind?”
“I need to find Jameson!” I shout back.
“He’s in the damn house!”
Rusty throws his heavy Carhartt coat over my shoulders.
Goose stomps and tosses his head again, but Rusty takes over.
I don’t even try to argue as I’m soaked, shaking, and for the first time since I left the house, really starting to feel it.
He leads Goose the rest of the way to the barn, glancing over his shoulder at me every few steps.
Rusty slams the barn door shut behind us. The air smells of wet hay and fear. Goose’s stall gate hangs open, and a few others do too, but the horses only shift nervously, hooves clattering against the planks.
“Damn new ranch hand’s been half-assing night checks again.” Rusty shakes his head as he flips on the lights. “Goose’s latch must have been loose. I’ve told him twice, you gotta double-check everything, but that’s on me. Should’ve done a final walkthrough myself.”
He gets Goose settled in his stall, then grabs a towel from a hook near the feed room.
“Start drying him off,” he says, handing me the towel. “I’ll grab a blanket,” he adds, disappearing into the tack room. He’s back in seconds, swinging a fleece over Goose’s back. “There. That’ll help.”
“How did you find me?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath.
“I went to the office. Left some paperwork in there I needed. Figured I’d sneak in, not wake anyone. Leo was already outside waving me down.”
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt out. “I … I didn’t lock the door. It must have flown open, and I panicked. I swear I looked everywhere for Jameson, and I thought he was gone. I ran out and then I saw Goose out. I still need to find Jame—”
Rusty puts his hand up. “Okay, okay, slow down. Leo found that little bulldog hiding behind the couch.”
I groan. “Seriously?”
He grabs another towel, starts drying off Goose’s neck. “Leo said you were looking for the dog, but I told him to stay behind. I saw the damn paddock gate swinging open and well, here you are.”
I lean my forehead against Goose’s damp shoulder, water still dripping off the ends of my hair.
“I’m sorry—”
“Please don’t, Roxanne. Thank you for helping Goose. Even if that was a shit-crazy thing you did. Horse is good now. Let’s get you back to the house.”
Rusty shields me from the rain with some extra towels as we sprint to the truck and then to the house.
“Jameson!”
The bulldog snorts as I kneel to hug him when we walk in the door. Leo is now up and comes in from the great room.
“Are you okay?” Leo asks, hugging me.
I nod, feeling the sensation of tears pressing against the back of my eyes. Seeing that Jameson is okay and knowing Goose and the other horses are safe in their stalls gets me a little choked up.
“Has anyone heard from Duke?” I ask, my worry now shifting to him.
Leo and Rusty both shake their heads.
“He’s probably stuck at the airport,” Rusty offers.
“Roxanne, why don’t you take a hot shower,” Leo says. “You must be freezing.”
I try to protest, but then my teeth start chattering. “Thank you.” I wrap my arms around Rusty.
He closes his warm, fatherly arms around me and presses his chin to the top of my head. “Crazy lady. You could’ve been hurt out there, but that was a noble thing you did. Goose won’t forget it.”
He releases me and I wipe a tear away with the back of my hand because there’s only one person I want to talk to now.
Only one person I want to tell about Goose, about the storm, and about the fact that I wasn’t afraid this time.
I hand Rusty his coat back and head upstairs to change, shower, and wait up all night if I have to until Duke comes home.