Chapter Nineteen
Nora
Firebrook Valley
Sunny was a show-off, and he knew it. His ears flicked back toward Palila, his hooves moving in that impossibly fast, glass-smooth Fino gait Harper had nurtured.
It was a gait that some were born with and some were not—tight, rapid, precise.
His feet struck the ground in a blur, barely translating into forward motion. But it was stunning to watch.
He was performing for her, the same way he did for Harper.
A small smile tugged at my mouth. Harper said I’d single-handedly almost trained show-ring potential right out of Sunny.
With me, he’d tasted unbridled freedom and therefore saw structure as work.
He was tolerating Palila and was always good for Harper, but he only tossed his mane and revealed the fire within him with me.
Untouchable and I had a different relationship.
Her every step was deliberate. Measured.
Careful. She didn’t offer more than what I asked for, but she never gave less.
Harper told me my mother hadn’t wanted him to work with her.
And after my mother’s death, my father couldn’t handle seeing her being worked, so she hadn’t been.
I’d expected a few wild rides from her, but that hadn’t been the case. At least, not with me. Both Palila and Emma had tried her out, and thankfully Harper had been there both times. She wanted nothing to do with either of them.
Untouchable was a fitting name.
I adjusted my seat slightly, testing her responsiveness, and she responded with quiet precision. Did she know who I was? Was our connection a byproduct of her missing my mother, or because riding Pasos was as natural to me as walking?
“She looks so peaceful,” Palila called, riding Sunny closer to us. “Ask her why she hates me.”
I glanced over. “She doesn’t.” I gave Untouchable’s neck a gentle pat. “She’s just gotten used to being ridden by one person. And bonding with that person. Change isn’t easy.”
Palila looked on with sympathy, then smiled. “Well, at least Sunny likes me, even though I can’t seem to get him to shift above first gear. Remind me to never rob a bank and then try to escape on this horse. It would take us an hour to get out of the parking lot.”
That made me laugh. “Harper is better at giving riding lessons than I am. We’ll have to set you up with some. I’d offer you one of our other horses to ride, but I hate to leave Sunny behind.”
As if he understood me, Sunny tossed his head and snorted.
Palila and I rode side by side in silence for a while, the rhythm of hooves against grass steady and grounding. But I could feel Palila’s gaze on me, sharper than the summer sun.
“Brady came to see me,” she said finally.
I stilled. “Did he?”
“Yeah.” She glanced over. “He said he found you in the barn yesterday.”
My grip tightened slightly on the reins.
“He said you were a wreck, Nora. And that you tried to tell him it was because you were tired.”
I swallowed, the memory hitting harder than I expected. I’d thought I was alone. Sixty seconds. A quick cry where no one would see or hear. That’s all I’d wanted.
And of course Brady had chosen that moment to check in on me.
“I’m okay,” I said quietly.
“You don’t have to be.”
“It’s been weeks.”
“Ah. Evan.”
“I knew the risk when I went to New York. He had no idea I was coming. I drank in college. I’m not anti-alcohol. So, sure, he was sloppy drunk. It happens.”
“That’s all true.”
“I’m sorry. I know we went over this when I got home. I’m sure you don’t want to hear all about it again.”
“Nora, if it helps, I can pretend I have amnesia every day. It’s good for you to let it out.”
I gave her a grateful smile, then said, “That’s what I told myself in the barn, but look how that worked out. I might as well put a sign on our front lawn announcing I’m falling apart.”
“No need. We can all see that.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly.
She shrugged. “You went to New York, shot your shot, and got turned down. Considering how long you’ve had feelings for Evan, no one is surprised you’re still hurting.”
I briefly closed my eyes at the idea of everyone in Firebrook Valley discussing how I’d made a fool of myself over someone who .
. . “It’s not even that he doesn’t have feelings for me that hurts the most. It’s that he thought that I could date Brady and still want to be with him.
How low of an opinion does he have of me? ”
“He’s an idiot,” Palila said flatly.
I nodded. “Did Brady say anything else?”
“Just that he’s been worried about you ever since you came back from seeing Evan.”
I exhaled slowly, gently stopping Untouchable beneath a cluster of oaks. Sunny drifted closer immediately, ears flicking, as if he could feel the shift before I fully did.
“I don’t like that,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
Palila’s attention sharpened.
“I don’t want to come between them,” I added.
She looked out over the field. “They’re both grown men. They’ll figure this out.”
“I was already crying when Brady found me, and I didn’t have the words to explain to him that Evan isn’t responsible for how lost I feel sometimes. Or that, even though the tears might make it look otherwise, I’m actually doing better than I was when I first came home.”
She let out a slow breath. “Because you’re finally letting yourself grieve.”
I huffed a humorless laugh. “Yes.”
“And?”
“And it hurts, but not the way pretending it didn’t did. If that makes sense.”
Sunny nudged my leg, insistent, grounding. I reached up automatically, my fingers finding his mane.
“Enough about me,” I said after a moment. “Tell me about you.”
Palila didn’t respond right away. “What am I doing with my life?” she asked.
“Talk to me.”
“I’m one class short of finishing my online degree in sustainable agriculture with a focus on tropical ecosystems. Kai jokes that he’ll wake up one day and hear that I’ve moved to Hawaii.
Sure, my degree would be useful there, but I like it here.
For me, it was fascinating to learn the difference between modern land management and traditional systems—like the old Hawaiian ahupua’a.
Mountain-to-sea divisions followed natural stream boundaries.
Everything was connected: the uplands, the cultivated middle lands, the coastal areas.
It wasn’t only about taking what you needed—it was about making sure the whole system stayed balanced for everyone downstream.
Shared responsibility. Kānāwai. Rules that were really about survival and not depleting what the land and water could give.
” She paused, her gaze drifting toward the distant river that wound through the valley.
“Everything we do to the land is a ripple we set into motion that subtly or drastically changes everything around it.”
There was no avoiding who the largest sources of ripples in this area were. “I also wonder if this area would have fared better if my family had never come here.”
Palila frowned. “That’s not what I meant. In fact, I want to look into how transforming what had become mostly abandoned properties into landscaped fields with water diverted from its natural path has affected the valley.”
“But?”
“What if I find it wasn’t good for the land?”
I cocked my head to the side in question.
She continued, “I love your family and respect the Hollistons. I’d never intentionally do anything that brought trouble to either of their doors.”
Oh. I understand.
Before answering, I needed to take a moment to imagine all the possible outcomes, both good and bad. Palila might discover my family was damaging the land. If that happened, my father wouldn’t be happy, but he could certainly afford to remedy the situation. It might even do him good to have to.
And if the news was good?
Well, that’d be a much-needed gift.
“Do your research, Palila. The truth, even when it’s uncomfortable, is better than not knowing.”
She searched my face. “You’re sure?”
Feeling stronger than I had in a long time, I nodded.
“Absolutely. If anyone in town was doing something that adversely affected the lives of others, the town would put a stop to it. The Burkes and Hollistons are not above that rule. The only thing I ask is that if you discover a problem, give them a chance to fix it rather than reporting it.”
Palila looked offended. “What happens in this valley stays in this valley. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be pissed at me if I went head-to-head with your father. I know he’s already dealing with enough.”
I chuckled. “What did you say about Brady and Evan? They’re grown men? So is my father. If he can’t handle being held accountable for his own actions, he’s not the man I was raised to think he is.”
And if he disappoints me?
He wouldn’t be the first man to.