Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-four
Zara
I was at the barn before sunrise, saddling up my horse. I hadn’t slept for even a second, but I wasn’t tired. Determination had lit a fuse in me, pushing me forward.
I would find Cormac.
He would be okay.
Our arms would be wrapped around each other before the day was over.
And that was that. I wouldn’t accept any other outcome.
I’d let him go too easily once and had regretted it with every breath since. Cormac and I were finished with regrets. We’d decided on happy.
The others might not have been thrilled when they woke to find I’d left without them, but it had been physically impossible for me to wait another minute.
I knew these trails and this land. If anyone could handle riding out there with very little light, it was me.
The sky was still bruised purple, the horizon just beginning to pale.
The ranch was starting to show signs of life, but not quickly enough.
Soon, they’d be out searching again, teams of determined men and women working their hardest to find Cormac, but every minute he was out there all alone was a slice to my heart.
The ground was uneven in the half-light, shadows stretching long and deceptive. Every rock looked like a hole. Every bush like something crouched and waiting. We went slow and steady. The last thing I needed was for either of us to get injured. We had a mission to complete.
“I’m coming, Maccie,” I whispered. “I’ll see you soon.”
The north trail rose gradually, curving toward the ridge. As the minutes passed, the sky softened from indigo to gray to streaks of pale gold. The sun edged up behind the hills, taking its time, completely indifferent to the panic clawing at my ribs.
The smoke in the distance was thinner now, lazily drifting upward, its shape dissipating as it reached the sky. Whatever had been burning must’ve been running out of fuel like Tom had predicted.
At least that was one less thing to be concerned about. I hoped Cormac could see it too and was comforted knowing the fire wasn’t spreading toward the ranch.
The trail stretched ahead, mile after mile of scrub and rock and open land. I scanned the ground, the clusters of trees, every ridge and hill. There was no sign of him. He couldn’t have disappeared. He was out here somewhere. I just had to keep looking.
I crested one rise, then another. My horse’s breathing deepened beneath me, her ears flicking as if she sensed my urgency.
Or maybe my horse had heard something I hadn’t. In the next moment, I caught movement to the right, and my heart leaped into my throat.
A chestnut coat caught in the early morning light.
“Dusty,” I breathed.
She was grazing, and she was alone. I whipped my head back and forth, and it quickly became clear Cormac wasn’t nearby.
I swung down before my horse fully stopped, my boots hitting the dirt hard. “Dusty,” I called softly, trying not to spook her.
She lifted her head, ears twitching, and let out a soft nicker. She barely paid me any attention as I approached and looked her over. There was no blood, no sign of injury. The saddle was still on, though one stirrup hung twisted, the leather scuffed, and her reins trailed loose.
My hands shook as I ran them over her neck, her shoulders. “Where is he?” I whispered, pressing my forehead to her warm coat.
What could have happened? Dusty was one of our calmest mares. I couldn’t picture her reacting in a way that would cause Cormac to get thrown, but the twisted stirrup was a sign something had gone wrong.
I mounted again, leading Dusty alongside me, scanning every inch of earth, braced to find him after every turn, disappointed when there was nothing but empty, brutal land.
Eventually, we reached a fork in the trail. One path continued up along the ridge, and the other dipped toward the river.
Which would Cormac take looking for me? Would he think I’d go to higher ground or follow the river?
As soon as I asked the question, I had the answer.
“To the river and back,” I whispered.
That was where he’d go. Where he knew I’d find him. We always found each other there. The words were part of our skin.
If he’d been hurt or disoriented in the dark, he’d head somewhere familiar. Somewhere that meant home. Where he’d be certain I’d go.
I turned the horses toward the river path.
The descent was steep and narrow. My heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my fingertips gripping the reins.
The land was more verdant close to the water. A few trees dangled their leaves over the shimmering river. Rough, haphazard bushes clung to boulders, and small patches of cheatgrass broke through the unforgiving dirt.
Blood roared in my ears as I reached even ground.
“Cormac?” I rasped.
It wasn’t loud enough. It barely felt real. Like if I didn’t shout hard enough, the world might decide he wasn’t here.
I swallowed, dragged in air that tasted like river and ash and fear, and screamed.
“Cormac!”
His name split open the morning, ricocheting off the trees and rolling down the water. I waited there, shaking, listening, heart pounding so violently I thought I might pass out before I ever found him.
Please. Please. Please.
Then, just as I’d pulled in another breath to yell his name again, I saw it. Movement beneath the shadows of the trees. And I knew.
My breath left me in a broken sob.
We tore toward the riverbank, and I didn’t wait for my horse to stop. I hit the ground hard, stumbled, caught myself, and ran.
“Cormac.”
He was slumped against the trunk of a tree, one leg bent awkwardly, the other stretched out in front of him. His hair was damp and matted to his forehead. Dirt streaked his cheeks. A thin line of dried blood tracked from his temple toward his ear.
He looked wrecked.
He looked alive.
“Zara,” he croaked, his eyes darting wildly over me. “You’re okay.”
My knees gave out as I reached him, and his arms closed around me, drawing me into his chest. He smelled like sweat and his shampoo. Like sunshine and the love of my life. I couldn’t stop breathing him in.
“You were lost,” I cried against his shirt. “We didn’t know where you were.”
“I’m here, sweetheart. I’m right here.” His voice was thin and thready, like speaking was an effort.
I clutched fistfuls of his shirt, needing to feel his solid heat. My hands slid up to his face, over his jaw, into his hair, down his shoulders. I needed to catalog him. Needed to know he was whole. Needed proof.
“You’re real,” I whispered, half to myself. “You’re real.”
He gave a faint huff of a laugh that ended in a wince. “Pretty sure.”
I pulled back enough to see him clearly. His eyes were unfocused, a little glassy. “Are you hurt?”
“Yeah.” His brow crinkled as he shifted. “I fell when Dusty got spooked and bolted. Think I messed up my knee. Definitely can’t put weight on it.”
I shook my head, tears spilling freely. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you sooner. They wouldn’t let me out here when it was dark—”
“I knew you were gonna come.” He swiped my tears with his thumb. “Knew you’d find me, sweetheart. I just had to hang out for a while and wait.”
My chest very nearly caved in.
“You’re always waiting for me.” My head fell on his shoulder, and my heart finally began to calm. “You came to the river.”
“This is our spot. If I was going to sit somewhere hurting, I figured it might as well be here.”
A sob-laugh tore out of me. “To the river and back.”
“Yeah.” His eyelids drooped. “And look…you made it. Just like I knew you would.”
“Baby…” I kissed his temple, cheek, jaw. “Let me take care of you, okay?”
His head fell back against the trunk, and he looked at me like I was the best thing he’d ever seen. “All right. Do what you need to, as long as you don’t leave me.”
“Oh no, Cormac. You don’t have to worry about that. I won’t leave you.”
Not ever again.