Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Anna
I pulled onto the main drive at the ranch where my brother lived and worked, my window down even though it was only forty-five degrees out, the heater cranked on high to compensate.
I’d hoped the fresh air would make it easier to breathe, easier to think, but mostly it just made me cold.
Twenty-four hours since I’d left Kemp’s, and I still had no idea what to do.
When I’d arrived at the inn last night, I’d told Ava the short version of what was going on so she’d know why I was checking into one of the rooms. She’d been supportive and concerned, but she’d respected my desire to not talk much about it.
Talking wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t solve the problem, which was that I loved Kemp with all my heart and hated watching him self-destruct. This was what I’d concluded after a mostly sleepless night of overthinking our relationship and what had happened yesterday.
Once my workday today had ended, I’d headed down the hall to my room. As lovely as the inn was, the thought of sitting alone in that room all evening had me crawling out of my skin. And yet heading back home to Kemp wasn’t an option. Nothing had changed.
Something had to change.
I couldn’t change his mind about what he was doing—God knows I’d tried multiple times, multiple ways—so either I had to find a way to make peace with his decisions and work around them, or I had to find a way to live without him.
That thought gutted me.
I parked near the barn where Ryder said he’d meet me. The sun had set recently, and I didn’t see anyone out and about. Belatedly it occurred to me it was likely dinnertime, and I might’ve interrupted my brother’s meal.
Sitting there alone, I took in the silence and the peace. I breathed deeply, longing to embed that peace in my soul. With my heart cracked open, that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.
Feeling heavy and hopeless, I climbed out of the car and got my riding boots and gloves out of the trunk, where they’d been since my last ride a couple of months ago.
Once I’d changed into my boots, I pulled the hood of my windbreaker up and tied it. I had three layers on, not the ideal riding clothes, but I hadn’t packed much when I’d left Kemp’s.
“Hey,” Ryder said as he came out of the barn with Cricket, the horse I usually rode, following.
“Hi. Thanks for getting her ready.” I walked toward the horse. Her ears pointed forward, and she watched me with interest. “Hey, Cricket. You’re looking pretty tonight. You ready for some exercise?” I held my hand out. She nudged it with her nose as if greeting me and saying, Let’s go.
Ryder’s eyes were on me instead of the horse. “I’m going with you.”
As if on cue, his horse, a wily but loyal mustang he called Bat, short for Batshit, as in crazy, walked out of the barn toward us. He’d decided on the name when he wouldn’t let him get near her. After months of working together, he’d learned to trust my brother, but the name still fit.
I nodded and said hello to his horse, keeping a respectful distance. Bat was spirited and opinionated. Ryder was the only one who could ride him. The bond between them was unparalleled and a testament to my brother’s horse-whisperer abilities.
“I’m glad,” I said. “I’m not sure how I’ll do on the trail in the dark.”
“Cricket would do fine, but I’m not about to watch my sister wander off into the woods alone at night.”
I could take offense at the remark, but this was one of my brother’s ways of showing he cared. And honestly, while I was a good rider and had ridden alone countless times in the daylight, I was glad for the company tonight.
We mounted and headed off down one of the paths that crossed a large meadow before taking us into the forest.
“You okay with trotting a bit to warm them up?” Ryder asked, his horse ahead of mine.
“Sure, if they can handle that in the dark.”
“Moon is bright enough, and these two know the path.”
I nodded and signaled Cricket to break into a slow trot behind Bat. I relaxed into her, loosened my hold on the reins, trusting her as she fell into a rhythm over the flat stretch. Gradually my body loosened and adjusted to the beat of her hooves on the solid ground.
The thud of the horses’ hooves and the subtle jingle and creak of the tack were the only sounds.
The noise in my head calmed, and I lost myself in the reassuring feel of the animal beneath me, the breeze on my face, the earthy aroma of what had been an almost springish day.
I welcomed the break from my troubling thoughts.
This was the temporary escape I’d been craving when I’d texted Ryder.
When we reached the edge of the woods, the horses slowed as directed.
The well-worn path widened, and Bat allowed Cricket to walk side by side.
The four of us moved through the trees peacefully, the moonlight penetrating through branches here and there at first until the darkness deepened.
I was glad to have Ryder with me. He was an expert with horses and riding and anything we might encounter.
We were maybe twenty minutes into the ride when he spoke.
“You going to tell me what’s bugging you?” he asked.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I said honestly. I hadn’t come out here to talk. If talking was the goal, Ryder wouldn’t be the person I’d choose to confide in. I would’ve wound up at Olivia’s or Maeve’s or another girlfriend’s place.
Another minute or two passed in silence, and I figured my brother was probably relieved I’d refused. He’d asked. I’d said no. His imaginary obligation was fulfilled. Instead, he pressed me.
“What did Kemp do?” Ryder asked.
“Who said Kemp did anything?”
He didn’t reply. My brother wasn’t a talker. That was part of the allure of a nighttime ride with him. When he eyed me from the side, as if waiting me out, I realized he wasn’t going to let it rest.
“He didn’t do anything,” I told him. “Not something specific. It’s just hard to see him killing himself to get promoted.”
“He still thinks he’s going to do both jobs?”
“Yep. He’s miserable just from jumping through all the hoops to get promoted.”
“It’s not going to get any easier.”
“That’s what I’ve pointed out,” I said. “Maybe he could pull it off before Oliver came along. Maybe. But now with a baby on top of everything?”
“He’s being an idiot.”
His statement made me feel validated for a flash, but that immediately rolled back into hopelessness.
“I lost my patience yesterday and got a room at the inn,” I said.
Ryder swiveled his head to scrutinize me, as if just now grasping how desperate I was.
I told him about yesterday: Kemp’s exam that he thought he’d passed, his silence afterward, his thunderous mood when what I’d expected was relief and maybe a touch of celebration. “I’ve tried to embrace his decisions and be supportive, but even I can see our relationship is completely lopsided.”
“That won’t work for the long haul,” he said.
I shook my head. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You could dump his dumb ass.”
My heart fractured at the thought. “I love him. I’ve loved him forever, Ryder. Like, since we were kids.”
He nodded once as if he already knew that. I didn’t usually give my brother credit for noticing things, but that was my bad. He was insightful, the kind of person who observed and registered more than anyone realized, in part because he rarely commented.
“So…lopsided. You mean like you’re doing all the housework and taking care of his kid?” my brother asked.
Though that was accurate, that wasn’t the problem. “Sort of, and I’m okay with doing extra to support him. What finally got to me was watching what he’s doing to himself. He’s making himself miserable.”
“And living with someone who’s miserable is a bitch,” he said with conviction. We’d both experienced it before with our mother, back when we were teenagers, before we could move out and put some space between us and her.
“It is, but even more than that, it’s heartbreaking.”
A minute or two passed with neither of us speaking, the only sounds the hooves and a horse chuff here and there.
“Kemp’s not going to change his mind?” Ryder asked. “You’re certain about that?”
I nodded. Whether my brother saw my response or not, he continued.
“What do you want, Anna?”
“I want a happy, healthy partner. I’m just not sure that’s possible with everything he’s involved in.”
“Seems like you have a couple of options,” he said as we went up a slight incline.
Curious, I waited for him to say more, my skepticism spreading like a haze between us.
“One, you can keep on keeping on, with him being a stubborn idiot and overworking himself. Two, you can give him an ultimatum and plan to leave if he doesn’t change.”
“I’m not doing that,” I said without hesitation.
“Three, you can figure out ways to make your relationship closer to the one you want. It’s okay to give a little less for the sake of your own mental health.
What if you got extra help so you both have less to do?
Maybe it would take some pressure off in general.
Because, Anna, no offense, but you kinda look like hell. ”
I didn’t take offense, because I knew it was true. I’d barely slept last night. Barely slept the past week from worrying about Kemp.
“It’s just been a crazy week,” I told him. “More emergency calls than usual, including one from the brewery regarding a vat or a pump or something.”
“So when he has more emergencies, that leaves you with the kid?”
“I love Oliver.” My tone was defensive.
“Of course you do,” he said, “but that doesn’t make it okay that his kid is hijacking your life at the drop of a hat.”
“I don’t think of Oliver as just Kemp’s kid. I mean, technically he is, but I’m in a caregiver position, and living there, being involved with Kemp—”
“Puts you guys into a family setup.”
“That’s not a negative, Ryder. I know that might be hard for you to understand.”