11. Eleven
Eleven
Kyla
“Are you ever going to ride with me, Miss Kyla?” Stetson asked me as he led me towards the stables.
“Stetson, I don’t know how to ride a horse. I’ve only ever been on a horse once and your Uncle Rhett was in control. I would have to be tied to the saddle if I tried by myself so I don’t fall off.”
Stetson swung his arm back and forth, mine going with him. “Well.” The little boy squeezed my hand tighter, pulling at all the heartstrings. “I can teach you what I know. I don’t have to be tied to the horse. I’m a pretty good rider.” He looked so damn pleased with himself. Sooner or later, I’d have to get on a horse just to make him smile.
Looking down, I hid my face as I felt the blush rush to my cheeks. Rhett’s voice from last night ran through my ears, get Stetson to get you on a horse and sleep under the damn stars . “I like the sound of you teaching me how to ride a horse, but let’s stick with reading for now, okay,” I said, looking back down at Stetson.
“But Marshmallow is the perfect horse for you, Kyla!”
“Marshmallow?” I asked, letting go of his hand as he rushed towards the barn.
“I named him!” he called over his shoulder.
Moving into a jog, I caught up with Stetson, who was already opening up the stable door to let the white horse out. Abi came around the corner, carrying a few buckets while wearing the largest galoshes I had ever seen. Along with the galoshes, she had a blue flannel shirt open to reveal a white tank top underneath and a pair of jean shorts hugging her thighs. Mud was caked on the toes of the galoshes, and water sloshed out of the buckets as she set them on the ground in front of her son. She took a breath as she stood up, her cheeks puffed as she used her forearm to lift her hat and wipe her forehead.
“You are not riding today, mister.” Abi looked at her son sternly.
“Moooommm . . .” Stetson groaned.
“Your horse—” Abi dropped her chin and placed her hands on her hips, giving her the ultimate mom pose. Even I raised my eyebrows. “Is supposed to be white, not light brown. We are bathing Marsh today.”
Stetson sighed, but then reached for a bucket.
“No, get the hose first. You know what to do.” Pointing her finger, she watched as her son gave a groan. Stetson followed directions, gathering the hose to spray down his horse. “I swear.” Abi came up next to me. “He’s going to turn out just like Wyatt. ”
“Would that be a bad thing?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, tilting to look at her.
“Wyatt is . . . not how I want my kid to turn out. I’d rather he’d take after Rhett. Hell, Lach even, just not Wyatt. I love my brother, but he has made some interesting life decisions.” Abi raised her arm and wiped her forehead again.
Abi was the constant here at the ranch, but I couldn’t tell if she liked the work or not. She let me come and go as I pleased, but was always thankful if I took Stetson out of the house. Each night she would come to Rhett’s house with a beer in hand, pulling me onto the porch and into the wooden chairs that sat facing the stars. We would talk and quickly became good friends. We kept it light most of the time, mostly talking about her day at the ranch, my day with Stetson, and my plans moving forward, but heavier topics did come up. Even the topic of David had scratched the surface. She had let me know that Rhett told her the basic gist, that he was—and I quote, “Not worth our time or thought.”
Looking at her now I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to Stetson’s father. Abi was an amazing mother, showing constant love to her son and family, but she was, without doubt, lonely. Wyatt was training Stetson on riding, Lachlan would take him out on the field sometimes, Leo would play with him and teach him things about the ranch . . .there were so many amazing men in Stetson's life, but no one was there for Abi.
“May I ask”—I turned towards her, not knowing where this new confidence was coming from—“your last name isn’t Hartwell . . . is it? Where’s Stetson’s dad?” I said the last part softer than planned, hoping I didn’t strike a nerve .
She shook her head, dropping her gaze to the ground. “No, it’s Acosta. He . . .” Abi let out a long, sorrowful, breath. “He died.” Her expression didn’t show that of grief or mourning, it was just . . . blank. My heart broke thinking she had been blocking it out, and here I was throwing it out into the open.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
She gave a small hum and looked back to her son. “Thank you. He looks just like his dad with his dark hair, tan skin, and dark eyes. He’s got his spark too. That kid was on a horse before he was walking. All thanks to Sye.” A smile spread across her lips as she looked at her son. The love could be felt through the air, even though there was hurt behind it.
“Sye?”
“Sylas. That was his name.” Her smile faded as she watched Stetson take the hose and spray the horse’s feet, leading up to his belly.
“Sylas, Stetson. I love the ‘S’ theme.”
Abi gave a small chuckle. “I did too. We joked that all our kids were going to have names that start with S. Sye liked Simon or Stella for baby number two, but . . .” She paused, biting her lip, and shrugging her shoulders. “He died right when Stetson turned three.”
“Ho—” I stopped. I wanted to ask how he passed, but I didn’t want to bring up any old wounds. She knew very little about my past or what I had dealt with. It wasn’t my place to ask her to open up about her life.
“He was in an accident,” she answered anyway. “He was a bull rider. ”
I stayed silent, not exactly knowing how to react. Rhett hadn’t mentioned anyone in his family being a bull rider. I thought back to the first time we had watched the rodeo. Abi had pulled Stetson away right before the bull riders came out, claiming it was time for bed, and I had said goodnight, not thinking anything of it.
“He was getting ready to travel with Rhett and Wyatt, and they were training here. He got on that bull and Wyatt opened the chute. He lasted eight seconds and then jumped off, but the bull was mad . Trampled him as he was leaving the arena. He died in the hospital due to his injuries. They were just too much.” Abi turned to look at me, her eyes darkening as if she was reliving the moment. “We miss him every day, but he’s not gone gone , you know.” Turning towards Stetson, I could faintly see the light returning to her. “I see him in Stetson every day. I’m glad I have a small piece of him.”
She sniffed, the small smile on her lips fading as she rolled her eyes and tilted her head back, a heavy groan leaving her lips. Turning my attention from her to her son, I saw Stetson’s jeans covered in bubbles as he began to work the sponge on his horse’s stomach.
“It’s never a dull day with him,” she said smugly. “Hey, bud . . . wash Marsh, not you.”
Abi left my side, sticking her hand in a bucket to pull out another brush to help Stetson bathe his horse. Crossing my arms, I watched for a moment before turning my back and leaving the stables, giving Abi the needed time with her son. Reaching for my phone, I brought it to life.
Rhett
Have you gotten on a horse yet?
I laughed, something that always happened after getting a text from Rhett.
Me
It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since you told me to do that. So . . . no.
Rhett
Get. On. A. Horse.
Me
I’m hanging out while Stetson gives Marshmallow a bath. How’s Buckle?
Rhett
Buckle is one in a million. And she did a 7.8 today. Still ranking on top.
Me
I read it has to do with the rider and the horse. So, you BOTH pulled a 7.8. Close to that world record.
Rhett
Damn Straight, Baby. Call you tonight .
Baby . . .
Baby.
Baby?
That was a new nickname—one I didn’t mind. David had never, ever , called me “baby.” He stuck with “sweetheart” after he had done something to hurt me. But baby? He wouldn’t dare call me that. I held my phone, looking back at the stables where I could hear the laughter from Abi and Stetson, when I felt the slight buzz in my hand.
I blinked.
Grace
I saw David.
My heart dropped.
“You saw David?” I asked once I got back into Rhett’s house, my palm pressed against my forehead to calm the anxiety building, my phone barely touching my ear.
I hadn’t heard from—or seen—David since I left him back in December. He would cross my mind, but I was able to navigate my life. It would take a long time before he was a distant memory, but I was trying. Now, just the single mention that Grace had seen him brought back a wave of hurt and anger and I felt like I was going to spiral.
“At the store,” she answered. “I caught his eye and turned. The douchebag followed me out into the parking lot. ”
“He talked to you?”
She was silent for a beat, but then said, “He asked about you.”
“You didn’t . . .” I coughed, the ball forming in my throat forcing it to sound like gravel.
“No,” Grace added quickly. “No, Kyla, no. I told him I knew exactly where you were, and he would never see or hear from you again.”
“Grace, that’s . . . that’s worse.” I held my breath, “That’s just going to egg him on.”
I could feel the panic rising in my chest. I could feel the anxiety begin to boil under my skin, seeping out through all of my pores. I began to pace, the quick intake of air hitting my lungs with each short breath.
Breathe. Just Breathe.
We broke up.
I handed him the ring, told him I was done and that I was taking back my life. I didn’t leave in the middle of the night. I just took control of something . . . finally, and he just stood there and watched me leave, clutching onto my ring in his palm. He knew we were over, right? I didn’t leave Arizona until May. I had six months of successfully avoiding him. I was in the clear.
There was no need to panic.
None whatsoever.
So why couldn’t I get my heart to calm down?
“Ky,” Grace said softly. “There’s no way he can find you. You changed your phone number. You’re off the beaten path. You. Are. Safe. ”
I took a deep breath, feeling my mind go down a different path than I was before. “Safe until he decides I’m worth his time again,” I mumbled, flopping down on the couch. “I know I’m overthinking it. He doesn’t care enough to come find me but . . . Grace . . .”
“He won’t. He’ll have to torture me before I tell him anything.” She spoke fast, trying to make her voice as calm as possible. “You’re overthinking this because that’s what was trained into your brain. That’s what he made you believe . . . I shouldn’t have told you.”
“No, it’s fine. I mean, he’s in the world, I can’t stop that. I’m just ready to stop feeling this way.” Swallowing back the tears I knew were going to come, I closed my eyes and leaned my head on the back of the couch.
I tried to focus on the past few days—meeting Rhett at the bar, making love to him, seeing the ranch and meeting Abi. Helping Stetson with his reading. Family dinners. Watching the rodeos, watching Rhett.
I was completely at ease and relaxed here.
There was no way he was going to take this away from me.