Chapter 17
MOLLY
Heart pounding, I step closer, ready to face whatever I’ve just walked into. But I freeze as my son’s sweet laughter cuts through the dusty air.
“Her mouth tickles.” He giggles again.
“That’s because she doesn’t want to hurt you,” Chase replies, his voice low and easy. “She just wants those carrots in your hand.”
“Why didn’t Daddy keep riding?” Luke asks.
There’s a pause, then Chase says, “That’s a question I don’t know the answer to.
Your dad and I grew up trail riding. Your nana kept an old horse here, not good for much but slow rides into the hills.
Your dad could have been good at bull riding, roping, barrel racing…
anything he put his mind to. He had a way with animals, like you do, but they didn’t give him the adrenaline rush he was looking for. ”
I inch forward and pause at the edge of one of the wide doors. Luke is looking up at Chase like the guy hangs the moon and stars. I know the feeling.
“I was with him,” Chase says softly, “the first time he went over a class five rapid. Do you know about class fives?”
Luke nods. “They’re the most dangerous.”
“Yep. We were young and stupid, and your dad had made friends with this guy who worked on one of the ski mountains but guided rafting trips in the summer out of Buena Vista. He invited us to go with him, and since your grandma was out of town, Teddy borrowed her car. Neither of us even had a license.” Chase chuckles, but there’s no humor in it.
“We drove down early in the season, after a heavy snow year, so the runoff was wild. We had no business being on that river, and it scared me in a different way than a bull does. But your dad? He was hooked.”
“He fell out of the boat the day he died,” Luke whispers. “On a class five.” His voice drops. “He was out there because of me.”
I feel my lungs lock up, like someone’s cinched them tight.
I want to burst in and scream that it wasn’t Luke’s fault.
Teddy made his own reckless decision. We’d been fighting about whether to force Luke into another miserable season of rec league soccer.
A sport he hated and wasn’t any good at, but Teddy wouldn’t let it go.
He was determined to make our son into something he wasn’t.
Still, I don’t move. My knees won’t let me.
“Your dad and I were a lot alike,” Chase says. “Not very good at dealing with our feelings. We found other ways to clear our heads. But your dad wasn’t thinking straight that day he took the raft out in those conditions. That’s not on you.”
My breath catches. I haven’t talked to the kids in detail about Teddy’s accident. I didn’t think they were ready. I didn’t think I was ready. I never imagined Luke might be carrying a weight he was never meant to hold.
“You don’t know.” Luke says the words like an accusation.
“Your dad knew better than to be on that river at that level. He also knew he need to be wearing a life vest and helmet, but he wasn’t that day. Those were his choices, not yours.”
Luke sniffs, and it feels like my heart is shattering into a million pieces. “But if I was more like Laurel or liked soccer…”
Tears stream down my cheeks. I swipe them away, blinking hard because I can’t let him see me like this. Then I hear Chase’s steady voice again. It feels like a lifeline, and not just for my son.
“You’re doing fine just the way you are, Luke. You’re a good kid with a big heart. Heck, even Princess likes you, and she doesn’t like anyone but me.”
That earns a smile. “She scratched Laurel the other day,” Luke says, then shifts his weight like he’s guilty of something. “We went into the trailer when you were gone, but we didn’t mess up anything. We just wanted to pet the cat.”
“You’re welcome to visit Princess anytime.” Chase doesn’t sound mad, and my already gooey heart melts a little more. “She’s got a soft spot for you.” There’s a pause before he adds, “For the record, there are a lot of things you can do in life besides soccer.”
“I hate soccer,” Luke blurts. “What’s the point of playing a game with a ball if you can’t touch it with your hands?”
“I’m with you on that one,” Chase agrees, and they both laugh.
“Hey there, kiddo,” I say gently as I step inside the barn. “Your sister’s working hard on her homework. You got yours done?”
He turns, squinting at me in the afternoon light spilling into the barn. “Mommy, when are you gonna let me ride Fancy?”
I blink. “I didn’t know you wanted to ride Fancy. I thought that was your sister’s thing.”
He shrugs. “I could try.”
“I thought you were scared.” The words come out before I can stop them, and I instantly regret it.
He glances at Chase, then back at me. “I’m kind of scared. But I still want to try.”
My chest tightens as the bravery of my seven-year-old son levels me.
Chase steps in smoothly. “When your mom says it’s okay, you and your sister can start lessons.”
Luke’s face lights up, a soft, hopeful glow I don’t often see in his gaze. It’s enough to make my heart catch.
“Riding lessons?” Luke repeats, putting extra emphasis on the last word. “The boys in class asked if I was taking lessons from you.”
Chase winks. “I’m not the one you’ve got to convince, kid.”
My son spins and bolts toward me.
“Please, Mommy. I’ll do all my homework and help you in the greenhouse without complaining. And clean my room.”
“You already keep your room clean,” I remind him.
“I’ll keep it cleaner.”
I tip his chin up, and his big eyes lock on mine. “If Chase is willing, riding lessons sound like a great idea.”
“Thank you, thank you.” He throws his arms around me, my crutches clattering to the ground as he hugs me tight. “I gotta tell Laurel.”
He pulls back, his eyes shining, then glances toward Chase. “I’ll clean the stalls, too.”
Chase smiles. “That’s a solid offer. A lot of cowboys started out mucking stalls.”
“Cowboy,” Luke whispers, like it’s the most magical word in the world. “I’m gonna be a cowboy.”
And just like that, he takes off, footsteps echoing as he disappears out of the barn.
“I think seven’s a little early to lock in a career path,” I say as I bend to retrieve the crutches.
“Don’t worry,” he tells me. “He’ll grow out of it.” He’s absentmindedly stroking Fancy’s neck, the horse leaning into his touch like she was made for it. How pathetic am I that a little part of me is jealous of a horse?
“Do you want riding lessons?” he asks, his voice low and full of suggestion.
I laugh. “I don’t think that came out the way you wanted it to.”
He grins. “It came out exactly the way I meant.”
“Really? Because you’re blushing.”
“I am not.” He takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair. “Cowboys don’t blush.”
“The tips of your ears are pink.”
“They’re sunburned. From all my hard work in the field.” He holds up a hand. “I even got a new callus today.”
“Impressive,” I murmur. “Thank you, Chase, for everything.” When I’m close enough, I take his hand and press a kiss to his palm. “Even the riding lessons,” I add with a wink.
He groans. “Just to be clear, that was beginner level. We’ve got a lot more ground to cover if you want to make it to advanced lessons.”
I do, more than I’m willing to admit. Fancy snorts and shifts like she’s not thrilled with me getting so close to her man. Honestly? I don’t blame her.
“Want to give her a treat?” Chase gestures to a bag of carrots sitting on a hay bale nearby.
“Are you joking? You know she has teeth, right?”
He considers that, lips twitching. “Most animals do. Maybe all animals. I’d have to look that one up, but she’s not going to bite you.”
“She looks like she wants to bite me, knock me flat, then stomp me for getting too close to you.”
“Fancy’s not the jealous type.” He scratches behind the horse’s ears. “Except for that one buckle bunny up in Cody a couple of summers ago. But those days are long gone.”
And stupid, sentimental me wants to believe that.
“Come on,” he urges. “Give her a carrot. If Luke can be brave, his mom can, too. Kid needs a role model, right?”
The words hit harder than they should. I try not to let it show, but Chase sees right through me.
He gently cups my face in his rough hands. “It was a joke, Molly. You’re a damn good role model.”
I shake my head. “I haven’t been. But I’m trying.”
“The twins are lucky to have you.”
I rest my hands over his and broach the subject that’s been on my mind. “Do you want to talk about what happened with your mom today?”
“Not even a little,” he says.
I feel the tension coil through him, but I can’t help pushing a bit. I hate how he looked earlier, all that hurt simmering just under the surface.
“She didn’t know it was you.”
Chase exhales sharply and scrubs a hand down his face.
“It just about killed me that she thought I was the man who hurt her.”
“That was the disease talking,” I say gently. “Not your mom. I know you’d never hurt her. And somewhere deep down, she knows, too.”
“He’s still alive.” His jaw tightens, and he takes a half step back. Like he’s trying to put distance between himself and the memory. “He lives here in Skylark. He was at the rodeo when I got hurt, but only came to the hospital one time. Mainly to give me shit for getting hurt.”
“He’s a jerk,” I say, moving closer to Fancy’s stall.
“You don’t know him.”
“No. But I know you.”
The way he looks at me, I can feel how much that means. Or maybe it’s just how much I want it to mean.
“I know your horse loves you,” I say with a soft smile.
That earns a real laugh, and God, it’s good to hear it.
“Give me a carrot,” I say, propping my crutches against the stall. “And if she bites me, I’m biting you.”
He laughs again. “That sounds like a promise.”
“Hardly,” I mutter, but a shiver runs up my spine.
He takes a carrot from the bag, breaks it in two, then gently places the pieces in my hand.
I stretch my palm out, but as Fancy leans in, I flinch and yank back. The carrot drops to the dirt.
“Easy there,” Chase says, his voice warm and calming.
He could be talking to the horse or me. Either way, the words seem to settle us both.
“Let’s try again.” He bends down, dusts off the carrots, and returns them to my hand.
“You could just give them to her, you know.”
“Oh no,” he says, grinning. But this time, he wraps his hand around mine and guides it forward.
Fancy’s breath is warm on my skin. Her teeth graze my palm—more tickle than bite—and I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
When I lean back and settle against Chase’s chest, his solid weight grounds me in the moment.
“I did it,” I whisper.
“One more. On your own.”
He places another carrot in my hand, but doesn’t move. He just lowers his arm, as if he trusts me now.
“You can pet her, too,” he says. “Talk to her. She likes it.”
I glance at the horse. “I don’t know if you’ll like me talking to you as much as you like Chase talking to you. I get that.”
Fancy snuffles, then gently takes the carrot from me.
“Good girl,” I murmur. “Thanks for not biting me. And thanks for being sweet to my kids. I don’t want them to be afraid of life the way I’ve been. Maybe that starts with not being afraid of a really nice horse.”
She finishes chewing, then turns away like we’re done here. Chase is watching me with an expression so tender, it makes my heart ache.
“You didn’t even flinch,” he says softly.
“I kind of wanted to.”
He moves closer, and the world narrows to just the two of us. His gaze drops to my mouth, and my breath catches.
I want to lean in, but step back instead.
As much as I want this, I can still hear Luke’s voice in my head, see the hurt in his eyes, and feel the weight of all the things we’re still figuring out.
“I should check on the kids.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
Chase doesn’t move. He gives me a small nod like he understands.
“You know where to find me,” he says.
I tuck the crutches under my arms and start toward the door, the scent of hay and cedar and something strangely hopeful trailing behind me.
I don’t have to look back to know he’s watching me go.