Chapter 45
Heavy – Linkin Park ft. Kiiara
Gunner
In the Uber on the way back to the ranch, I held Cassidy’s hand trying to convey my regret without words. Words would be used when we were alone. Her head lolled against my shoulder as she slept for the greatest part of the journey, only stirring once we pulled up in front of the house.
“Sweetheart.” I gave her a gentle shrug. “We’re home.”
Stirring, she yawned and rubbed her eyes. “The ranch?”
“Yeah, the ranch.” Despite what I’d said at the hospital, I didn’t want to be far from her. “Let’s get inside.”
The three of us stepped out into the cool early morning.
It was still dark with a faint hint of the moon through the clouds, and the smell of smoke lingering on the breeze.
My whole body shivered as I trained my eyes on the house, not wanting to glance in the direction of my beloved stables.
I didn’t want to see any of the devastation or think about Ariel’s body being there, alone in the dark, charred remains of what should have been her safe place.
A familiar whicker caught my attention, and I gasped, thinking for a moment it was her.
I heard it again, daring me to look in the direction of the temporary paddock, I realized who it was.
Dream Maker stood at the fence, ears pricked forward, watching us.
The rescued racehorse who’d once been so skittish, so mistrusting of humans, pawed at the ground as if impatient for my attention.
I took a step toward him but at the last moment lost my nerve and stood, still as a statue, watching him.
His head went up and he called out to me, as if telling me that he understood my reluctance, but everything would be okay.
Something in his gentle acceptance broke through the numbness.
This was why I did this, not just for the ghosts of horses past, but for the ones who still needed me.
Dream Maker held the promise that not everything was lost.
Nash slapped a hand on my back, clearing his throat. “Come on, let’s get inside.”
We hadn’t even reached the bottom step of the porch before the door was pulled open and Lily came barreling out and threw herself at my brother.
They didn’t speak but she just clung on, her arms and legs tight around him as he brushed a hand down her long, blonde hair.
It felt wrong watching their private moment of relief and love, so I guided Cassidy past them and up into the house.
The light was on in the lounge, so I walked us there knowing that I needed to thank Calvin for the help of his men and for Ella for supporting Lily in the long wait.
The warmth from the fire and the glow of the lamp was comforting after the sterile harshness of the hospital.
Instantly the noise in my head quietened, if only a little.
Home.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Ella gasped, rushing forward. “We were so worried about you both.” Giving her a one-armed hug, I kept a tight hold of Cassidy who I could feel flagging at my side.
“Calvin, thank you, for the offer of your men.”
The older man shook his head. “It’s the least I can do.” He cleared his throat. “I arranged for Markus Gruber to get his excavator over here to dig the grave.”
We were ranch men, we worked long hours in hard conditions, were used to losing animals, accustomed to having to euthanize or rehome our horses when they retired, but the look in Calvin’s eyes was something I’d never seen before. It was sympathy and sorrow.
“If you tell me where you want her to be buried, I’ll personally see to it first thing.”
Glancing at the clock on the mantel, I shook my head. “You’ve done enough, Cal. Thank you, but I’ll do it. It’s four a.m., you guys should get some sleep for a few hours.”
“We’re staying over and I’m going to help you whenever you’re ready.” There was no trucking with him that was clear, so I nodded.
“You look out on your feet, honey,” Ella said, cupping Cassidy’s cheek. “You both do. Why don’t you go up? Give me the bag of clothes and drop what you’re wearing outside the door. I'll get them laundered for you.”
Bed did sound good, if only so I could be alone with Cassidy and hold her, because I wasn’t sure I would sleep. There were too many images flashing around my brain.
“You okay with that, sweetheart?” I asked the tiny brunette at my side.
“Yes, I think I could sleep for a little while. We need to help with the cleanup, though.”
“You don’t.” No way was she getting out of my bed until she’d had a good eight hours of sleep. “There are plenty of people to help out.”
There was that determined jut of her chin again, and I managed a small smile despite the darkness surrounding me.
“Okay, but first you need some sleep. We both do.”
Those eyes, the color of Macallan, told me that she knew it was unlikely that either of us would rest easy, but she nodded anyway.
A noise in the hallway took our attention and as we turned Nash walked in with Lily still clinging to him like a baby monkey.
“Oh Nash,” Ella whispered, propelling herself toward him and wrapped him and her daughter in an embrace.
“Hey, Ella. Thanks for coming over.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else but with my baby and my grandbabies.”
“Is Peggy okay?” Nash asked, shifting Lily further up his big body. “Being left at the house alone?”
“She’s fine. I called her to tell her you were on your way home. I’ll go home and get her later today; she wants to cook for you all. Her famous meatloaf.”
“Sounds good to me.” He rubbed his hand up and down Lily’s back. “I’m going to get Lila to bed, you sorted for somewhere to sleep?”
“They’re in the guest room,” Lily said, lifting her head from his shoulder. “There’s towels in there too, Mom.”
“Don’t worry honey,” Ella replied. “We can take care of ourselves. You all get up to bed and we’ll wait for Wilder.”
“He’s not back yet?” I somehow expected him to be asleep upstairs, but I should have known he’d be waiting for us if he was home.
“Where is he?” Nash moved to put Lily down, but she wasn’t going to let him go and clung on tighter.
“He’s fine,” Calvin informed us, holding up a hand. “He came back here about a half hour ago, but Mikey was a little concerned about Songbird and Gypsy being in amongst all the other horses, so he had a quick slug of coffee and went back out there.”
Instantly my blood ran cold. Gypsy was the first of my breeding program and I didn’t want to lose another horse I cared about.
“I need to get down there and see—”
“Gunner, buddy, it’s fine.” Cal placed his hand on my chest. “She was just getting nervous about her foal around the other horses. Mikey said she was starting to stamp so wanted Wilder’s agreement to move her.”
“Where are they moving her to?”
“The winter barn is empty,” Nash suggested.
“That’s what Wilder said. He went down there to fence an area off for them while Mikey and Benny got them from the paddock.”
My shoulders slumped and my legs began to tremble as the weight of more sorrow lost its focus.
“I think you need to rest,” Cassidy said, tugging on my hand.
Exhaling, I nodded because she was right, I needed to at least try.
Once the door of my room clicked shut, Cassidy and I both let our steadfast resolve disappear.
We simultaneously sighed and collapsed onto the bed; our fingers still entwined.
Our bodies were exhausted and our emotions wrung out.
The bedside light caught the dark smudges beneath Cassidy’s eyes, etched deeper than I’d ever seen them.
Her hair, usually so soft and shining, was dull with ash and smoke.
There was a streak of soot still marking her jawline despite the hours we’d spent at the hospital and the tears that she’d evidently shed.
She’d been through hell for me tonight, standing strong when I needed her, and only now did I see the toll it had taken.
Yet there was no complaint, no martyrdom in her exhaustion, just the quiet determination that had become as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.
“I’m sorry I was a dick to you at the hospital.” As my eyes searched her face, my fingers traced the outline of her brows and then down the center of her cute, upturned nose. “You didn’t deserve it.”
“No, I didn’t, but I understand why you said what you said. You’re grieving, you’ve lost an important part of your life and in the most horrific circumstances.”
My throat was dry and constricted as the ball of mixed emotions lodged itself there.
“She didn’t get to live her best life.” My bottom lip trembled as I thought about the beautiful mare lying with a tarpaulin over her in the charred debris of the stables.
Memories pierced through of me riding her across our land, letting her have her head as she raced us to the edge of the horizon.
Of me rubbing ointment into her legs when she started to get arthritis, of buying her the best apples and the biggest carrots and even sugar cubes for a treat.
She’d been my constant since I was eight years old.
“She did live her best life, baby,” Cassidy replied, her tone soothing as her eyelids fluttered with sleep. “You made sure of that.”
“I feel like I failed her. I should have saved her.”
Instantly Cassidy’s eyes flashed open. “No, you couldn’t. You would have been killed, too. Nash said it was too late before you even got in there.”
Thinking back, my brother was right, she was already trapped by the time I tried to open her stable door. The wall was already alight, the beam was already set to fall.
“I always stabled her at that end because it got less wind if the doors were open. There was less noise for her and that’s what got her killed. She was all I had left of my mom. Now they’re both just…ashes and ghosts in my memories.”
When Cassidy’s fingers swiped at my cheeks, I realized that it was tears she was wiping away. Tears of pain, grief and exhaustion.
“It was a terrible accident. You can’t have known. All you can do is remember that she knew she was loved, always.”
“A couple of days after Mom died,” I started, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I went out to the paddock at dawn. Just me and Ariel.” My fingers twisted in Cassidy’s hair as I took a deep breath.
“I’d talk to her—not Ariel, Mom—tell her about my day, about Nash being a closed-up ass, about Wild trying to make stupid jokes one minute and then being too quiet the next.
” I swallowed, fixing my eyes on Cassidy’s whisky-colored pools, thinking how expressive they were.
“I never cried, though. Figured someone had to stay strong, even if I didn’t feel it.
Pretty stupid really. Being strong isn’t about breaking, it’s about how you put yourself back together.
” My breath was whisked from my lungs, as Cassidy held my face in her hands.
Soft and gentle. “And now Ariel’s gone, that’s what I have to do.
Think about the good she brought to my life and move on as best I can. ”
Cassidy was right, that beautiful horse had known love, every single day since she was four years old and Mom had brought her to the ranch.
Whenever she saw me, she would nicker and flick her tail around, it even looked like she was smiling at me at times.
We loved each other. She was my support animal of sorts.
“It sounds like she was incredible and got you through so much.”
I nodded. “More than I realized. The hardest of days.”
My throat tightened as I remembered the day after Mom’s funeral, the day I did I let the strength ebb away and allow the grief to take over.
Ariel had nickered softly when I appeared, pushing her velvety muzzle against my tear-stained cheek as if she understood.
I’d buried my face in her mane and sobbed until I had nothing left, her steady heartbeat against my palm the only thing keeping me anchored.
She’d stood perfectly still, not flinching once, like she knew exactly what I needed. Just like Mom would have done.
“I’m going to rebuild in brick,” I told Cassidy, because that was what I needed. To focus. To put myself and the stables back together. “I thought I was doing the right thing, keeping it traditional, but look what happened.”
“Again, a tragic accident, but I agree it’s an opportunity for you to do something new and forward thinking. Tie it into the camp maybe?” She sounded unsure, like maybe she shouldn’t be mentioning it.
“We will,” I told her, steadfast in my promise. “We’ll build something great that people will talk about, will want to emulate, will be desperate for their horses to be trained at.”
“Good.” Cassidy gave me a sleepy smile and pursed her lips. “Kiss and then sleep.”
I gave her what she wanted because it was getting that I couldn’t deny her anything any longer. She was too defiant to let me anyways.
Unbelievably, once we got under the covers, I did sleep. For four whole hours I slept a heavy, dreamless sleep with my girl in my arms the whole time.