Chapter 43
BLAKE
Ididn’t realize how much I was carrying around on my shoulders until my talk with Martha yesterday. Somewhere between her advice, Levi’s confession the day before, and Santiago’s inability to stop making me laugh all last night at dinner, the tension in my shoulders had loosened.
It’s still there for the most part, but it’s relaxed.
Easier to bear.
For the first time since coming back to Evergreen Falls, I wasn’t waiting for the next bad thing to happen.
Although waking up this morning to the sound of hammers pounding nails into the studs of the barn could be considered a bad thing.
I’ll be honest.
It is a bad thing.
Santiago wants the barn completed as soon as superhumanly possible, which I understand. The barn is central to his livelihood, and he has other people depending on him.
But allowing the construction crew to start when the bunkhouse wakes up is inconvenient for the rest of us.
With a warm coffee in hand, the crisp morning air fills my lungs as I step out onto the back porch with Bear weaving between my legs as if he believes he’s a small cat.
Falling Sky is already bustling as the sounds of construction ring through the valley. Someone laughs boisterously near the corrals. Diesel engines rumble somewhere beyond the equipment shed.
The skeleton of the new barn stretches toward the velvet and amber-streaked sky. Every day, another wall goes up, another reminder disappears.
Maybe healing works the same way.
Strolling down toward the corrals, I pass by Todd, who is carrying a fence post over his shoulder.
He tips the brim of his hat in my direction. “Morning, Blake.”
“Morning.”
Brandon waves from the tractor.
Sam is halfway up a ladder, aiding in the construction. He balances a nail gun in one hand and somehow drinks coffee with the other.
That’s ranch life.
I cup my hand next to my mouth and shout, “Pretty sure OSHA would have a problem with that.”
Sam’s shoulders shake with laughter. “Good thing OSHA doesn’t live in Wyoming.”
Bear trots between wranglers and construction workers like a foreman making inspections. Every now and then, someone bends down to scratch behind his ears before getting back to work.
Javier stands on the edge of a corral, his forearms resting on the top of the pipe fence. He watches as Jack works with a young, speckled gelding.
Curious, I wander over beside him.
“Buenos días.” Good morning.
“Morning,” I return. “How’s your head?”
“Better.”
Jack doesn’t hold a lead rope, and there isn’t a saddle on the horse’s back or a bridle around his head.
It’s just the two of them inside the circular pen.
The gelding trots along the perimeter with his ears pinned halfway back, tossing his head every few strides. Jack will change direction arbitrarily with nothing more than a shift of his shoulders and a wave of one arm.
No yelling. No whip. No force.
Watching Jack and the horse, I tip my head to the side and ask Javier, “What’s Jack doing?”
Javier smiles. “Listening.”
I frown. “Looks more like the horse is avoiding him.”
Javier chortles. “For now.”
The gelding circles again, blowing hard through his nostrils. Then something changes. One ear swivels toward Jack.
Then the other.
The horse lowers his head and licks his lips before slowing from a trot to a walk.
Javier points at what just occurred. “See that?”
I nod slowly.
“He’s asking the horse a question.”
My nose wrinkles. “What’s the question?”
“Do you trust me enough to stop running?”
Jack turns his body slightly away from the gelding and drops the pressure completely. Instead of continuing around the pen, the gelding hesitates.
One uncertain step. Then another.
The horse walks toward Jack on his own. When he reaches Jack’s shoulder, Jack scratches the base of the horse’s neck like they’ve been friends for years.
“That’s it?” I question.
Javier nods. “You can’t force trust,” he says with a shrug. “You can only give someone a reason to choose you.”
Give someone a reason to choose you.
Those words echo in my head on a loop.
Javier angles toward me. “Speaking of horses that need a little extra attention…” He nods in Shadow’s direction. “Mind taking her for a walk?”
My head jerks back. “You want me to walk a horse?”
“She likes you.”
“She likes a lot of people,” I return without confidence because I don’t know that for sure.
“Not the way she likes you.”
My lips press into a thin line as I admit, “It’s because I feed her sugar cubes.”
Javier gives me a half smile. “Sugar cubes or not, she still likes you.”
I sigh through my nose. “Okay, I’ll do it, but if she runs away, it’s not my fault.”
“Noted,” Javier replies, like he doesn’t believe that’ll happen.
Javier gives me a rundown of what to do with Shadow, then fits her with a halter, attaches the lead rope, and hands me the end.
There’s no way I’m qualified for this, but here we are.
The south trail has a quality that makes it feel like I’m a princess walking through the woods, waiting for a charming prince to pop out of the trees and serenade me.
Maybe it’s the way the morning light trickles through the snow-covered evergreen branches, or maybe it’s the fresh pine scent complementing the sounds of running water from the nearby creek.
I even begin talking to Shadow and Bear like a fantasy princess would.
“ángel is a really good cook. I hope that means Santiago knows how to cook. My skills with a stove are limited to grilled cheese, scrambled eggs, and boxed mac n cheese.”
Shadow angles her head toward me and rolls her eyes.
“I’m a pro with the microwave, though,” I defend.
Shadow’s reply is to blow out a puff of air through her nose.
“Walker has pulled his head out of his ass.”
Shadow sneezes.
“Exactly.”
As we continue down the path, construction, horse neighs, and chatter fades, the trees effectively shutting everything out–or closing us in.
“I was thinking about–”
Shadow stops, becoming impossibly still. Bear halts with her, scanning the trees.
“What is it, girl?” I ask as I stroke my hand down her mane.
Shadow’s ears twist back and forth. I attempt to open my ears, seeing if I can hear what she hears.
Nothing.
The wind still sways the trees, and ravens still caw in the distance.
I shrug a shoulder and guide Shadow forward. Bear resumes the walk with us, practically prancing through the snow like a deer.
“I’ve come to the realization that I can’t go back to New York now. I’m in too deep with these men.”
Shadow snorts like she knew before I did.
“I’ll have to find an apartment to rent. It needs to have studio space, though. I’ve missed painting. It’s like someone has chopped off my arm and now I have to learn to live without it.”
Shadow lets out a small nicker
“I hope the guys are excited about it too,” I return with a shy smile. “Worst case scenario–”
Bear pauses mid-step, and his hackles slowly rise.
Shadow and I stop with him, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.
Bear’s ears point toward the trees.
“What’re you looking at, Bear?”
Silence continues to be the only answer.
I wait a minute to satisfy Bear, then guide the three of us to resume.
This time, I don’t say a word, listening intently for any sound at all. The trees get closer and closer to the footpath, narrowing the space.
A twig snaps behind us, causing me to jump and turn around.
But the shaded path is empty.
I shake my head side to side, attempting to dispel all unnecessary anxious thoughts, and push on forward again.
I’ve only taken a couple of steps when a bush beside the path rattles.
My grip on the lead tightens, forcing the polyester fibers to bite into my palm.
It’s a squirrel.
Or a bird.
Except it’s winter. Squirrels hibernate, and birds fly south.
Quickening my pace, I pull Shadow rather than lead her like I’m supposed to. My breath turns into shallow gasps as my chest rises and falls in rapid succession.
A blur of warm gray darts in my path and emits a low growl.
Bear’s protective stance in front of Shadow and me turns into a predatory bow.
A drop of sweat rolls down my spine as my knees tremble, threatening to give out.
My voice is tight, cracking slightly as I shout into the trees. “H–hello?”
Nothing.
My words don’t even echo through the wooded area.
Forcing my pitch up an octave, I call out again. “If someone is out there…”
Nothing.
The trees don’t sway.
The snow doesn’t fall.
The stab of terror in my gut is almost unbearable.
Keeping my attention on our surroundings, I turn Shadow back around. “Okay, that’s enough walking for today. Let’s go back.”
Bear takes the lead this time, setting a jogging pace for the three of us.
My breaths come harder.
Quicker.
Heavier.
I’m no longer a princess in an enchanted fairytale. I’m more like the damsel running away from the mysterious evil spirit that haunts her.
A deafening crash reverberates through the wood.
My heart stops, and I’m unable to move.
Fear takes over every muscle in my body.
Shadow lets out a squeal and stomps her hooves, while Bear takes up his hostile stance, showing his teeth as he growls at the threat.
A crack of a fallen branch.
The snap of a twig.
Oh God.
My breath quickens, and my muscles become so tense to the point of shaking.
A patch of sagebrush shivers in the cold.
Every nerve in my body stands on end, waiting for the doom to reach us.
The snow clinging to the brush explodes outward as a white-tailed deer jumps from behind the foliage.
My heart almost leaps out of my chest as I startle.
The antlered buck stops in the middle of the trail, sniffs the air, and capers off.
The laugh that bursts out of my mouth is involuntary and accompanied by tears. I’m not sure if I’m crying in relief or joy.
“You just took ten years off my life, Bambi!” I bellow.
Blowing out a large breath, I look at Bear and Shadow. “Let’s go home.”
My hands won’t stop shaking. It’s so bad that I can’t even keep hold of the rope anymore. It slips out of my grasp three times before I just give up and send up a plea to the universe that Shadow doesn’t choose this moment to run away.