Chapter 7 #2
A gelding in stall five, halfway down the stable alleyway on the north side, stuck his head over his stall door and spotted Ty. The horse went nuts. Pawing the door, he tossed his head and snorted, rolled his eyes and stretched his lips out, flapping them like sheets in the wind.
Ty saw the animal and froze. “Gilligan,” he croaked, the sound raw, the painful reality undiluted. “I’ll get to you in a minute, my man.”
More horses appeared, peering out of their stalls to see what the hullabaloo was about. Recognizing Ty, they neighed and stomped their feet and gave every sound of joy one might expect from an excited herd of horses.
Kenzie grinned and then glanced at Ty to gauge his reaction. What she found wiped the smile off her face.
Ty stood staring at Gizmo’s stall, eyes wide as tea saucers and face as pale as cream. He shook. Not mild shaking, but the kind that was closer to a seizure. He stared straight ahead, his gaze narrowed on the stall door in front of him where no head had emerged.
Then, Gizmo was there. He moved with a faltering gait, his head bobbing in counterbalance to his limp, but it didn’t change the fact that his head appeared over the stall door.
Ty physically sagged so much he nearly fell.
Shoulders shaking, she watched as the man she’d always known as strong, indefatigable and hardheaded fell apart.
He moved forward through sheer force of will.
Tears spilled down the cheek he unknowingly presented in profile to her.
His lips moved in what she would guess could only be an invocation, and Gizmo’s ears strained toward the man as if he listened to every word.
Ty finally made it to the horse and stopped.
With incredible tenderness, Gizmo lowered his head and pressed his broad face into Ty’s chest. The animal loosed an audible sigh that said more than the most powerful words ever would.
Moving with infinite care, Ty rested one hand on the side of Gizmo’s cheek and bowed his head.
Tears fell faster. “What the hell were you thinking, you giant lunk? Nothing—no prize, no winnings, no title—nothing is worth what you put us through. If you thought different, you’re an idiot.
” The last was offered with such soft condemnation that it was impossible to know whether Ty was referring to himself or his horse.
Gizmo didn’t move, just leaned into Ty and held perfectly still as Ty ran his hands over every inch of hide he could reach. The horse’s long-lashed eyes slowly closed as he relaxed further. His bottom lip wobbled, and Ty smiled, the reaction softening the grief that had etched itself onto his face.
Never had Kenzie witnessed such a private reunion, and she hated herself more than a little for hiding in the shadows and watching such an intimate moment.
The other horses calmed down as Ty continued to talk, their faces turned toward him, ears perked and eyes alert.
It was only their silence that allowed Kenzie to hear his next statement.
“You and I both know that if it wasn’t for Kenzie, you wouldn’t be here right now.
It changes things between us, me and her.
Before? It was fun. I think it might have even been headed somewhere.
I don’t know. But now? I owe her a debt I can never repay.
I owe her. And we can’t ever go back to what we had before.
Hell, none of us can go back to what we had before.
At least you lived—” Ty’s voice broke, and he fought to regain control.
“She saved you when I couldn’t.” He let go of the walker and placed his other hand on Gizmo’s chin, lifting his head so they were face to face.
“Her money did for you what I couldn’t—got you the best of everything.
I wouldn’t ever have been able to afford the Galbreath Center.
She’s done right by us, so I have to set my pride aside and find a way to thank her.
” He closed his eyes. “I wish I could reset the clock on this whole thing, but there’s no such thing as a do-over.
Not for you. Not for me. Not for her. And definitely not for me and her. ”
The floor fell out from under Kenzie. He thought there could have been more between them? That maybe, just maybe, they could have been something?
The words changed everything. And nothing.
He resented the financial debt that he’d incurred, and she resented that money could create issues where none need exist. But she understood why he saw it as something he could never set right between them.
It was debt she’d accrued based on a single promise—a promise she’d made when she’d thought she might lose Ty.
The raw feelings she had for him meant she’d given her word without thinking, and she’d followed through on her promise because that was just who she was.
It would have been so much simpler if she hadn’t fallen for him, if she’d remained detached instead of letting the walls between them crumble, the same walls she’d worked so hard to create when they’d first met.
But she hadn’t. She’d opened the door to him and begun to fall for the one man from whom she’d sworn she’d never expect more than fun and respect.
Hidden in the shadows, she watched Ty with Gizmo. Her heart ached as if it had been pierced. She swallowed the sound of distress that choked her. There had to be a way out, a way that everyone could get what they wanted, what they needed, and no one had to get hurt.
There just had to be.