Chapter 40
FORTY
DYLAN
I hit the dirt track to Oakwood Ranch in a cloud of dust, skidding to a stop on the driveway and running straight for the open barn.
“Madison?” I call out, my heart sinking at the sight of the empty space.
There’s a movement behind me and I spin toward it, but it’s Travis, not Mad. He’s carrying a bag of feed and looks surprised to see me. “Hey, Dylan. You’re back early.”
“Have you seen a little girl?” I blurt out. “Dark blonde hair. Eight years old.”
His brow furrows as he shakes his head. “No, but it’s funny though because I was in the paddock with the mares, and…”
“What is it?” I push, willing him to get to the point.
“I think one of the mares is missing. I was just going to call you.”
“The little one, Rosie?” I ask.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
I glance over to the paddocks. Mad has taken Rosie. She knows she’s not supposed to go out without one of us. Izzy was right. She’s run away.
I’m already sprinting to the ranch house to get Buck as I yell at Travis, “Grab me Rusty’s saddle.”
It takes minutes before the orange gelding is ready and Buck is by our side.
I don’t know how much use he’ll be, but Madison adores him.
If anyone can coax her back to the ranch, it’s Buck.
I swing into the saddle, my pulse hammering.
It feels like the most natural thing in the world to be on Rusty’s back, urging him toward the lake with nothing but a gentle squeeze of my thighs.
We slow to a fast walk as we hit the trees.
I’m breathing fast, barely registering the dewy pine scents and the cool of the shade before we’re by the lake and I’m scanning the water and banks for any sign of Madison or Rosie.
My heart drops into my stomach for a second time. She’s not here.
Where else would she go?
My thoughts race back over the weekends Madison was here. Swimming and rope swings, football on the field, dinners at the ranch table, in the paddocks helping Izzy. Spending time with Quicksilver, and riding the ranch with us. Then it hits me, and suddenly I know exactly where to look.
I fire off a message to Izzy before pushing Rusty into a canter, Buck keeping pace by our side as I guide us past the football field to the edge of the ranch and the foothills, praying I’m right.
Praying Madison is safe. The sun is dipping in a sky washed with cotton-candy pink, but it’s not the beauty I see, it’s the time Madison has been on her own and the nightfall that’s coming.
My mouth is dry. My breathing quick. Rusty’s coat is slick with sweat, but I don’t slow down.
We hit the trail leading into the foothills, only slowing as we come to a steep incline and a sharp turn, where the path is overgrown with shrubs.
Please be there!
Another turn and there’s the cave. The one I used to come to when I thought I was in trouble as a kid. The one I showed Madison on one of our rides. I heave a sigh at the sound of a horse’s whinny and catch sight of Rosie tethered to a tree root. The mare is here. But where’s Madison?
Buck barks, galloping ahead now, disappearing into the cave before barking again. My feet hit the ground, my heart refusing to slow as I force myself not to think of Mad fallen, injured. She has to be OK!
“Madison?” My voice echoes against the rock face, but all I hear in response is the pounding of my own heart in my ears.
“Mad,” I try again, softening my voice. “It’s Dylan.”
Then a noise. A rustle. A muffled sob.
Relief floods me so fast my knees almost buckle. She’s here.
I yank out my phone and, with shaking fingers, send a three-word message to Izzy:
DYLAN: I’ve got her.
Securing Rusty beside Rosie, I drop down, crawling into the mouth of the cave.
It’s smaller than I remember from coming here as a kid.
My head is grazing the top of the cave at a crawl.
My eyes adjust to the gloom and there’s Madison, sitting on a blanket with a backpack and a teddy tucked by her side.
There’s a notebook open on the blanket, like she’s making one of her lists, but her face is streaked with tears and she’s hugging Buck tightly to her body, crying into his soft fur.
I smile, swallowing down the rock lodged in my throat as relief continues to skip through me. “Hey.” I smile.
Mad lifts her eyes and fresh sobs shake her tiny frame. She scrambles across the dirt and throws herself into my arms. Her body is solid and warm, and I wrap her into me. “It’s OK, Mad. It’s all OK.”
“You weren’t at the ranch,” she sobs. “I thought you’d left me too.”
Guilt slams into me worse than any defensive lineman ever has. I tighten my hold on her. “I’m sorry. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” And it’s the easiest promise I’ve ever made.
One I want to make more than anything else right now.
Mad, Izzy, this ranch. All of us together.
I just hope I’m not too late. I promised Izzy I would be there for the ranch and her, and I wasn’t.
Not fully. My head was still on the Stormhawks and what I saw as my failure.
But this promise to Mad is one I will keep if it’s the last thing I do.
Beside me, Mad sniffs and wipes at her tears with her hands.
“I didn’t want to go back to Grandma and Granddad’s house.
I wanted to come home, but I didn’t know where that was, and it made me upset, so I came here to talk to you.
But you were gone. And then I realized I was in trouble because I wasn’t supposed to be at the ranch, and I knew Mom would be mad, so I…
” She hiccups, patting her backpack. “I got Rosie and I came to live here. But I’ve already eaten all my snacks. ” Her little voice wobbles.
A soft chuckle escapes me as I catch the next tear with my thumb, wiping it away before it can run down her cheek. “I used to do the same. But Mad, this is your home. Oakwood Ranch is your home if you want it to be.”
Her lower lip trembles. “Mom said we couldn’t stay here anymore.”
I wish I could take the weight of her sadness as my own. How do I explain the mess and the mistakes I’ve made to this little girl who thinks adults have all the answers?
“Your mom and I had a fight, Mad,” I say.
“I thought I wanted to go back to a life in football, and she thought that meant I didn’t care about the two of you or the horses.
But that’s not true. It just took me a little time to realize what was most important in my life.
” I rub a hand over my beard, wondering if I’m making any sense. “Grown-ups make mistakes too.”
Madison’s voice drops to a whisper. “Like Mom and Dad having me?”
I shift back, making sure Madison is looking right at me, hearing what I’m going to say. “No, Mad. You were never a mistake. Your mom and dad love you so much.”
“But over the weekend, I heard Granddad tell Grandma I was a mistake.”
My jaw clenches, but I keep my voice steady. “I’m sorry you heard that. People say things they don’t mean sometimes. And also? People can be dicks.”
Her eyes grow wide. “Dylan!” She gasps, her horror quickly melting into a giggle.
I grin, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’m sure your grandparents love you very much.
What they probably meant was that your mom got married really young.
But your mom loves you more than I’ve ever seen anyone love anything or anyone, and I know for absolute certain that you are her entire world. She’s really worried about you.”
Madison’s mouth forms an “O” as fresh tears gather in her eyes. “I want to go home now. I want to see my mom.”
“Me too.” I smile. We crawl out of the cave and I scoop Mad into my arms and carry her to Rosie.
We take the ride back steady, Buck trotting at Rosie’s side. Madison is quiet and I leave her to her thoughts. The sun has almost disappeared as the ranch comes into view. The last rays stretch over the paddock in faint streaks of gold and pink.
“Dylan?” Mad says, voice barely more than a whisper. “Is this really my home now?”
“I want it to be, but we need to talk to your mom.”
“Don’t mess it up then,” Madison replies, and I’d laugh if I didn’t feel the weight of her hope pressing down on my chest along with my own.
I’ve been so stupid. I’ve been clinging to my past, grumpy as hell because I thought a life without football was failing.
But letting go, moving on, it doesn’t mean losing.
It means making room in my life for something else.
Something bigger and better than I ever imagined possible.
And it’s taken me too long to realize that the something is this ranch.
We don’t give up on what we love.
Mama told me that. Jake told me that. I thought they meant football, but now I think of the look on Jake’s face. Figure it out, cowboy. He knew before I did. I love the horses, the work, the peace of the land. But most of all, I love Mad and Izzy. And I’m never going to give up on them again.
The thought lands as Izzy comes into view.
She’s running toward us, her hair wild. A new kind of fear takes hold, grabbing me by the throat.
Izzy gave me her trust and I stomped on it with my own fears for my future.
Have I ruined everything? Am I too late?
The sight of her, like the first time I saw her—like every time since—steals my breath, makes my heart leap and my body long for her touch.