CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Nova
TAKING A DEEP brEATH, I LOOKED AROUND MOONRIDGE Meadow Ranch. Aster’s family’s spread was absolutely breathtaking and an operation far greater than Waylon’s smaller setup. But it had its own special energy.
I couldn’t quite define it. A peacefulness that came from wide-open spaces surrounded by forests, maybe. The rolling hills where horses and cattle grazed. It calmed the soul.
The air was different, too. Pine with a crisp bite, thanks to the change in the weather, and the scent of horses. A couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have thought I’d have liked that. But I found it oddly comforting. Earthy. Grounding.
“Nova,” a familiar voice called.
I turned to see Aster striding toward me. She wore that same cowboy hat with the flat brim and colorful ribbon at the base.
“This is quite the operation,” I said, gesturing to the massive horse barn, complete with stunning architectural finishes like exposed beams and expert arches. It even had chandeliers.
Her mouth curved, making those pale-blue eyes twinkle. “Granddad always says the horses deserve somewhere pretty to lay their heads.”
“I can’t argue with you there.”
Aster’s gaze roamed over my face, settling on my eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, really.”
She arched a brow.
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me. “All right. Normally, when I say that, it’s a big fat lie. But right now, it’s the truth. I’m okay. Some things are amazing. Other things are really freaking hard. But it’s all sort of evening out, making me feel like I can make it through.”
“You will,” Aster vowed. “And it’s good to mark the amazing stuff. Helps us walk through the rest.”
“I’m starting to see that.”
She glanced toward what looked like some sort of ring where half a dozen horses were tied to the inside of the fence at different intervals. “I’m glad you wanted to come early. I think you might like this.”
Nerves bubbled up from somewhere deep, but I kept breathing.
“My friend and colleague, Marly, works in a special discipline called equine therapy. She actually trained me in it,” Aster began.
She inclined her head toward a woman in a curved cowboy hat with wild gray hair that hung around her. She moved with some combination of confidence and gentleness that spoke to me.
“Therapy with horses?” I asked.
“That’s it. Sometimes, having your focus on something other than simply sitting and talking helps the process. And honestly, I think horses have a healing magic of their own, something no human can bring to the table.”
That was something I valued about Aster—that she talked to me about the process.
Explained what would happen. During my therapy experience in the past, it felt like the doctor was constantly trying to trick me into opening up.
Aster made me feel like maybe I could be on the same team as a therapist.
“Think maybe you’d like to meet Marly and take part today? It’ll give you a feel for things, see if this modality might be right for you,” Aster suggested.
Those nerves amplified. “I can’t do just one with you?” The idea of opening up to someone new had my stomach cramping.
Aster’s expression was full of understanding.
“We’re friends, Nova. At least, I hope we are.
And that means I can’t be your therapist. But I will always be your friend.
I’ll listen, and I’ll be here. I’ll help you find someone who is the exact right fit to walk you through this on the therapeutic side. ”
“Okay,” I rasped. “Thank you.”
“I’m with you all the way. Whatever you need.”
And that was a comfort. Because I believed her.
The woman with the gray hair and smile lines around her eyes approached.
“Marly, this is my friend Nova. Nova, this is my friend, Marly.”
The older woman smiled, and it came easily, just as I’d expected it would. Nothing about it was forced or too big. “It’s nice to meet you, Nova. Aster said you might want to join our group today.”
I swallowed hard. “Nice to meet you, too. I think I’d like to … try.”
“That’s all any of us can do,” Marly said sagely.
I kept breathing. “They’re beautiful,” I admitted, taking in the six horses.
There were a variety of colors. I recognized the brown and white patchwork one that Aster had been riding the day Maverick and I had run into her on the trail.
There was a black horse with a white stripe down its nose.
A brown one with a little white patch between its eyes.
A reddish-brown one. Another that looked like the horse equivalent of a blonde.
And the one standing farthest away was a deep gray, kind of like my eyes but with a freckled swath over its rump.
“Is there one calling to you?” Marly asked.
My gaze flicked to her. “Calling to me?”
She shrugged easily. “You might think I’m a little woo-woo, and that’s okay, but I think there’s something spiritual between horses and people. Maybe horses and everything around them. When we open ourselves to it, it creates a connection that can heal.”
I took a deep breath. I remembered feeling that way from yoga.
Before. Before everything fell apart. But even then, I didn’t let it in deep.
Maybe because I was already carrying so many wounds.
I’d basically raised myself, my parents not giving a damn and making it clear.
I’d been on my own at such a young age, and it was terrifying.
But now, it was time. To dig deep. To heal the things that were harming me so I didn’t bring them into this new chance at life.
I stared at the horses, letting my gaze hover over each one and opening myself to whatever I might feel. My gaze kept landing on the gray the longest. Something about the horse tugged at me.
“The gray one,” I croaked.
Aster smiled, genuine pleasure moving across her face. “Twilight. That’s her name. She’s an Appaloosa mare. And she’s a tough judge of character.”
A chuckle left my lips. “Of course, I’d choose the picky bitch. It’s only fitting.”
“Takes one to know one,” Aster teased as Marly chuckled.
“You know it.” But a hint of excitement filled me.
“Hey,” a deep voice greeted.
Something about it was familiar, and I turned to see Jack, the man from the Compass meeting—the one who’d lost his wife to Travis’s reign of terror.
I forced a smile, even though it wavered. “Hi, Jack.”
His gaze stayed on my face as he frowned slightly. “You okay?” When I didn’t answer right away, he went on. “Was at the Boot when Wylder got the call that you were missing.”
Great. I couldn’t wait for my coworkers’ reactions about that. “Just a little mountain biking mishap. My sense of direction isn’t so great.”
“You need to be careful,” he said, making an effort to gentle his voice. “With everything going on …”
I did not need that reminder, but I knew it came from a place of care, so I simply nodded. “I will. I think I’m going to stay off the mountain biking trails for a while.”
“Smart,” he said gruffly.
“Okay,” Marly cut in. “I think it’s about time.”
A wave of excitement and nerves swept through me, but it was a lot better than the dread I’d felt before my past therapy appointments. I followed Marly toward the ring, but Jack stuck close, as if he were keeping an eye on me.
Shit.
I could only imagine what I represented to him, someone who had made it out of the torture his wife hadn’t. Me getting lost probably stirred all that up.
We headed toward a group of three other people who’d clustered near the ring.
I didn’t recognize any of them. There was a man who looked to be in his sixties, with gray hair and a mustache.
A woman in her fifties, with brown hair swept up into a ponytail.
And finally, a younger woman, probably about my age, with hair that was a mix of light brown and blond.
“Hello, everyone,” Marly greeted. “I’d like you to meet Nova. She’s joining us today.”
There was a smattering of hellos.
“Nova, you obviously already know Jack. This is Eddie, Gena, and Livie.” Marly introduced the group in age order, from the oldest to the youngest.
“Nice to meet you.” I gripped my hands in front of me to keep them from trembling.
The youngest woman, Livie, sent me a kind smile, and something about her was familiar. “First time doing equine therapy?”
I nodded. “That obvious?”
“I recognize the nerves. It’s pretty amazing, and that’s coming from someone who was terrified of horses before this.”
Marly laughed. “And look at you now. You even went on a trail ride with Aster last week.”
Livie flicked her hair over her shoulder in a dramatic move meant for humor. “I think I’ve earned the cowboy hat I have my eye on at that secondhand shop in town.”
“Girl, snap it up,” Gena said, her brown eyes sparkling.
A low ringing sound cut into the conversation, and Livie pulled out her phone, frowning. “Olivia Bishop,” she answered. Her frown only deepened. “I’ll be there in about fifteen.”
“Work?” Marly inquired sympathetically.
“Always,” Livie grumbled. “I’ll be back next week.” She glanced at me. “Nice to meet you, Nova.”
As she headed to her car, I wondered if she was an on-call doctor or a nurse or something else.
“All right,” Marly said. “Let’s begin. I’ll assign your horses.”
I made my way into the ring and toward Twilight, getting close but not within kicking or biting range. I could hear Aster giving the rest of the group instructions, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the mare.
She was beautiful, but her eyes were haunted in a way I recognized. Like I saw in the mirror every single morning.
Marly moved in next to me. “First time around horses?”
“I think I did a pony ride when I was nine,” I admitted. “The handlers led us around a ring at a carnival.” One Brae’s parents had taken me to—never mine.
“You can take your time,” Marly assured me. “There’s no rush. This is all about discovery—of her and of you. There’s no wrong lesson. But caring for her will teach you things about how you care for yourself and how others have cared for you throughout your life.”
My lips pressed together, but I nodded.
“Twilight is the best of them. She came to Aster through a rescue organization,” Marly went on.
My focus switched from the horse to Marly, because I’d been right about those haunted eyes.
“An abuse situation. Aster said it took her a good long while to start to trust, and they’re still finding their way.” Marly moved toward the horse. She stroked the mare’s neck and dropped her forehead to Twilight’s. “But she’s getting there. Aren’t you, girl?”
The horse blew out a breath between her lips.
“That’s right.” Marly scratched under her chin. “The main things when starting out are: no quick movements and keep your palm flat when you come up to her mouth.” Marly demonstrated, the mare lipping at her open palm. “She wants a treat.”
“I would, too.”
“Want to try giving her a pet?”
I did, but anxiety stirred, that familiar buzz lighting in my muscles along with the urge to bolt.
“There’s no rush,” Marly encouraged.
“I want to,” I croaked, taking a step closer.
Marly shifted so she was standing by the horse’s neck. “I’m right here. Why don’t you start out by letting her scent you? Hold out your hand like I did.”
Painfully slowly, I stretched out a hand. There was no missing that it shook, but I kept it out anyway.
Twilight sniffed twice, then lipped my hand. Her whiskers tickled my palm, and I let out the last sound I expected—a laugh.
Marly placed a hand on the mare’s neck. “You can stroke her cheek or her face, scratch between her ears. She likes that.”
I lifted my hand slowly, gently setting it against her cheek. The horse moved closer, startling me back a step. My throat burned.
“Talk me through what happened just then.”
“She moved too fast and …”
“And?” Marly pressed.
“I thought she was going to bite me.” The burn in my throat spread behind my eyes. “I thought she was going to bite me because I’m always waiting for the bite. The slap. The hurt. The pain.”
It was what I’d known for so long. Way before Travis. He’d only cemented the fear.
“But not everyone or everything will bite. Not everyone or everything will hurt,” Marly said softly.
“No. They won’t.” Kol didn’t. Neither did Brae. Or Owen. Or Skylar. Or the whole new world I was building.
“So,” Marly continued, “we’re cautious, but we let people show us who they are. We don’t rush it. But we don’t assume, either.”
I took a step back toward Twilight. “Sorry, girl,” I whispered. “Sometimes, I think the worst.” I slowly lifted my hand again and stroked her cheek.
The horse stretched out her neck and pulled part of my jacket between her lips.
A giggle left me. “There aren’t any carrots in there.”
She blew out a breath through her nose as she released my coat.
Gathering my bravery, I raised my other hand, ghosting it over her forehead. Twilight pressed into my touch, a silent request for more. So I gave it to her. Stroke after stroke until we found our rhythm.
“It’s quite a give and take,” Marly whispered. “We just have to be still enough to see the signs.”
My chest ached, but it was the beautiful kind. If this gorgeous creature had found a way to trust again, maybe I could, too.