Chapter 54
Chapter Fifty-Four
S moke filled clothes lay discarded on the bathroom floor attached to Broome and Simi’s guest room. Finn fell into bed beside Rose after a quick shower. She was already asleep.
He glanced at the nightstand on Rose’s side of the bed. A digital clock read five a.m. Despite their ordeal, he hadn’t fallen asleep. Too many what ifs. He kept his arms snug around her. Each rise and fall of her chest against his hand reassured him they were alive. That she was alive.
He’d almost lost her. He’d never forget those moments, opening his eyes to see Rose facing off with a madman. Her slide backwards. The fear he wouldn’t reach her in time. His head ached, but the pain seemed nothing compared to how close he’d come to losing her.
Her love of rain boots had saved her life. Who would have thought?
She shifted in her sleep, made a small noise. The straps of her leg brace rubbed against his knee. The hospital had given her an injection for pain, but she continued to fret in her sleep.
The threat afterwards, Louise Winston holding a gun, seemed minor compared to what happened inside the house.
Sunlight trailed over the room’s curtains as Finn drifted off. Dreams came.
Not of the nightmare of the recent hours, but of a night years ago when he’d been only eight.
The barn fire on the Briar House estate.
This time, he wasn’t a participant. The nightmare played like a movie.
He and his parents showed up to help. His parents moved forward, took their places on the bucket brigade.
He rushed to find Rose and Thorne, along with their siblings, all in pajamas and nightgowns.
A younger, wide-eyed Chelsea stood beside her aunt.
He’d forgotten she’d been there. Their neighbor, Ty, gave them a task.
To help the bucket brigade. They ran the empty buckets back to the beginning of the line by the creek.
Sirens cut through the night. The firetrucks pulled in. Swirling lights illuminated all the people helping. The bucket brigade retreated once the firefighters rolled out their hoses and set up.
He saw himself, the other kids, gather around his mom, Ms. Tess, and Aunt Norah. All of their gazes fixed on the burning barn.
They pulled a person out of the barn, thankfully still alive. He’d later learn that Boone Murray had been watching over a mare about to foal. He’d been taken quickly away by ambulance.
The horses were evacuated, tied to trail posts on the edge of the woods. Except for one. Lady. She hadn’t come out with the others. The flames grew.
Some said later that the beautiful horse Lady shouldn’t have been able to walk, let alone run at full force out of the stable. Not in the condition she’d been in.
No one stopped her. They may have been too scared.
He heard the scream as he had then. Witnessed again the moment Lady erupted from the barn, her coat smoldering.
A long, glowing metal chain struck the ground behind her.
Alongside the other frightened kids, he watched the dark horse come to an abrupt halt in front of Ms. Magnolia.
A man stood in front of her as if ready to protect her.
Love was like that. He’d witnessed how Lady stuck to Ms. Magnolia as if she’d been the one to foal her.
When the beautiful mare went down to her knees, Ms. Magnolia went with her, running her hands over the horse’s head and along her neck. Someone hosed Lady down with water. Others stepped up to help guide Lady down to her side as gently as possible.
Even then, at eight years old, he knew. No horse came out like that and lived. His mom’s arms fixed around him, Rose, and Thorne.
Her shaky voice, thick with tears, said, “Close your eyes.”
He could hear Tess’ soft voice saying the same thing, her arms wrapped around Willow and Chelsea.
He’d closed his eyes, just like Mom said, but it grew so quiet as if a wind had blown all the sound away. Then he’d heard it, the cock of a single gun, just like Pa’s. His eyes opened. He couldn’t look away.
He watched Ms. Magnolia point a gun at her own horse, the one Rose called her favorite. A man stood behind her, his hands over hers.
Even from where he stood, he saw Ms. Magnolia was crying. Finn felt sorry for her. Did they really have to?—
The gun fired. His younger self closed his eyes as if doing so could erase what he’d just seen.
It hadn’t. For weeks, he relived that sight in his nightmares.
Both his folks sat with him each time, explaining that the horse had been in considerable pain, that it had been a mercy.
He understood what they were saying, but the nightmares didn’t stop.
He relived that night again and again. For months.
He woke on his back, covered in sweat. Rose slept quietly beside him.
It had been years since he’d watched Lady die. He had felt and seen all that his younger self had. But there was more.
For the first time, he noticed the identity of the man who’d had his hands around Ms. Magnolia’s when the gun fired. The same man who held a sobbing woman in his arms, just like Pa held Mom after.
He moved closer to Rose, curled an arm around her, and drifted back into sleep.
When Finn fully woke a few hours later, he remembered the nightmare. Questions swirled. Could one trust the images seen in flashback dreams? If so, the man holding Ms. Magnolia, had the two of them ever been involved?