41. Candice
41
CANDICE
I spend the days after Nathan leaves working with the horses all day, and eating in the evenings with Beau. He doesn’t ask me why Nathan left so abruptly, and I assume that’s because Nathan must have let him know. I’m sure he’s also trying not to pry—he knows when I want space.
After dinner on Saturday night, I pull out the photo album we have of our parents and grandparents. I spread it out on the coffee table, and sit on a throw pillow on the ground, wrapped in Grammy’s blanket. Beau is in the kitchen washing dishes. I offered to do them, but he told me to sit my ass down and relax. I flip through the photo album page by page, lingering over each one for a moment, until I get to my favorite. It’s the one that has pictures of Mom and Dad in Paris on their honeymoon together. There’s one of Mom in front of a bakery holding a croissant, and another of them together, smiling in front of Notre Dame.
They were so in love, and they look so happy in the photos. It must have been a magical trip. I know it was the first time my mom went overseas, and that my dad’s family helped pay for them to go. A tear leaks out of my eye, and I quickly wipe it away. I flip to the back of the album and find a photo of us as a whole, complete family. Our parents, grandparents, Beau, and me. We’re standing in front of one of the paddocks, and two palomino horses are in the background.
Beau and I are bundled up, with pink cheeks and wide grins, and Mom and Dad are wearing their riding clothes. Grammy looks young, with only a few streaks of white in her blonde hair, and Gramps is looking at her like she’s his whole world. Another tear snakes down my cheek.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Beau asks.
I look up to find him standing over me, a concerned look on his face. He crouches down next to me, and pulls me in for a hug.
“I miss them,” I say against his chest.
“I do too.”
I pull away and try to compose myself, but fail miserably. I’ve always been bad at faking smiles and pretending to be happy when I’m not.
“What brought this on?” Beau asks.
“It hasn’t been that long since they passed away,” I say defensively.
“I know. I’m sad every day too, but you normally avoid looking at these photos.”
“Can’t a girl mope for a bit?”
“You can mope as much as you’d like but you also have to tell me if something else is going on.” He gives me an encouraging look and then waits in silence for me to fill in the gaps.
“I just wish…” I trail off, unsure of how much to tell my brother. While we’re close, I don’t want him to worry for me. At least not more than he already does. Beau has spent so much of his life taking care of me—I don’t like burdening him.
“What? What do you wish?” he prods.
“I wish I had what Mom and Dad had. What Grammy and Gramps had. And it makes me a bit sad, because I probably never will.” I play with the soft tassels of the blanket and avoid looking at my brother’s face. I don’t want to see it lined with worry.
“Candice, that’s not true. I know you’ve wanted a relationship for a while and I know I’m not the best at giving dating advice because, well, I’m no better than you in that area. But you’ll find someone.”
“Maybe,” I say, shrugging. “But maybe not. There aren’t many dating options in Star Mountain.”
“That’s damn true.” Beau sighs and rubs his forehead. “I’m going to regret asking this, but what about Nate?”
“What?” I reel back. “What do you mean?”
“Nate told me that he liked you—well, I pried it out of him. I wondered if you liked him back.”
Damn it. Beau must have noticed the vibe between Nathan and I. My brother is more astute than I give him credit for.
“I did like him back,” I admit. “But he left.”
“That prick. I told him I’d fucking kill him if he broke your heart.” Beau pulls out his ancient flip phone and brandishes it like a weapon.
“What are you doing?” I screech.
“Calling Nate to give him a piece of my mind.”
“It’s not a big deal, I swear! Besides, he asked me to be with him, and I’m the one who said no, so don’t be mad at him.”
“I’m so confused right now. This is why I don’t date,” Beau grumbles. “If you like him, why aren’t you two together?”
“Honestly? I’m starting to wonder the same thing myself.”
Beau just nods and flips through the photo album for a bit, looking through the photos of us together as a family. Him and Jenny both make it seem so simple—they both make it sound like love is enough. Like the fact that Nathan and I love each other is all that matters.
And maybe it is.
At least I’m brave enough now to admit it to myself.
“Beau?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you be okay here if I was gone sometimes? If sometimes I had to go be with Nathan wherever he was competing for a few weeks. Would that be okay?”
“Of course it would be okay. Why do you think you have to ask me that?”
“Because this place is our home, and it’s all we have. I don’t want to leave you to deal with everything alone.”
“It’s okay, Candice. I know you’ll always come back here, and that’s all that matters.”
I shrug and look down at the photo Beau is paused on. It’s one of Gramps with Maggie when she was just a few years old, about a month after we found her. I remember that day well—she was finally warming up to us, and she came over to him looking for pets and treats.
Beau follows my gaze and says, “You’re not letting anyone down if you need a break from this place occasionally. I promise.”
The next day, the only thing I can think about is Nathan. And how he left without knowing that I love him.
How I let him leave. I didn’t fight for him, or for us. I was weak, and scared, and I hate myself a little bit for it. Especially since I never, ever settle for weak or scared with one of the horses. I fight for them. I have hope for them. I do everything in my power to save them, to heal them, to give them a good life.
Whatever is between Nathan and I deserves that same kind of fight. Frustrated with myself and my idiocy, I leave the barn office where I’ve been doing paperwork and head over to Maggie’s stall, where she’s eating her warm morning mash. It’s cold enough outside that she wants to be in her stall some of the time these days, and I’m grateful for it.
“Hey Mags,” I say as I let myself into her stall and perch down in the shavings. “Do you mind if I hide here for a bit?”
She’s nose deep in mash but flicks her ears towards me. The best part of being with horses is that they’re perfectly happy to let you sit with them and talk, or be completely silent. I scroll through social media, and see that Western Horsewoman has posted a teaser of the interview with Nathan and I, which is going live next week. It’s a shot of Nathan’s face in profile, with Ballantine next to him, and a quote about his plans to keep competing.
I feel sick to my stomach looking at it.
Next week, when the article goes live online, he’ll scroll through it and see the part where I say there’s nothing going on between us. He heard me say it out loud and now he’s going to have to read it in print.
And it’ll be a lie—a complete and total lie.
One thing I am definitely not , is a liar. Even back when Nathan and I hated one another, we never lied to each other. I might be weak willed and scared of love, but I’m not a liar.
I exit the app and then hit call next to the number I have for Shane’s office.
“Shane Mercy’s office, how can I help?”
“Hello, this is Candice Wilson. Is Shane available?”
“She has meetings all day, sorry,” the person on the other end of the line says.
“Tell her it’s Candice Wilson and that I changed my answer to her last question. She’ll want to hear what I have to say. I promise.”
I hang up resolutely. Now all I can do is wait and hope that she calls me back in time.