Chapter 32 – Kev
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
KEV
“What do you think?” He touched the folded wool saddle pad to River’s neck, brushed it over her withers. “Is today the day?”
By way of answer, she threw her head into the air, pawing viciously at the dirt in the round pen.
“I’m not sure that was a yes,” he conceded, unfolding the pad. “But we’ve got to try it, sweetheart.”
Waiting until she stopped digging a hole to disappear into, he slid the saddle pad over her neck. He’d already saddled her twice in the last few days, but she still wasn’t used to it. And when the heavy pad touched her shoulders, she startled, jumped her legs out wide, her muscles straining, primed to run. But she didn’t run. And after a tense moment, he eased the pad down carefully until it settled into place over her back.
In a heartbeat, her withers started twitching violently, her ears pinned while she tried to shake off what likely felt like a gigantic fly that had just landed on her.
“Shh,” Kev soothed, running a hand down her neck, trying to calm her nerves, trying not to let her see the way his shot off like a bottle rocket .
“She’s doing great,” Jen said quietly, watching him from the other side of the rail.
“This is so neat,” Stanley chimed in, standing with Madigan, Davis, and the other guys a few feet back from the pen.
“She is one good-looking mare,” Tex said, tipping his hat.
Eyeing River warily, Brayden said, “I think you’re all nuts. She looks like she’s about to bite his balls off.”
“Brayden,” Madigan warned.
“Sorry, Boss,” Brayden said. “She looks like she’s about to bite his junk off. That better?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Madigan sighed deeply.
Kev hadn’t necessarily intended to try to ride River for the first time with this big of an audience. But based on how well Kev had responded to Jen’s equine therapy, Madigan had wanted to give the other guys a chance to try it out too before winter hit.
“You want me to hold her reins while you saddle her?” Jen asked, her focus rock solid despite the distractions all around them. Just like his needed to be.
Turning his attention back to River, to her upright neck, her wide eyes, tight mouth, Kev said, “She still doesn’t like the saddle. I think she’ll panic more if we hold her. If she feels trapped.”
Taking a step back, releasing the pressure, Jen nodded. “I think you’re right. You know her well, Kev. Let’s see how she does.”
Guiding River over to the rail, he let her sniff the saddle, snort at it, nudge it with her nose. While he waited for her to lose interest, Davis made her way over to them.
“Hi, River.” She held out her palm, letting the mare snatch a mint from her hand. “Good girl.” Glancing up at Kev, she asked, “Are you scared?”
“A little,” he said, underplaying the fear pulsing through him by a mile. He grabbed the saddle’s horn to rock it back and forth on the rail, letting River snort at it again. “I think if I can get her to take the saddle without bucking like a bronc this time, we’ll be good. ”
“I’ve got more mints in my pocket,” Davis whispered. “If you want me to distract her.”
Giving her a crooked grin, he said, “My savior. Yes, please.”
In the week since their night together, the night that had redefined love and joy and perfection and pleasure for him forever, Davis had somehow become even more beautiful. Sometimes, like now, he had a hard time looking at her. Because when he did, all he wanted to do was kiss her, hold her, make love to her. A thing they hadn’t been able to do since the hotel. A thing he dreamed about doing again every waking moment.
“I have good news,” she said, unwrapping another mint.
“Oh yeah?” Kev slid the saddle off the rail, lifting it into his arms while River balked, then sniffed at it again, then decided Davis’s mint was more exciting. “What’s that?”
“I got accepted into the social work program. I start next week.”
“Really?” His smile practically cracked his face in half, but his eyes misted too. It took him a second to realize why—that at least some small part of him was still convinced it wasn’t real, that she wasn’t really staying. That something would happen to make her leave. He supposed the effects of a lifetime spent worrying that everyone he loved would leave him wouldn’t vanish overnight. He could give himself that much grace at least. But he’d be lying if he said that her news didn’t set his soul at ease. This was real. She was staying. She loved him, and she was staying. “Baby, that’s amazing.”
“Did he just call her baby?” he heard Ace ask, followed by Madigan gruffly clearing his throat. Boss shorthand for zip it .
“Sorry.” Davis winced. “We can talk about it later. In private. Right now, you’ve got a horse to ride.”
Mouthing, love you , earning the sweetest love you more mouthed back, Kev held the saddle under River’s nose and said, “All right, sweetheart. It’s time.”
“You’ve got this, Kev,” Jen said, brimming with a confidence in him that he definitely didn’t share. Even though it had been years since he’d hopped onto a green horse, he could still feel the bruises, the sore neck from bucking-induced whiplash, the overwhelming weight of lungs that refused to expand after a fall knocked the wind out of him. But the last thing he wanted was for River to sense his nerves. At least one of them needed to act like they knew what they were doing. At least one of them needed to stay cool.
Taking a deep breath, he let River sniff the saddle one more time, then he hoisted it over her back without fanfare. Like they’d done it a hundred times before. Because sometimes that was just how the hard things needed to be done, eyes closed, heart in throat, but hands steady. Knowing things might not work out, but believing without fail that they would. And this time, they did.
River took the saddle surprisingly well, only objecting once with a half-hearted rear before Davis distracted her with another mint. Eternally grateful for food-motivated horses, Kev did up the cinch—which took another three mints—and then he led River around the round pen.
While they walked, while he got her used to the saddle, the cinch, these things she didn’t know, didn’t understand, probably didn’t like yet had allowed him to put on her, he thought about trust. He’d lived so much of his life believing that he shouldn’t trust anyone or anything. People left. They died. They said one thing and did another. They hurt him, lied to him, abandoned him. It took seeing that same belief reflected in River’s big brown eyes for him to start questioning whether what they both feared the most was actually true or just really bad fucking luck.
Because he trusted Davis. He trusted Madigan. He was even starting to trust himself. And if he could just convince River to trust him too, that he wasn’t going to hurt her or abandon her, maybe they could help each other move on in their lives. Maybe they could heal from their pasts together.
Leading her to the mounting block, asking Davis to bring more mints—because even something as daunting as trust was easier to earn with treats—Kev climbed the steps. He waited, put his foot in the stirrup, pushed down a few times. But the second he pulled on the horn, River flinched.
When she swung her haunches away from the block, he let her, hopping down to walk her around the pen again. Eventually, he brought her back to the mounting block, lined her up, stepped into the stirrup, pulled on the horn, and let her walk off again. After two more rounds of this, he lined her up, tugged on the horn, and steeled his nerve when she finally stayed put. “Okay,” he whispered to her, or maybe to himself. “Moment of truth.”
Holding his breath, he stepped into the stirrup and eased his leg over her back. Immediately, a primal, fist-of-god type fear closed in all around him. There was so much potential energy coiling beneath the saddle it felt like he was riding a bolt of lightning instead of a horse.
“Easy girl,” he soothed, trying to keep his body relaxed while hers practically vibrated. “Easy.”
At his voice, his gentle tone, she calmed a fraction, enough to let him center his weight over her back without feeling like she’d explode. And then her ribs expanded against his legs. Which was good. At least she was breathing. At least she wouldn’t straight up keel over with him on top of her.
“Wanna walk?” he asked, his tone light, heart pounding.
She didn’t budge at first, but after a moment, she took one step, and then another. And then they were moving. Sitting quietly, he let her lead the way as she ambled around the pen. After a few uneventful laps, she stopped, dropped her head, and blew into the dirt. When she started pawing at the ground, Jen said, “Don’t panic, Kev. But I think she wants to roll.”
Not wanting any part of that action, he gave her sides a gentle squeeze. When that didn’t work, he clicked his tongue. When she kept pawing, when he felt the swooping drop of her hind legs bending, he did, in fact, panic.
Yanking her reins up while Jen said something to him he couldn’t hear over his hammering heart, he dug his heels into her sides, kicking? —
The sky was truly beautiful, a deep, vibrant blue. Delicate white clouds drifted by, totally oblivious to Kev’s throbbing head and aching ass.
“Kev!” Davis cried, leaning over the rail, looking down at where he’d been deposited unceremoniously into the dirt. “Are you okay?”
“And this is why we wear helmets,” Jen said under her breath. Then, louder, “Need help?”
“Nah. I’m good,” Kev grunted, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He spotted River standing on the other side of the round pen, staring at him with a thoroughly unimpressed expression that said, You kick me, I dump you. I’m glad we understand each other.
While Eleanor jumped up onto the railing—adding to River’s silent scolding with an unimpressed glance down at Kev before licking one of her paws—Jen said, “Well, then.” She ducked her chin. “You know what they say.”
“When you fall off,” Stanley began, also staring down at Kev over the fence.
“You get right back on,” the rest of the men finished.
“You’ve got this, Kev,” Brayden said, seeming sincere for once. “Even though I still think you’re nuts.”
Tex came to the rail, his hat shading his eyes. “She won’t have as much fight in her this time. Sit back, hold on, and ride her out.”
Kev repeated the words in his head while he walked back to River’s side. Sit back, hold on, and ride it out. He could do that.
When he eased his leg over the saddle a second time, the lightning didn’t even wait to strike. His butt touched leather, and River bolted. But he sat back, he held on, and he let her run and buck and kick and fight as much as she needed to. And even though his life flashed before his eyes more than once and his neck would definitely be aching in the morning, damn , it was fun.
“Atta girl,” he said, finding a rhythm with her while she slowed from a wild, sideways gallop into a less-wild lope and then to a fairly calm trot. Not squeezing his legs or trying to guide her with the reins. Resigning himself to passenger status, giving her the power to decide where they went, how quickly or slowly they got there, when they stopped. Staying with her every step of the way.
“Wow,” Jen said, exhilaration lighting her up when River finally decided to stop. “Excellent job, Kev.”
Pride rushed through him, intense as a flood. “Thanks, Jen,” he said, pulling the words straight from his heart. “Like, for everything.”
“Careful getting down,” she told him. Her eyes were wide and clear, but there was weight behind the words. “Sometimes the dismount is the hardest part.”
He sensed the deeper meaning. Don’t lose your focus. Don’t assume you can stop working because you feel like you’ve crossed some finish line. Don’t rush the dismount in your own life. Like all the others Jen had given him since he’d started working with her, he appreciated the lesson.
As luck would have it, River was more than happy to have him off her back, standing still as a statue while he slid down her side.
“Good girl,” he praised, loosening the girth, running his hand down her neck, knowing they’d try again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. Every day that Jen would let him keep coming here, keep working with her. Realizing how much he never wanted his time at Strawberry Farms to end.
After untacking River, accepting an ecstatic high five from Davis and a tight hug from Jen, Kev made his way to Madigan and the men. They were watching him silently, their expressions stern, their arms crossed.
Squinting at them, because something was up, he said, “Guys?”
While Madigan looked to the sky, fighting back a swell of emotion Kev had a hard time imagining was due to a horse, Tex stepped forward. Pulling a box out from behind his back, he said, “We all chipped in. Clay too.”
When Kev took the box, his hands trembled. Why? He wasn’t sure. Probably the adrenaline comedown after getting dumped in the dirt. Couldn’t have been anything else. “What is it?” he asked .
“It’s a boat,” Brayden answered dryly, but his voice was too thick for the sarcasm to hit. “Just open it.”
Cracking the lid, Kev peered inside. Then he jerked his head back up, his friend’s faces swimming through his suddenly misty vision.
“You’re a cowboy,” Tex explained, the only one of them maintaining his composure, as Stanley ran a knuckle under his eye. “And cowboys need hats.”
Fighting the wobble in his voice, Kev said, “But there aren’t even any cows here.”
Tex chuckled. “It’s a state of mind, Kev. Just go with it.”
Lifting the hat from the box—a replica of Tex’s, but far less ratty—Kev held it like it was made of solid gold. While Davis and Jen came to his side, he said, “I can’t believe you did this for me.” He slid the hat onto his head, tipping the brim up and down until it felt right. “It’s too much.”
“You’ve been through a lot, Kev.” Madigan’s deep voice cut through the din, commanding everyone’s attention without even trying. Even River’s ears perked up. “But instead of letting the setback hold you down, you’ve worked hard, opened yourself up, learned from it, grown from it. And you’ve shown all of us that a relapse isn’t the end. That sometimes, it’s just a new beginning.”
While the guys nodded, while Davis interlaced her fingers with his, Kev pulled himself together as best he could and said, “Thank you. All of you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
True to form—even though his eyes were shining—Brayden broke the tension, making everyone groan when he said, “Take it down a notch, people. It’s just a hat.”
As they watched River head back out into her pasture, watched Maggie race up to meet her, squealing at the top of her pissed-off lungs for being left alone all day, Jen said, “She did so great today.” When Kev nodded, Jen added, “You did great too. I honestly never thought I’d see the day when she’d accept a rider, let alone a friend.”
After showing the guys around the barn while Jen explained the purpose of her therapy, then seeing them off, thanking them again one at a time before they headed back up the mountain. After hugging Davis for a solid minute before she headed home too, Kev was already so emotionally drained he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.
Adjusting his new hat on his head so it shielded his eyes from the slant of afternoon sunlight, he said the only thing he could think of. “Horses are amazing.”
“They really are,” Jen agreed. Then she turned to face him, her red braid burnished gold. “Do you have a second before you head back? I want to show you something.”
Walking in step with her down a road behind the main barn he’d never walked down before, he kicked at a few rocks, enjoying the silence between them, the crunch of gravel under his boots, the soft sounds of horses grazing in their pastures, the world finally winding down after one hell of a day.
“So.” Jen kicked her own rock. “Here’s the thing. I’m a busy woman.”
“Understatement,” he said. He’d wondered more than once if she ever slept.
“My rehab facility has offered me three days a week instead of two, and as much as I want to be here, I really can’t turn down the money. Not right now, anyway.”
Not sure where this conversation was headed, and mildly concerned she was about to tell him she was going to sell the barn or something, he said, “That makes sense.”
When they rounded a corner, the road smoothing out into a driveway, Kev finally recognized where they were. He’d seen the white shed they were walking toward in the far corner of River’s pasture.
“I haven’t had any help with Strawberry Farms since Scott left,” Jen said. “It’s taking a toll on me. My back is a mess, my neck is even worse. And I’m not getting any younger.”
Dread swirled inside Kev’s stomach. “I’m sure it’s not easy,” he said, crossing his fingers and toes in his mind because he didn’t want to lose this place. He’d only just found it.
“With such limited time,” she said, “I want to be able to focus on the therapy with the horses when I’m here and less on the work of running a barn.”
“I could help out more,” he said without even thinking, just letting the words cartwheel feverishly out of him. “Volunteer or something. I could come early in the mornings before my shifts at Bluebird and come back after dinner. Help feed and clean stalls. You’ve done so much for me. I feel like it’s the least I could do.”
“Well, Kev. That’s just it,” she said while a row of juniper bushes sprang up on either side of them, a willow tree swaying gently in the breeze off to their right, providing an umbrella of shade over the property that was clearly not a shed, but a house, old but well maintained, with big windows and a small porch. “I need more than a volunteer. I need someone to be here when I’m not, to love these horses just as much as I love them. I need someone who can help me run the therapy program. Someone who understands addiction and cares about people with substance abuse issues. I need a barn manager.”
Stopping in front of the house, just off the weathered stone path wandering through its big green yard up to the porch, Jen said, “I can’t pay you much more than minimum wage. But if you’re interested, I can?—”
“Wait,” he said, shock shoving him a full step back. “What do you mean pay me? What… Jen, what are you saying?”
“It’s a paid position, Kev. Full time.”
He blinked at her. “You want me to be your barn manager?”
With a gentle smile, she said, “I can’t think of a single person better for the job.”
His jaw simply fell open. How was this possible? How was any of this real? How had he gone from one of the lowest moments of his existence to this? To this glowing, warm, wonderful life? He kept expecting to wake up, to open his eyes and find himself all alone in his bed in rehab, in the upstairs room of Thom and Trish’s house, in his childhood home.
It’s not a dream , he told himself, closing his eyes so he could convince himself of it, so that when he opened them again, this life, this future, would still stretch out in front of him. You’ve earned this. You’ve fought for this. You deserve this.
“There’s no rush,” Jen went on, her voice a shade softer. “This is only for when you’re finished living at Little Timber. Only for when you’re ready. And, like I was saying, I can’t pay you much. But you can live here.” Turning away, taking the steps up to the front door, she said, “Rent free.” Realizing he wasn’t behind her. That he was, in fact, frozen in place, she said, “Are you coming?”
Forcing himself to thaw out, forcing his legs to move, he nodded. As he climbed the steps, each footfall echoed the words live here and rent free and full time . When she turned the key in the lock, it sounded like hope. When she turned the knob, it felt like purpose. When she pushed the door open, when he peeked inside, independence peeked back at him.
Jen flicked on the lights, illuminating the charming front room, and said, “I know this is a lot. You don’t need to give me an answer today. Look around. Take some time to think about it.”
The house was perfect. From the narrow plank hardwood spanning the floors to the bright living room, the two small bedrooms, the adjoining bathroom with creamy floral wallpaper and a clawfoot tub, the sweet little kitchen with a farmhouse sink and a big window overlooking River’s pasture. Perfect.
“I don’t need any time,” Kev said, his throat closing up tight. “I just…” He ground the heel of his palm into his chest, even though there was no hope of soothing the ache inside it. “I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it, Kev. And I saved the best part for last.” Sliding the kitchen window open, Jen placed her pinkies into the corners of her mouth and blew a sharp whistle .
Out in their pasture, River and Maggie whipped up their heads, dropped their haunches, and bolted toward them. While they ran, dust flying up from their hooves, something inside Kev broke wide open, some final wall around his heart crumbling until only rubble remained.
The pasture fence was so close to the kitchen window that River could lean over and stick her nose inside. Not Maggie. She was too short. But while River sniffed the windowsill, the sink’s faucet, Kev’s imagination spun out. He saw himself waking up early in the morning and making coffee for himself and Davis. Saw himself standing in front of this window while he fed River apple slices, making sure Maggie got some too. He pictured the plants he’d hang from the ceiling, set on the windowsills, the garden he’d grow in the backyard. He saw himself taking care of a house. Making it a home. Making it their home.
Maybe Jen noticed the emotion hunching his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped the edge of the sink until his knuckles turned white, the wobble in his chin, because she said, “I’m going to go check on the fence back here. Take all the time you need.” She rubbed his back, from one shoulder to the other and back again, then she turned around. He barely made it until the door snicked shut behind her before he fell the fuck apart.
While tears streamed down his cheeks, while a life he’d never dared to hope for himself fell at his feet, River snorted at him.
“I know,” he told her through a broken sob. “I’m just a lot more emotional than you are, okay?”
She snorted again, but this time there was no indignation in it. And then she placed her warm, velvety nose into his trembling outstretched hand.
On his way back to the barn, still in his head, still wading through dreams of a future he couldn’t believe might be his, he slowed when he noticed Bud’s side-by-side parked next to his truck. And Jen standing with her husband at the other end of the lot.
“Hey, Kev,” Bud said from the driver’s seat.
“Hey, Bud.” Pointing his chin in Jen’s direction, Kev asked, “Everything okay over there?”
Bud shrugged. “He’s not drunk right now. That’s all I know.”
The last thing Kev wanted to do was intrude, but considering how much of a shit show it was the last time Scott showed up, he needed to check in. “Thanks, Bud,” he said, then he started their way.
“Hey, there,” Scott said when Kev walked up. His brown eyes were sharp, his stubble darker and thicker since Kev had seen him last, the start of a beard covering his chiseled jaw. And somehow, his shoulders seemed even broader today, his chest even more expansive. “You’re Kev, right?”
Stepping up beside Jen, trying to present some sort of a united front, Kev said, “That’s me.”
Scott smiled at him, and Kev saw the magnetism in it, the confidence. The undeniable swagger. “Jen tells me I met you the last time I was here,” he said, more apologetic than embarrassed. Almost charming in an intimidating kind of way. Or maybe it was just that he was so huge. “It’s all a little blurry.”
“I’m sure it is,” Kev replied, coming off as much more judgmental than he had any right to be. But his protectiveness of Jen won out over his concerns about Scott’s feelings. “You look better today, though.” This was true. Today Scott was clear-eyed, well-dressed in Wranglers and a button-down. And Jen was so motionless beside him Kev was tempted to snap his fingers in front of her face to make sure Scott hadn’t hypnotized her.
Running a hand through his silvery-black hair, Scott said, “Jen also told me you’ll be helping out around the farm. And that River let you ride her. I’m impressed.”
“Um, I hope so,” Kev said, trying not to let the praise make blood rush to his cheeks. “And thanks.” Then he turned to Jen, giving her a look that asked, are you okay ?
When she nodded tightly, smiled even tighter, Kev said, “Good to see you again, Scott.” Giving Jen a parting look he hoped conveyed that he’d be right inside if she needed him, he walked back into the barn to load hay onto the little forklift for the morning.
Twenty minutes later, Kev heard the rumble of Bud’s side-by-side heading back up the road, and Jen walked numbly in through the barn door.
“Jen?” He took a step toward her.
Lifting her gaze, she said, “He’s…checking himself in to rehab.”
“Oh,” Kev said. “That’s good, right?” By the unnerving blankness of her expression, he wasn’t so sure.
“I…” She released a breath, not quite a laugh. “I mean, it’s great. It’s something I’ve been asking him to do for years. I just didn’t think he’d ever go.” She looked down at the ground again, at her boots, at nothing.
The light in the barn dimmed as the sun finally sank behind the western mountains, fingers of deep amber stretching across the dirt floor. “Are you okay?”
Raising her head, and with an almost unrecognizable uncertainty surfacing in her eyes, she said, “I don’t know. But I think so.”