***
“So the skate just sliced straight through her glove,” Maya says, making a disgusted face as she walks a few steps ahead of us on the path to the stables. “Alex starts screaming, the medics rush in, and when they pull the glove off, her pinky’s basically hanging sideways by a strip of skin.” She wiggles her own pinky for emphasis. “You could actually see the bone. There was so much blood all over the ice.”
“Oh God, please stop,” Noah groans beside me.
He’s walking with both hands clamped firmly over his ears, staring straight ahead like he can escape the conversation by sheer force of will. I can’t help chuckling. My hand settles at the small of his back, guiding him over the uneven ground.
“Hands bleed like hell,” I say automatically. “They have an incredible blood supply.”
Daniel glances at me, curious rather than horrified. “Is that good or bad?”
“Both,” I say. “Great for healing. Terrible when something cuts them open like that.”
“Did they reattach it?” Daniel asks, turning to Maya.
“Yeah,” Maya says with a nod. “She lost some mobility, but it’s not too bad. Didn’t even miss the playoffs.”
“Can we please talk about literally anything else?” Noah says, finally dropping his hands. “I’m going to puke pancakes all over the place if you don’t stop.”
Maya giggles and shoots me a conspiratorial smirk. “Blood makes Noah queasy. He once fainted when he fell and cut his knee open.”
“I was seven,” Noah protests, glaring at his sister.
“You were fourteen,” Maya corrects immediately, clearly enjoying herself. “It was my fifteenth birthday, and we were at some all-you-can-eat ice cream festival in Oklahoma. After you came around, Mom kept feeding you ice cream so you wouldn’t faint again.”
“Shut up,” Noah says, though there’s no real heat in it. His face has gone slightly pink. “You’re afraid of clowns, Maya.”
“I am,” Maya says calmly. “I’m not ashamed of that. They’re creepy.”
“Everyone has something that gets to them,” I say, trying to defuse things and spare Noah a little embarrassment. “I’ve seen guys twice my size faint at the sight of blood. It’s pretty normal.”
I don’t mention that my personal nightmare weighs half a ton and bites. Which is unfortunate, considering where we’re headed.
Noah gives me a grateful look, his eyes softening in a way that catches me off guard. I quickly shift my attention back to the path ahead as we round a bend and the stables come into view—a long, low wooden building with paddocks stretching out behind it.
A weathered stable hand in a plaid shirt greets us with a nod as we approach. He has the leathery skin of someone who spends all day outdoors.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Caldwell,” he says to Daniel before looking the rest of us over. “These your folks?”
Daniel nods and reaches out to shake his hand. “That’s right. We’ll need horses for four.”
After a quick handshake, the man gestures for us to follow him inside. The smell hits me immediately—hay, manure, and leather—and with it comes a rush of unwanted memories. My pulse kicks up. My stomach knots as we step into the dim interior, where several large animals stand in their stalls, shifting their weight and watching us with intelligent eyes. I quickly look away.
“I’ll get you set up with boots and helmets,” the man says, leading us to a small room off to the side filled with equipment. “There are different sizes here, but let me know if you need anything else.”
Daniel and Maya go in first, get ready quickly, then step back out to give Noah and me some space. When we step into the small room, I feel anxiety begin to bubble up in my chest. God, I haven’t felt it in so long I was almost sure I was over the whole thing. But apparently the brain never really throws anything away.
As we try on boots, Noah drifts a little closer beside me, watching my face.
“You okay?” he asks quietly. “You look a little pale.”
“Fine,” I lie, focusing intently on tucking my jeans into the first boot.
“You mentioned you broke your arm falling off a horse,” he says, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “Was it serious?”
“Sort of.” I pause, picking up the second boot. “Compound fracture. Took a hell of a long time to heal.” I don’t add that I still remember the sound of the bone breaking, the blinding pain, the horse wheeling back toward me like it might trample me into the ground. “It’s fine. It was a long time ago.”
Noah’s eyes stay on me, seeing more than I want him to.
