“We should get going.” Octavia’s stern voice cut through the conversation. “The sun’ll be going down soon, and I don’t want to leave Wilson here alone when it does.”
“I’ll hang back with him,” December offered. “It’ll give me time to do my assessment. Maybe pick up some things these two may have missed.”
I smiled when she wiggled her brow at me. “Sure, have at it.”
“Looks like you’ll get a ride into the sunset and a town,” Nico teased. “Dreams really come true…with icing on the cake, too.”
My smile fell when he looked between Octavia and me. I tried to jab my elbow into his side, but he was too fast.
“See you in town,” he said before piling into the RV behind Jonah. Esther climbed into her white pickup. Engines roared as they pulled out of the yard, kicking up a cloud of dust in their wake.
Octavia didn’t say anything as she watched me watch Frog. Blood rushed down to my toes, leaving my skin with no protection against the wind.
One of my tricks to keep calm during high-anxiety moments was running through my top five near-death experiences. If I could survive nearly being dragged to hell, I could conquer mounting a horse.
“Need a hand?” Octavia raised a questioning brow.
“All good. I’m typically a natural at these sorts of things.” I flashed her a sweet smile before moving to Frog’s saddle. Octavia’s lips twitched, but she turned away so I couldn’t see if it turned into a smile or grimace.
Frog swayed his head over to see what I was doing in his personal space. I froze. It only took him a second to realize I was going for his saddle and not doing something suspect.
I grabbed the handle and slipped my foot into the stirrup. My first mounting attempt made my head spin. Frog was wider than he looked. And swinging my bad ankle over him was a far more athletic feat than expected.
On my second attempt, my chest crashed into the saddle. The force had to have left an instant bruise. A problem for later. I peeled myself away from the leather, rejoicing because I was on top of the horse. Air filled my lungs, once more willing to supply oxygen to my brain.
“I’m on!” I wore a wide, triumphant smile.
“You’re on.” Octavia’s smile didn’t match my brightness, but her eyes danced with amusement that was better than a thousand smiles.
Our celebratory mood faded when Frog neighed andbegan moving his legs up and down as if he were anxiously waiting for his turn at the restroom.
“Hey, hey.” Octavia clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth and guided Kat closer, so they were within arm’s reach.
My fingers curled into Frog’s mane, clinging on tight as he moved. The reins swayed in front of him, too far for me to grab hold. “What do I do?”
Octavia didn’t answer as she murmured words of comfort to Frog. She retrieved his reins, and he let her without protest.
“Relax, I’ve got you,” she whispered.
The tension in my shoulders unraveled. The last time I’d heard such determined protectiveness was when I was a kid still counting on my parents to kill all the world’s monsters. There’d been nothing quite like that pocket in time where Mom and Dad could solve everything. Where they knew everything about the world and me. I didn’t have to be someone because I was theirs and that’d been enough. Life had been safe enough.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
When I looked up, I found 1,000 percent of Octavia’s attention on Frog. I wished to fade into obscurity as she soothed the intended recipient of her empathy. I thanked whoever would listen that mind reading was still in the realm of myth and legend.
Frog wouldn’t stop yanking his head up and stomping his hooves. My grip on him tightened with every jerk of his body.
“You’ll have to dismount.” Octavia swung off Kat in one clean motion. She stood in front of Frog, holding him steady for me. “He’s not feeling it. When he’s like this, he won’t warm up anytime soon. You can ride Kat instead.”
“Fair enough.” I respected a horse’s right not to cart around a stranger. The way Frog continued to shift indicated he wished I would respect that right a little faster.
I swung my leg over, attempting to match the example Octavia gifted. But instead of an easy touchdown back to earth, my foot tangled in the stirrup. Before I could accept my impending doom, Octavia rushed to my side. My momentum nearly knocked us over, but the woman was strong. Sturdy.
“Rae?” She’d grabbed my waist, pulling me into her chest. Our bodies aligned, chest to chest, hip to hip, breaths intermingled. I panted; my mouth parted with the desire to say something. Nothing came to mind. My brain fog returned, but it was far gentler than the one upstairs. Instead of a headache, my thoughts floated just out of reach. Not taunting, not frustrating, just hovering patiently in a blissful in-between state, allowing me a much-needed hiatus from worry.
“Are you okay?” Her brows pulled down, revealing creases that lingered long after she stopped frowning. Octavia had a prologue of wrinkles in every corner of her face, echoes of expression. There must have once been a time when she laughed so deeply her cheeks ached. The hints of years and joy on her skin made her so beautiful I could barely process. Her face was lightly scarred and soft with traces of stories.
“May have fractured my spine,” I whispered.
