“No problem. I’ll wait outside.”
When Carly answered her phone, the high school’s automated system kicked in, informing her of Ryder’s absence. She punched the end button before the message finished since she could recite it from memory. Where could he be this time? The last time he cut class, he’d come home smelling like a brewery.
Knowing Ryder wouldn’t answer her call or listen to her message, she texted him.“School called again. U know, that big red brick building where u should be. Where r u? And don’t ignore me. If u do I’ll call the police to help find u.”
She received his reply before she reached the door.“None of ur damn business where I am. Not a missing person so good luck with the cops.”
*
As Owen waitedoutside for Carly, he realized he’d pushed her too far, forcing the little kitten to reveal her claws.
He’d known better and had sensed her rising irritation over his questions, despite her attempts to hide it, but he couldn’t help himself. With his life out of control, his tendency to clamp down, and go all pack leader had taken over. How could she not get that? This was his life. How could she expect him to wait to see how this went without a timeline? Were they talking weeks or months for him to return to the Army? Maybe if he asked the question that way, she’d have understood better. Not only that but seeing her looking so fine, completely together, and self-confident had thrown him as fast and hard as a wild mustang. He’d come to Service because of her, and yet her seeing him this way, unsteady and confused, less than he’d been, affected him more than he’d expected.
Add in the storm and any hope he’d had to hold it together had vanished. The weather having cleared, and the tightness that had settled in his chest like a bad cold eased. Inhaling deeply, he filled his lungs with the familiar smells of home: hay, cow pastures, and pine trees.
When the door opened, the tight lines on Carly’s face, along with the anger flaring in her eyes, tugged at him. “Everything okay with Ryder? Has he landed in detention again?”
“How do you know about that?”
“The detention teachers make the kids write letters to deployed soldiers.”
“Then you’ve heard from Ryder a lot lately.” She flashed him a weak smile. One she used to convince someone things weren’t that bad. “Has he said what’s bothering him?”
“Nothing other than the standard teenage stuff. School is worthless. What’s the big deal if I cut a few classes? My sister is a major pain in the ass. All stuff I’m sure he’s said to you.”
She nodded. “That and how I’m not his parent so he doesn’t have to listen to me.”
Owen nodded as her pain reached out to him, burrowing under his skin. “I wouldn’t take what he said too seriously. If you’re not telling him what he wants to hear, or expecting him to follow rules, he’s gonna get pissed. He’s at the age where he thinks he knows everything, and adults don’t get it.”
“I understand all that, except he wasn’t this way six months ago. There’s so much anger in Ryder it scares me. He reminds me of Henry Ray Albright.”
She thought Ryder was heading down the same path as that guy? One day during their senior year, Henry Ray came home to find a note from his mom saying she’d left. After that he picked a fight with damn near everyone, blew off school, started drinking, using crystal meth, and failed to graduate. Word around town was he resided in Huntsville as guest of the state doing ten to fifteen for armed robbery.
“Sure, I sensed Ryder was angry, but it wasn’t anywhere near that bad. I doubt he’s on the road to Huntsville.”
“I wish I knew what’s going on with him. I keep thinking if I did, maybe I could get him to talk about it, and I could help.”
Owen resisted the urge to shuffle his feet as she stared at him. What could he tell her?
He couldn’t repeat the tamest of Ryder’s comments, that he considered spiking her tea to get her to loosen up. Even that would devastate Carly.
“Sorry, his letters didn’t say anything about what was upsetting him other than what I told you,” he replied truthfully.
They walked toward the barn, in silence for a couple minutes, before he said, “Except for a couple buildings, the old homestead hasn’t changed much.”
Air rushed out of Carly, the sound a combination between a scoff and a laugh. “I wish that were true, but unfortunately there’s been a lot of changes. But they only show up on property maps in the country clerk’s office.” She pointed to the right. “That land used to be ours.”
“Your father sold off all that?” He figured the area was over half the property her family owned when they were in high school. “I hadn’t heard finances got that tight for you.”
“My dad was a better bronc rider than he is a horse breeder, and he isn’t the money manager my mom was. Despite my handling the books, his solution with income and expenses deficits is to sell off land or at least it was until he ran out of land.”
Carly ran Horses for Heroes, managed her father’s ranch accounts, and acted as surrogate parent to a teenager? How did the woman have time for anything else?
“I’m sure my mother’s ancestors are rolling over in their graves. Thankfully my grandparents set up Horses for Heroes as a separate entity and donated the land the program resides on to the agency.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “We’ve been lucky the community has generously supported our work even when the economy struggled. That’s allowed us to continue making improvements.”
She explained how they’d renovated the barn, built separate space for occupational, speech and physical therapy. “Of course, that was accomplished when my predecessor was here.”
“What’s it like being the big boss now?”
