His words illuminated a truth that I’d always known but never dared to speak out loud. Agreeing to move to Chicago with Zane was the first time I got even remotely close to leaving, and even then, I was hesitant.
“And who says what you did was easy? You gave up a child because you knew, even at seventeen, that you couldn’t provide the life that child needed to succeed. You allowed them to find a better life even if that meant breaking your own heart.”
“But—” I started.
“But nothing,” he said, cutting me off as he threw a saddle over his shoulder. “You are no less of a person because of the decision you made. In fact, I find you to be one of the bravest humans I know. Your decision has given you the ability to see things a little differently—hell, you might even bring a fresh perspective to finding Ruby’s parents, find a way to be of some help to Stetson.” He huffed, grabbing the rest of the stuff I needed from the tack room. “But I do think you need tell him. You and I both know what he’s probably thinking now that he knows you put a baby up for adoption around the same time Ruby was adopted, andScarlett, he deserves the truth, even if it’s not what he wants to hear.”
George was right, but the thought of having to break his heart even more made my stomach churn.
“And don’t ever for a second doubt yourself or who you are as a person. You, Scarlett, are worthy of love and happiness just like everyone else, but until you allow yourself to believe that, you’re going to be the one getting in your own way.”
“But how do I allow myself to leave it in the past and keep going?” I asked, eager for him to tell me.
“I didn’t say for you to leave it in the past. Something as big as this doesn’t simply get left in the past; it gets brought with you, every hour of every day, stuck to you like bonfire smoke. But instead of letting it consume you, eating you alive until you’ve got nothing left, you should let it define you, shape you into the person you want to be, the reason you do the things you do, and the driving force behind the person you want to be. You made a choice—a tough one, no doubt—but that choice only shows the kind of person you are. And maybe one day you’ll have the chance to look your child in the eyes and tell them the reason behind what you did. I can bet they’ll understand. Maybe not at first, but eventually they would come to see you for the person I know and love and it would all make sense to them.”
I swiped a rolling tear off my cheek.
I didn’t know what it was about George, but he had the ability to make everything seem a little less scary. His words forced you to look at a situation differently, until you were less overwhelmed and far calmer. He helped you to see things from a very matter-of-fact perspective—something I’d always been grateful for.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, George.”
“Good thing, because you ain’t gettin’ rid of me,” he joked.
“But really, thank you. For listening. For making me feel better. For never judging me. And for always being my voice of reason.”
“Of course, darlin’. Life wouldn’t be worth livin’ if it was all rainbows and butterflies,” he said. “Speaking of, have you heard from Stetson at all?”
“Yeah, he’s called a few times, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to answer,” I replied quietly as I looked away.
A few timeswas putting it lightly. He’d called and texted every day, multiple times a day, but I’d never answered. I couldn’t bring myself to hear his voice, fearing the disappointment in it would break my heart even more.
He subtly bobbed his head up and down. “Why don’t you go get some fresh air, clear your head. I’ll be around if you need me.”
“Okay,” I said, starting in the direction of the stables. My feet stopped and I rushed back to George, pushing my whole body into his. “Thank you, George. You’re the best.”
“Don’t you forget it,” he said, squeezing me back.
I nodded my head in agreement against his chest.
Valhalla slowed, finding himself distracted by something in the field.
His pause made me take in the space around me. The sun was emerging in the east, beaming light across the entire farm. The scent of fresh, wet nature danced under my nose and the warmth laced in the breeze promised a nice day ahead.
When everything was unstable, Rolling Meadows wasn’t.
“Come on, boy,” I said, leaning down, getting closer to his face.
He refocused, picking up his pace as he trotted through the tall, dewy grass. April was here, which meant spring had officially arrived in Quincey Falls—and thankfully so, because it was the only thing that forced me outside today.
The morning was exceptionally peaceful despite the dust storm of shit swirling around my head. Valhalla and I made our way to our favorite spot between the trees. The rush of the waterfall came into earshot, immediately alleviating some of the anxieties I’d been carrying since I left Nashville.
“Woah… woah,” I said, tightening the reins. Valhalla slowed before coming to a complete stop, allowing me to slide off his back and onto the ground. The stability of the earth beneath my feet allowed me to take a few deep breaths, the kind that reached way down deep into your chest and severed the string of concern.
A pop of orange caught my attention.
The same orange that appeared every April, the orange that I’d found solace in so many times before. A couple dozen poppies huddled together in the corner by the base of the waterfall.
I took a seat on a large rock near the edge of the water. George’s words had replayed over and over in my head since I left the barn. I believed what he’d said, I really did, but part of me still struggled with the guilt of the whole situation and the looming fear of what Stetson would think of me. Not to mention, the worst part of it all was that I wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
