Page 62 of Peaches & Pistols

I shake out my rigid hands, take a deep breath, and slide open the massive sliding door to the stables. Earthy hay and manure fill my nose, but it’s not an unpleasant scent. Soft snorts, and the dim clopping of hooves reverberate through the massive space.

My eyes can’t take it all in fast enough. A row of stalls line one side of the stables, nearly all are filled. The aisle down the middle is wide open, free of mess and immaculately cared for.

The other side is stocked with what I can only imagine is every piece of equipment a person could possibly need to be an equestrian.

“I thought I heard someone.” The chipper voice startles me, my hand flying to my chest.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I try to walk softly when I work with the horses.” Delilah’s smile is warm, no indication my presence is unwanted.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for coming unannounced.”

She waves her delicate hand back and forth, as if to say, “no need to apologize.”

“What brings you by this morning? You’re always welcome, of course.” She chuckles.

“One of my New Years resolutions is to do some healing, and I’d like to take you up on your offer to try equine-assisted learning.”

She claps rapidly but softly, as to not scare the horses.

“That’s wonderful! Right now, I host a trust-building group which we see a lot of veterans and people with post-traumatic stress. My women’s group works with the horses to process trauma, re-build trust, and grow empowerment and self-awareness.

“I’m working toward starting a grief support group, and my mentor hosts her at-risk youth program here. We get school groups of all ages, corporate team building—it’s grown past our wildest goals over the past nine months.”

Her pride shines through like sunbeams through the clouds. I’ve only admitted to Greyson my full reasons for moving to Swiftwater, but I’ve come to trust the Lucky Spurs Ranch family and I’m ready to accept help.

“I think the women’s group might be the best fit. I…have some trauma I need to work through.” I cringe, waiting for her pity, judgment or curiosity—but none come.

Instead, Delilah’s gentle acceptance falls over me like a warm blanket. She smiles softly, her eyes twinkling.

“You just missed our January session, but I’ll get you signed up for February right away.”

“That’d be great. Just let me know the when’s and where’s, and how much I owe you and I’ll be here,” I say, buoyant with hope.

“You don’t owe me a thing, Miss Mia.” Delilah winks.

“But—”

“It’s not up for discussion. Family’s always free.” The finality of her statement rocks my foundation.

Her implication is loud and clear. Another example of the truth slapping me in my distrustful face. The Andersens have adopted me and Everly into their family and it’s okay for me to accept that.

“Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.” Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and my throat’s too tight.

“If you have time, Izzy and I are planning on grabbing lunch at The Flying Pig today. We’d love it if you joined us.”

I’ve never been invited to do girl-stuff before. The attention-starved child in me is vibrating with excitement. But I’ve been staying home for lunch to eat with Greyson, and I don’t want to miss my time with him…

“I’d like that.” I hope my smile conveys my deep appreciation for her kindness. “Will Livy be there?”

Delilah shakes her head. “No, her job has regular business hours but she’s a workaholic and rarely comes out for lunch during the workweek.”

“That’s okay, I was just curious. You three are like the Powerpuff Girls or something, I assumed she’d come.”

“Oh my god, I love that! Ooo, who would each of us be? I get to choose first!” she exclaims to no one in particular, having a conversation in her head.

“I get to be Bubbles—animal lover, sweet, sees the best in everyone,” she declares.

“I can see it. Yep. You’re definitely Bubbles,” I affirm.