Page 19 of Total Jane Wreck

“Yes,” Marigold says. “I’d much rather hear how a young person like you came to read my books.”

“Well,” I reply, “my mom bought every single one of your novels, and I read them all one summer—I was permanently grounded for reasons I won’t go into.” Feeling myself blush, I laugh. “They were all so good, but Escape from the Springs is my favorite. It makes me believe anything is possible. It’s part of the reason I moved out here.”

A humble smile lights up Marigold’s face. “Thank you,” she says. “And please thank your mother for being such a loyal fan.”

“Will do,” I say. But part of me wonders if my family and I will ever be on speaking terms again.

“Axel Rose says you’re from Kentucky,” says Marigold, refilling her wine glass. “That you’ve been working wonders with the horses.” She turns the full beam of her attention on me. “You’ve got wonderful posture. I always say, you can tell a horse woman by the way she stands up straight with her shoulders back.”

“You’re very kind, but I stand like that because I’m so short. Always trying to add an inch or two!”

“Well, whatever the case, you should take a load off now, Jane.” Axel Rose pours me a glass of wine without asking if I want one.

But I do want one. Since there isn’t another chair, I sit down, cross-legged on the porch floor, and sip my wine. “So,” I ask, “what were you two chatting about before I came along?”

Marigold and Axel Rose give me the lowdown on all the Sugar Pine gossip. The conversation is warm and easy. I sink into it for a few minutes, letting the wine and the dusk and the faintest buzz of porch lights smooth my nerves.

But then my brain starts crackling again, refusing to stay on the porch, yanking me back to thoughts of Betty. The way she can read my mind, how she’ll nuzzle me, eyes soft and head bowed, whenever I’m grooming her. Or how, when we’re on a ride, she’ll read my cues before I even make them. For the last few years, my greatest moments of happiness and peace have been with Betty, ambling through a gentle Kentucky morning.

“Jane?” It’s Axel Rose, snapping her fingers. “Where’d you go just now?”

I blink, startled by how easily I’d time-traveled back to Kentucky in my mind. “Sorry. I had some troubling news today.”

Axel Rose’s gaze turns surgical. “You look like you’ve been chewed up and spit out. What’s going on?”

I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a weird, broken laugh. “You sure you want to hear? It’ll bring down the mood.”

“Please,” Marigold says. “We both thrive on other people’s drama. It’s the only way we can stop dissecting our own lives.”

So I tell them.

I tell them the whole thing, fast and breathy, like I’m galloping through the story before it can catch me. About how I earned the “Jane Wreck” nickname. How my family just barely tolerated me and the humiliation I caused them. How Jackson wanted to marry me, but that all blew up when I caught him with Melissa. About Betty, and my fear that Melissa will dig her claws into my heart horse. And that Reed might let her.

I run out of words and the silence that follows is long and heavy. Marigold crosses her arms, and Axel Rose leans forward, elbows braced on her knees. She speaks first. “What if you bought Betty yourself? Brought her out here to Resilience Ranch?”

I shake my head. “A horse like Betty could go for as much as $75,000.” My throat goes thick.

Marigold gives me a long, odd look, as if she’s appraising how much hurt I can survive before breaking. “What about your parents?” she asks. “Can’t you ask them to step in?”

“No. They’re still furious at me for abandoning them and the family business.”

“Okay,” Marigold states. “But how can they blame you for that? After they gave Reed part ownership of the stables and you got nothing?”

“Because they wasted a lot of money on jockey training for me.” I sigh. “I flaked out on that, and then I flaked out on becoming a large animal vet technician. Now they believe I’m too impulsive and temperamental. That I’d make a mess of things.”

Marigold’s mouth twists like she’s tasted something sour. “Didn’t Reed make a mess of things by marrying Melissa?”

“That’s one way of looking at it.” I stare at my hands, picking at my cuticles. “But that doesn’t change how I feel. Losing Betty would break my heart.”

Marigold looks off into the distance. “Oh, hon. Of course it would. But take it from one who knows—a broken heart is not the worst thing in the world. You’ll recover, and afterward you’re stronger for it.”

We’re quiet for a long moment, just letting the dusk descend. Then, a new sound rises. Shoes thunk against the hard wood. Chet stands in the open doorway, backlit by that big modern foyer.

The three of us snap to attention. Marigold nearly spills her wine. Axel Rose just lifts her chin in greeting, as if she’s not slightly tipsy.

“Pardon me, ladies.” Chet’s tone is formal, but there’s an edge of interest. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

He looks different tonight, in his navy T-shirt and joggers, hair still damp from his shower. His gaze lands on me for just a fraction too long. I look away, the only trick I know to keep from blushing.