Page 44 of SEAL of Valor

Fifty-seven.

We’re good to go.

“We’re good!” I call out. “Let’s get back!”

Reese nods, rainwater dripping from the bill of her hat.

Turning Bobbi, I start toward the edge of the pasture. After opening the gate so we can go through, I close and secure it behind Reese.

Lightning splits the sky again, and a deafening crack fills my ears. “Go!” I yell, but my voice is useless against the storm.

A tree slams down, hitting the ground right in front of us. Buttercup whinnies and rears back to avoid getting hit, and Reese is caught off guard. She flings backward, falling from Buttercup and hitting the ground.

It all happens in horrifying slow motion, but I’m already off of Bobbi and at her side before the next heartbeat. Mud soaks my jeans, but I barely note the cold. “What hurts?” I demand. I start to reach for her, then pull back.

“Is everything a good answer?” she asks. “Sorry, I think I landed on a rock. My hip is on fire.” She hisses when she tries to sit up.

“No, stay. I need to check you.” Reaching forward, I run my hands over the back of her head and neck, checking for anything out of place. Adrenaline and fear course through my veins as I move onto her arms and legs.

Please don’t be hurt. Please be okay.

“I’m fine, Weston. Just feeling a bit embarrassed.”

“The adrenaline could be masking an injury,” I tell her. “I’m going to try to get you up, okay?”

“Okay.”

Slowly, I pull her to her feet. She hisses in pain and nearly falls over, so I stabilize her and search for the horses. Both Bobbi and Buttercup are standing next to us, both animals wide-eyed and clearly at their limit.

Overhead, the storm picks up traction. Raindrops might as well be boulders for how hard they’re falling down on us. The mud is even worse, and just in the time we’ve been out here, it’s already begun to flood.

“We need to get back to my house. It’s closest. With any luck, that trail won’t have flooded yet.” I give her no room for argument as I scoop her into my arms and carry her over toward Bobbi.

Buttercup’s eyes are wide, her nostrils flared from the scare, so I don’t want to risk it. That, and Reese can’t ride alone.

I hoist her up sideways onto Bobbi’s back, trying to ignore how she’s hissing from the pain with every single movement. After securing Buttercup’s reins to Bobbi’s saddle, I slip my foot into the stirrup and swing a leg over, climbing on behind Reese.

As soon as she’s tucked against my chest, I urge Bobbi forward as quickly and as safely as possible. We move through the trees, and I’m grateful for the little bit of reprieve I have from the large raindrops before we emerge from the trees and onto the trail that will take us to my house. The pond is right up to the edge of the crossing, but it hasn’t quite crossed over the top just yet.

Reese is completely silent, her eyes shut tightly, teeth ground together. She’s hurting. I can only hope we won’t need to add an emergency room trip on top of this night, but I won’t be able to determine that until we’re out of the storm.

Chapter 13

Reese

By the time we reach the old barn outside of Weston’s cabin, there’s not an inch of me that isn’t in pain. It’s radiating up from my side, though, to be honest, I can’t even quite pinpoint whether or not my hip is the only thing that was hurt when I fell.

Then there’s the whole mortification thing, given I literally have ridden most of my life and landed on my butt my first time on a horse since I left town.

So, there’s that.

“Hang on,” Weston says as he stops in front of the barn, then climbs off. Moving quickly, he rushes forward to open the doors. Wind tugs at him every step of the way, and I can see the struggle on his face, but finally, he gets the doors open enough for us to go through.

I hold the reins with one hand and click my tongue. “Forward,” I tell Bobbi. He waits for no other instruction before heading into the dark barn.

Weston closes the doors behind us, plunging us into darkness.

Bobbi whinnies.