Page 109 of Quiver

“Mimi?”

“No, Kylie.”

“Oh sure. We’ve gone over the plan for Saturday a hundred times.”

“And what about the plans for after Saturday?”

She shook her head. “After Saturday, my contract’s up.”

“So, she’ll just leave? Like she gets the part, and she goes right back to New York?”

“I haven’t asked, but last time Mimi showed up looking for Kylie, everything happened fast. I assume that part hasn’t changed.”

“What about the other parts?” Ava pushed.

“What do you mean?”

“Has anything else changed this time, or is the rest of it still the same as you let it be last time?”

The question hit her chest as sharply as the arrow that had pierced her side. A strange impulse tightened around her heart, the desire to defend herself or explain herself, to say she was different this time around, and it wasn’t some knee-jerk, self-preservation instinct. She’d been over it and over it in every quiet moment when Kylie fell asleep on her chest or when they passed in the hall, or hell, even in the shower. Everything felt different. She wasn’t scared or angry anymore, but there was an emptiness, an absence of the emotions that had driven and sustained her before. She was too sad to believe that constituted peace. Perhaps she’d given in to something like resignation, but she wasn’t sure she had it in her to say all that. Instead, she finally spoke a simpler truth. “I don’t want to be the thing that holds her back.”

Everything about Ava’s expression and body language softened. “Isn’t there some sort of middle ground?”

She smiled and shook her head. “For other people, probably. You found yours, but Kye and me, I don’t know if we’re middle ground kind of people. We’re all-in people. Obsessive-compulsive people. Cap-the-knees-of-anyone-who-gets-in-your-way kind of people. That’s why we work, and also why we don’t.”

Ava’s smile seemed as sad as Fletcher felt. “I wanted better for you this time around. For both of you.”

“Me too.” She forced some certainty into her voice. “And that’s what we’re trying to do here.”

Ava looked skeptical, but Fletcher wasn’t thinking about her as she remembered the way Kylie’s features had contorted when she’d said, I needed your calm, your steadiness, your faith in me, and you refused.

The pain of the statement still twisted her insides and kept her going when her darker impulses crawled up at the sight of Mimi coming to take her away again. “There’s no happy ending in the cards for us. I can’t conceive of a way we ride off into some mountain sunset. Maybe the best gift we can give each other is a better kind of goodbye.”

“It just feels like that’s a long way from where either of you want to be.”

She nodded, unable to argue. “Probably, but it’s still a long way from where we’ve come, and that’ll have to be enough.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Okay, okay,” Ava called over the din of people milling around in the barn. “It’s time for everyone to be in their places. If you’re in our first group, you need to be in the back of the arena by your horses. If you’re a competitor in one of our other groups, you should be in the stands until your division is called. If you aren’t a competitor, take your seat for the show.”

Kylie gave her a little nod of respect as everyone dispersed. Then she bumped Fletcher’s shoulder with her own. “Fine, I’ll admit it. She can be kind of useful at times.”

“What about your handler?” Fletcher asked. “Is she earning her keep?”

“Mimi?” She sighed. “I assume she’s glommed onto Talia and Sophia by now. I told her she couldn’t be back here.”

“I’m surprised she respected that boundary.”

“Also, I told her when horses sense nervous energy, they kick and bite.”

Fletcher laughed lightly. “Brilliant.”

The silence settled between them again as the last few stragglers wandered out. It had been happening all morning. They’d done such an admirable job of staying busy and upbeat or at least even-keeled. Last night they’d had a house full of people until they were ready to collapse and had still found the energy to make love, deeply, passionately without ever mentioning the looming deadline.

This morning, though, the quiet set in and grew heavy. It weighed down breakfast and morning chores to the point where Kylie almost welcomed the slow arrival of their friends and family. At least her brain had something to focus on other than the slow tick of the clock counting down.

Ava brushed past them with a smile. “Break a leg.”