Page 196 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

His brows drew together. “Pretty much since I met you.”

I stared at him.

“You never ask about it.”

“I figured you’d tell me if I needed to know.”

Every excuse I’d spent the last forty minutes constructing collapsed at once. I looked toward Blueberry’s stall, looking to her for strength.

“I need to tell you something.”

Beau’s expression changed immediately. “Okay.”

“Can we go inside?”

He followed me without another question.

The barn smelled like hay, leather, and horses, familiar enough that some of the tension left my shoulders when we stepped inside. Blueberry leaned over her stall door when she heard us, and I stopped to rub the white marking between her eyes.

The one creature who had survived that night with me was standing ten feet away.

Beau leaned against the tack room doorway while I lowered myself onto the old wooden bench inside.

“I don’t really know how to say this.” I stared at my hands. “You know about the accident.”

“Some of it.”

“You watched the videos of me racing.”

His jaw tightened slightly. “Yeah.”

“I was supposed to go to Tennessee that weekend. I thought if I did well enough, I’d make the finals, and after that I was going to start seriously looking at going pro.”

Talking about it still hurt, but the pain was different now.

“A drunk driver hit me a few hours outside Willow Creek. I remember trying to stop. I remember Blueberry screaming in the trailer, and then everything started spinning.” I rubbed my palms over my jeans. “My truck rolled. My left leg got trapped.”

Beau didn’t move. Didn’t blink. I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing.

“I woke up in the hospital after surgery. Pops and Meme were there, and I knew something was wrong before anybody said anything.”

My throat tightened around the memory, and I cleared my throat.

Beau’s eyes stayed on mine.

“Then they told me they couldn’t save my leg.” The barn became painfully quiet. “My left leg was amputated above the knee.” I waited, watching his navy eyes as they dropped to my jeans and back to my face. So much pain lingered in their depths.

I could’ve stopped there. Maybe I should have. But I needed to get this part over.

“I need you to see it.”

His brow furrowed. “Carson, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“I’m not.” I swallowed. “I need you to see me.”

Understanding softened his face. “Are you sure?”

No one had ever asked me that before. I nodded, and took a deep breath.