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Mack just shook his head. “He’s gonna do it.”
“He wouldn’t—”
Liam kicked at her flank.
Oh, Calla winced. Mistress leapt forward into the stream. Leaving Liam behind. He popped right off the back of her rump. And landed hard on his.
Ow.
“Wild-eyed bitch threw me!” Liam jumped back to his feet, holding his backside.
“Calla and Xavier have both told you a hundred times not to kick her flank,” Mack called out across the stream.
Liam looked around like he was searching for the voice. When he finally located Mack, he flipped him off.
Calla groaned. “Xavier’s gonna be so proud of how we’re representing him today.” She shook her head and turned Painter toward the finish line as more and more riders rode past. Her shoulders shrank.
People from the group that had started ten minutes after theirs were passing them now. So much for showing she was a contender. Calla was pretty sure she, Mack and Liam would be coming in last place.
Her future had never been less secure. She thought about her leg tremor. If she had a future at all.
Still, as Liam and Mistress came up and she saw the goofy grin on Liam’s face, her heart clenched with emotion for him.
It was like this every time she felt any moment of happiness or joy. There was always the accompanying terror. It was always there. Whispering this was the best she’d have it and soon it’d all be gone.
Enough.
Calla clicked her teeth to get Painter moving as Mack and Liam started bickering about who did better in each obstacle. She looked back and forth from one man to another.
She was terrified of all the things she wanted with them. Of all the things that might never be. Enough. She was done living her life in the shadow of fear.
It was time to know.
It was time to get the test done.
23
CALLA
“I want to get the test. For Huntington’s.” Calla sat up straighter on the exam table at the doctor’s office. Here she was. Taking the future by the balls. Or, well, at least being willing to own up to it, whatever it might hold. Other than a brief freak-out in the car—Mel let her borrow her little Camry whenever she needed to come into town—she was even managing to keep her shit together.
She fidgeted with her balled fists. Mostly anyway.
“Are you sure?” Dr. Nunez was a middle-aged woman whose hair was only going a little gray at the temple.
Calla nodded. “My employer gives us good insurance so the test would be covered.”
Dr. Nunez’s eyes gentled. “You know it’s not paying for it that concerns me. I’ve referred you to a genetic counselor before. Did you ever go see them?”
Calla shook her head. “Didn’t seem much point if I couldn’t pay for it.” If she was honest, Calla would admit she’d just taken that as an out not to learn if she was positive or negative for HD. If she had the mutated gene that would determine the course of the rest of her life. “Anyway, I’m ready now.” She straightened her back. “I won’t be changing my mind. It’s time to know.”
Dr. Nunez was quiet another moment before finally nodding. “I’ll refer you to the genetic testing facility in Casper.”
Calla swallowed and nodded. “Good.” Then, eager to change the subject, she asked, “So how’s Savannah doing with her mustang? Savannah’s what, fifteen, sixteen?” There was a junior’s category in the makeover and Calla knew Dr. Nunez’s daughter was competing.
Dr. Nunez smiled. “She’s sixteen. And the summer has been so exciting for her to get hands on experience training a horse. It’s given her something else to do than just watch TV and chase boys.”
Calla smiled and Dr. Nunez put her hand on Calla’s shoulder. “All right, while I work on the referral I’ll have the nurse come in and take some blood. You haven’t been in a few years and I’d like to do a complete physical.”
