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“From what I’ve seen on their website, I believe so.”
“Can I learn to ride a horse?” The excitement in her voice brings a wide grin to my face. Rylee is all the therapy I need at this time. Her heart is so big, and I know Anna-Beth would be so proud of her and how she has handled everything this past year.
My stomach twists as a small bout of anxiety creeps in. These are things I’m going to let her do. Anna-Beth and I agreed a long time ago that we wouldn’t stop our kids from trying new things by instilling fear in them. They have every right to dream big just like we did.
“We’ll find you the best teacher who’ll help you. How does that sound?”
“Thanks, Daddy.” She wriggles off my lap and takes off out the door. I lean over and drop my face into my hands, my elbows digging into my knees. This is hard. Here I thought racing was a challenge—it’s nothing compared to caring for a newborn and a five-year-old tween. Give me a race car any day.
“Oh, Anna-Beth, I wish you were here and taking this holiday with us.” It’s become a thing lately where I sometimes talk to her, especially in moments like these when I wish so much that she was here. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to move on. How does someone recover from such a big loss? “We miss you. I miss you.”
MY ALARM GOES OFF, BUTI’ve been lying in bed awake for the past hour, in the darkness, listening to the creatures of the night. After storming off to my room last night, I rang Isla, gave her the lowdown on what happened, and told her to keep Olive there for an extra day while things hopefully settle down a bit more. When the house was quiet, I went down and grabbed a handful of cookies and sat up chatting with Isla for a while. She deserved an earful for lying to me, but I’m also glad she did.
Her question replays in my mind.“Why not tell them about Eli and everything that happened?”
I can’t tell them—not yet.
I don’t want them to be nice to me because they feel sorry for me. I don’t want their sympathy. I want them to accept me, accept Olive, and when the time is right, I’ll tell them what happened. I have the weight of the world resting on my shoulders, and it’s slowly becoming too much.
After sitting up, I move to the side of my double bed. My feet touch the soft carpet. I rub the sleep from my eyes and then get up to flick the light on. Getting out of bed in the morning isn’t an issue for me anymore since having Olive. She kept me up most of the time through the night when she was younger. Thankfully, she’s getting better and it won’t last forever.
Going to my suitcase on the floor, I pull out a pair of dark blue skinny-leg jeans, a black top, and a long-sleeve button-up shirt like the one I used to wear around the ranch. It may be a little cool first thing in the morning, but as the day progresses and we work in the sun, it heats up pretty quickly. I imagine that I’ll be busy after the morning with the horses if we manage to get any.
Going to another of my many bags, I take out my boots. They’re well worn, even to the point where the shoe’s main body and sole are separated in some places. I couldn’t throw them out, though—these are the shoes Mom bought me before she passed away. Thankfully, my feet are the one thing that hasn’t changed size in the last three years. I slip them on, tie the laces, and make my way to the kitchen where a light is shining. Harley must already be waiting for me.
Entering the kitchen, I stop. Dad sits at the table, sipping on a steaming cup of coffee. He glances up and just stares.
I blink and then say, “Morning.” I try not to come across as too happy, but I’m glad he’s down here.
He mumbles, “Morning.” There’s silence once again before he says, “There’s coffee.” Then he goes back to whatever it is he’s looking at on his laptop open in front of him.
“Thanks.” I busy myself making my strong black coffee with some sugar.
“Will Eli be gracing us with his presence?” Dad’s question isn’t malicious—it sounds as though he’s genuinely interested.
My mug freezes before my mouth, a lump forming in my throat. “Um… no. He…”
Before I can finish my sentence, Harley steps into the kitchen. “Hey, Dee. Morning, Dad. Any of that left?” He nods at my mug.
“Uh, yeah.”
“You might want to put it in a travel mug because we’re about to leave.” Harley opens a cupboard and produces two reusable travel mugs, placing one on the counter near me.
I take a small sip and then tip the rest into the cup. “Dad, is there a chance for us to talk today? There’s something I need to tell you.” It’s as though my throat is partly closed because the words come out breathy. My pounding heart doesn’t help matters.
Without looking up, he says, “I don’t know. I’ve got a lot on today, and apparently, so do you.” His response is dry and emotionless.
“I understand, but Ineedto talk to you.”
Harley leans against the counter and watches the exchange. I want Dad to be the first to know everything—not for sympathy, but so he is aware. He’s my dad, after all, and once upon a time, I was his girl. Now I’m simply the stranger in his home, and he won’t even give me the time of day.
“Maybe later.” He rises, shuts his laptop, and walks away. He pauses in the doorway and turns back. “If you’re planning to stick around, look for some horses that would be good to train and sell. Like you started doing before you took off.”
I bite back what I really want to say and simply nod. I don’t want to get into it with him this early in the morning. Heck, I haven’t even finished my coffee. The time will eventually be right.
The front door clicks shut.
“Well, at least there wasn’t yelling, and he acknowledged you,” Harley says, a hopeful smile on his face.
