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“After Molly’s death, I had no problem riding… I just couldn’t go into the show ring. It’s all about control in there, and I was one of the best. Molly was damn good, and it happened to her. I just… lost it. Lost every bit of passion and zeal for competition. I was done, and my family couldn’t understand it.”
“They couldn’t get why you didn’t want to show anymore?” There’s disdain in his tone.
“Kat got it, but she always gets me. And I think Wade understood since we were closer. But it was pretty much expected for me to keep going. Lunar was too good a horse, and I was too good a rider. Lunar’s sire would increase in value with another championship, so I was losing money for the farm.”
Kellen utters disapproval low in his throat. “That’s a lot of pressure.”
I pull back from him so I can look him in the eye. “See… that’s just it. I’m used to pressure. I thrive under pressure. It’s why I was a good student and why I’m a good vet. But I think, more than anything, I felt let down by my family when they couldn’t understand that I just didn’t want to do it anymore. I was broken, and they wanted me to hurry up and fix myself. When I couldn’t, it was heavy disappointment. It all felt so smothering, and the walls closed in and…”
“And you decided to leave and not look back,” he concludes softly.
“It makes me a horrible daughter.”
“It makes you brave and resilient.” Kellen puts a hand behind my neck and locks his eyes with mine. “Let me ask you something.”
“What?”
“Do you miss showing? Do you miss the rush of competition? Do you miss winning blue ribbons and working as a team with Lunar?”
I reach deep inside because my first inclination is to say I don’t.
But I do.
“Yeah… it was such an integral part of my life, and I loved it right up until that moment when Molly died.”
“Hear me out.” Kellen’s attentive survey of my face holds me captive, as if he has all the answers in the world. “Forget about family not supporting you and the need to move away. Forget your fears. A lot of time has passed since Molly died. You’ve changed. You’ve grown. You’ve established your identity away from the farm, and you’ve accomplished so much. Maybe you could have another shot in the ring, if you wanted it.”
I shake my head, ready to deny. “I’m out of shape, out of practice. Lunar’s too old—”
“Excuses,” Kellen says. “Are they legitimate excuses?”
My frown deepens. “What do you mean?”
“You were legitimately afraid after Molly’s fall. You were pushed away—maybe unintentionally—by your family, but that hurt compounded the fear. I can see why you left it all behind. But then… well, you settled into a new life. You became a new version of Abby Blackburn. Maybe that Abby could compete again if she wanted. You might have been fearful, but you never lost your love of the sport.”
As his words penetrate, I realize I’ve never really considered going back into the ring. When I left that life behind, I thought it was all or nothing.
Maybe it’s not.
“I can see your brain spinning.” Kellen chuckles and leans in to kiss me. “Don’t burn it out, though. You can ponder that, but we have a few other things to talk about.”
“Okay,” I say on a long exhale, my lips tingling from his kiss.
“You have to promise me you’re done with Levi Hellman.”
I study Kellen’s expression, note the hard determination in his eyes. It’s wasted on me. “I promise. It spiraled so far out of control, and I never intended for that to happen. I feel awful—”
Kellen kisses me again. When he draws back, he presses a finger to my lips. “No more with the self-castigation. You’re sorry. I get it. People make mistakes. Let’s move on. Okay?”
His finger still at my mouth, I nod, and his hand falls away.
“I’ve got some people at Jameson investigating Hellman.” My chin jerks inward, surprised Kellen would move against Hellman when he told me to back off. “That guy is dirty in some way. Call it a gut instinct, or call it hope, but if we can’t shut down the puppy mill, maybe we can shut Hellman down in other ways.”
My eyes widen and my heart thrums with possibility. “Like what?”
“I have no clue,” he admits. “But if there’s something dirty, Bebe will find it.”
“Bebe?” A woman’s name, Kellen’s admiration evident in his tone. It flares a kernel of jealousy.
“She’s a hacker who works for our company. Her soon-to-be husband is an FBI agent and…”
I tune him out as relief flushes through me that Bebe isn’t a potential love interest. That green fit of emotion was totally unexpected, but it tells me I’m viewing Kellen as mine.
