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“Sure. Thanks,” Grayson said.
“See you tomorrow.” Beth grabbed the wheelbarrow and shoveled fresh shavings into it.
Lena packed up her vet kit and headed out to her truck while Grayson grabbed Remington from the pasture.
Beth had already spread the shavings in the stall facing Tally’s by the time he returned. The gelding didn’t complain about having his own stall. He went straight to the flakes of hay Beth had also dropped in.
She walked back to Tally’s stall. “She has to be okay,” Beth said. “Look at her—she looks like she’s been used, abused, and abandoned. Scars and fear and old saddle sores.” She swallowed. Blinked. “And now this. She doesn’t even want to let me pet her.” She closed her eyes. “I just want to let her know it’ll be okay. That we’ll take care of her.”
Oh man. He got it. Because as much as he saw a bit of himself in Tally with her standoffish attitude, Beth had to see so much more of herself.
He didn’t know how a mother left her children any more than he knew how a loving God turned His back on the prayers of a child.
Beth swiped the back of her hand across her eyes.
And shoot, he just wanted to reach out and hug her. Comfort her. “We’ll do everything we can.”
We, again. Because somehow, they were in this together.
She nodded but didn’t move.
He rubbed his chest. After everything they’d been through this afternoon, he’d forgotten the strain that had hung between them.
“I’m sorry, Beth.”
She looked up at him. Blinked.
“For calling you Bookworm Bethy when we were kids. For the night of the pit party.” He leaned against the stall wall. “I was trying to do the right thing that night, and I totally botched it.”
A warm breeze swept through the barn aisle, sending loose hay tumbling past them.
The silence was filled only by the birds outside and the horses moving around their stalls, chewing their hay.
He shifted, opened and closed his fists, then met her eyes. “Are you going to say something?”
“I…I don’t remember much about that night.” She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t intend to drink alcohol—I know that sounds stupid, because what else do kids go to those parties for, right? I should have guessed the drinks were spiked.”
He lifted a shoulder. He wasn’t one to judge. “I’d gone looking for Oliver.” He’d expected to find his brother drunk, not Beth. His brother who’d decided coping was found at the bottom of a bottle. Grayson had lost his mind a little bit when he’d seen Beth dancing on the car.
Okay, a lot. He’d totally freaked and hauled her to his truck despite her protests.
“I could have handled it better too. I was just so embarrassed.” She toed the floor with her hiking boot. “First”—she held out a hand—“don’t take this wrong, but I had a little crush on you—which was totally stupid, but I did.”
“Wait—why was that stupid?”
Beth shook her head. “Stop.” She huffed out a breath. “When I…” She let out a groan. “When I kissed you, and then you kissed me, for that moment I felt…I don’t know. Seen. Special. I was drunk and it was dumb. And then you rejected me.”
Ouch. He closed his eyes and lowered his head. “You were special—you are special.”
“I don’t need a sympathy vote.”
He looked back up. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, Beth. You were drunk and you weren’t in control of yourself. It was wrong. I just wanted to get you home safely.” He kneaded the tight muscles of his neck. “There were guys at that party who could have taken advantage of you.” Unfortunately, he’d made himself look like one of them.
“I get that now,” she said, her words soft and distant. “But at school that Monday, everyone was talking about it. Rumors were all over the place about how you’d dragged me off to your truck.” Her face flushed. “What we’d supposedly done. And all I could think about was how I was not only rejected but my reputation was trashed.” She ran her hand along the top rail of the stall door.
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m sorry.”
“I held on to that rejection and bitterness for a long time. After that, I barely saw you. Then your graduation—and you were gone.”
