Page 5 of Cowboy's Healing Heart

As I lie back on the thin mattress, staring at the wooden beams above, my thoughts wander to Krystal. Her absence at dinner nags at me, though I tell myself it shouldn’t matter. I’m not here to make friends or get involved. I’m here to escape, to find some peace away from the constant pressure of my family’s expectations.

But there’s something about her that intrigues me. The way she challenges me refuses to be intimidated. It’s been a long time since anyone’s treated me like just another person, not Shane Kennedy, heir to Innoventis.

I close my eyes, willing my mind to quiet. Tomorrow is another day, another chance to prove myself. To show Krystal and everyone else that I belong here and can hold my own.

Sleep comes slowly, and when it does, my dreams are a confusing mix of boardrooms and open fields, of Krystal’s fierce gaze and my father’s disapproving frown. Then, a gunshot rips me from the bed.

I blink, disoriented. The unfamiliar surroundings send a jolt of panic through me.

My heart hammers against my ribs, a trapped animal yearning to break free. Sweat forms on my brow, chilling me, and my palms clam up, trembling as I fight for composure, willing my breaths to even out.

I blink, forcing my eyes to focus on the room around me. The wooden beams above. The faded quilt on my narrow bed. My duffel bag, still unpacked, sitting at the foot.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.

The scent of pine and hay drifts through the open window. A gentle breeze stirs the curtains. Outside, I hear the distant lowing of cattle. The creak of a windmill. Normal sounds. Safe sounds.

My hands unclench. I flex my fingers, pressing them against my thighs.

On the nightstand, a battered alarm clock ticks steadily. It's 3:37 AM—nearly time to start the day. I focus on the rhythm, matching my breathing to its predictable beat.

My heart rate slows. The adrenaline fades, leaving me drained but present.

This isn’t a war zone. It’s a ranch in South Dakota. I’m here by choice. To heal. To find some peace.

I stretch my muscles tight from tension.

My gaze falls on the window. Beyond the glass, the sky is lightening. Dawn approaches, chasing away the shadows of night.

I move to the small desk, examining its scarred surface. How many others have sat here, fighting their own battles? There’s comfort in that thought. I’m not alone in this struggle.

The room is sparse and functional, as is mine. A space to breathe, to rebuild. To remember who I am beyond the soldier, beyond the life waiting for me back in New York, beyond the heir to Innoventis.

I grab my running shoes. The familiar routine of lacing them up settles me further. One step at a time. That’s all I need to focus on right now.

As I open the door, cool morning air rushes in. It promises a new day—new challenges, yes, but also new possibilities.

I step outside, leaving the lingering ghosts of my dream behind. They’ll be back, I know. But for now, I’m here. Present and accounted for. Ready to assume some sense of normalcy after twenty years of survival.

The gravel crunches under my feet as I start to jog. With each step, I feel more solid. More real. The ranch comes alive around me as the day’s work begins.

A flicker of movement catches my eye as I round the corner of the barn. I slow my pace, squinting at a figure sitting on theporch of a cabin, her back to me. Even from a distance, the curve of her shoulders and her relaxed posture look familiar.

It’s Krystal.

She hasn’t noticed me yet, focused on something in the distance. For a moment, I consider jogging past, but then she turns, her eyes widening as she spots me.

“You’re up early, Kennedy,” she says, her voice clear and relaxed.

I come to a stop at the edge of her porch, my breathing and heart rate settling. Krystal sits there with a cup of coffee, taking her time with the morning. There's an edge to her, but at this moment, she looks calm.

The ranch is quiet, allowing me a brief reprieve from the noise in my head. I watch her as she brings the cup to her lips, seemingly unfazed by the world. There’s something reassuring about her stillness.

I don’t know what to say, but I keep my gaze steady while taking in the scene. It’s just another morning, but it feels different. I don’t know why, but I don’t want to leave just yet.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I reply simply.

Krystal nods, a flicker of understanding passing across her face. “Yeah, I get that.”

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