Page 29 of Sunshine

He nods. “Okay.”

We take a few tentative steps toward the large field beyond the corral, eventually catching a rhythm in our stride. A few minutes of silence pass between us before I find the courage to break it. “I want to apologize,” I start, looking up at him.

He frowns. “Apologize?”

“Yes, about the other night. I . . . I didn’t carry myself well, and I was kind of a bitch to you.”

“Layla.” He stops walking, and I have to turn to look back at him. There’s a fierce determination set in his jaw that surprises me. “You, of all people, have nothing to apologize for.”

I shake my head, swallowing down a swell of nerves. “I’m not the only one who lost him.” It comes out as a whisper.

His head drops, and he stares at the ground for a handful of heartbeats. When he lifts his gaze to mine again, there’s emotion swimming in his eyes. “Can I show you something?”

My heart thumps in my throat where words are caught. All I can do is nod.

He tilts his head toward a new direction and I trail along beside him. The silence doesn’t feel as heavy as it did a moment ago, so I take the opportunity to look around the ranch as we move through it, taking it all in: the large white barn with painted black trim that looks a bit worse for wear; the three horses that graze in a second corral, all eyeing us curiously as we walk past; the way the land stretches so far in the distance I can’t make out the farthest point before it tangles with the incredibly blue sky.

Wells leads us toward the open pasture to the east of the house, and it’s then that I see her.

“Stardust,” I whisper, eyes wide in a burst of excitement that feels almost foreign to me at this point.

Wells lets out a soft breath of laughter and it’s almost rusty, like it might be his first attempt at a laugh in a long time. “There’s your girl, sunshine.”

She’s just as beautiful as I remember, grazing in the tall grass alongside a handful of other horses. “You still have her?” I can’t hide my shock—the Bennett ranch is a rescue ranch that takes in horses from all over the country, sometimes fromother failing ranches or even from wild herds. The Bennetts work to rehabilitate them before ultimately selling them off. Most go to ethical dude ranches in Texas or surrounding states, but some have also been sold to nonprofits that provide equestrian therapy to mental health facilities or schools.

Wells promised me a long time ago that they wouldn’t break Stardust—I saw the wild beauty in her eyes and couldn’t bear to think of her submitting to anybody—but I always assumed they’d have her transferred out of here to a more permanent home. Most horses don’t stay here long, save for the horses the Bennetts keep for personal use.

“Yeah.” He adjusts the backward hat on his head before crossing his arms over his chest. “Kasey and I worked to transition this pasture to accommodate some of the mustangs. They normally don’t come this close to the fence line . . . they like to stay out there in the hills.” He points toward the distance, to a more natural landscape of small shrubs and scattered oak trees. “But I saw them here this morning, and now I can’t help but think she knew you’d be here.”

I look up and see a sliver of that vulnerability back. It’s in the way his lips press together as he waits for my response. It knocks me off-balance—I’ve spent years making room for his bristling. This quiet eagerness is something new, and I can’t help but wonder if it was there all along. “How long ago?”

The divot between his brows deepens. “What?”

“How long ago did you and Kasey turn this into a pasture for her? And the others,” I add.

He wipes a hand over his mouth. “I don’t know. Shortly after I made you that promise. Kasey only helped me because I threatened to tell our mom about his secret rodeo circuit—noone understands why I want to keep them here. But I wanted to keep my promise, and this was the only way I knew how.”

My chest squeezes. “You did this for me?”

The brown of his eyes seems to come alive. “For Stardust,” he amends, but the truth is all over his face, and I don’t know what to make of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I’ve been here so many times over the years, even taken rides out through this very pasture with him and Jason, and he never said a thing.

He shrugs. “I wasn’t sure how to without making it a big deal.”

I have to look away before I give him too much. Stardust lifts her head in our direction before whinnying and whipping her tail. The four other horses around her pause their own grazing to look up at her. “Hey girl,” I say quietly, as if she can hear me through the wind from all the way over here. “You look so good. Are you happy?”

She simply stares back at me, and I wish she could respond. I wish I could read her mind and know if it was worth it to stay unchained, to escape any attempts the Bennetts might have made to break her. Or would extending her trust to them to be taken care of for the rest of her life have been a relief?

“She is,” Wells murmurs as he watches her too. And then I feel the weight of his eyes on me again. “I’m competing in a rodeo in Fort Worth in a few days if . . . if you want to come.”

I let the words sink in. “Don’t you have to get back to school? The season isn’t over.” I can’t imagine going back to NYU this soon, but I know how rigorous his football schedule is. Despite everything Wells is going through, I’m sure there’s an expectation about his return to the field—playoffsstart next week, only a week before Christmas. Even the holidays hardly stop the force that is college football.

He throws me an unreadable look before focusing back on the horses as his hands wrap around the wooden fence. “I’m not going back.”

What?“Like . . . ever?”

He shrugs. “I don’t see the point. My future is here, on the ranch with the horses. College feels like an unnecessary distraction.”

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