Page 8 of Beautiful Exile

Sweat already threatened to gather at the small of my back from the combination of the August heat and the thought of mucking outthe stalls. If I was smart, I’d start earlier, when it was more civilized. But a morning person, I was not. Because when sleep did manage to find me, I held on to it with everything I had.

My girls greeted me with snorts and whinnies as I entered the barn. They were already waiting at their stall doors. They knew the drill. The routine was a balm to all of us, and I was grateful that I’d managed to find two mares who didn’t begrudge my later start times.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said as I ducked into the tack room that also housed their feed. Filling a bucket, I headed back out and down the aisle.

I stopped at the first stall, bending to press my forehead to the dappled gray’s. Her coat was like a scattering of light and shadow. Some days, it looked like the light would win, and others, the shadow. It was the same sort of battle I felt warring inside me. I stayed there for a moment, soaking in the contact and the grounding sensation it gave me. Stardust stayed, too, as if she sensed I needed extra today.

Finally, I forced myself to straighten and poured half the grain into her bucket. I moved on to the buckskin. She was all tan body and dark mane, tail, and legs. I gave Whiskey a scratch between her ears the way she loved, relishing how she pressed into my hand, searching for more. The trust in that movement was the same gift it always was. I pulled my hand back and poured the rest of the feed into her bucket.

My girls didn’t wait; they dove right in. And I knew Whiskey would be begging for more in a matter of minutes. I wasn’t wrong. A whinny sounded, and when I turned around, she blew air between her lips.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of me as I grabbed a lead rope. Sliding the stall door open, I hooked it to her halter. “You know treats are for the evenings or after a ride. You have to earn it.”

The mare snorted as if she understood every word I said. I led her into the pasture and then did the same with Stardust. I poured some kibble into a bowl for Brutus and got to work on my barn chores. An hour or so into mucking out and sweeping up, Brutus let out a bark.

As I turned, he quivered next to me. Over the seven years I’d had him, I’d learned to decipher his barks. There were warnings andalerts, but there were also happy ones like this. Those that told me someone he loved was near.

I wandered to the edge of the barn, my hand shielding my eyes to take in the figures climbing out of the familiar SUV. The moment Luca’s feet hit the gravel, a wide grin on his seven-year-old face, I gave Brutus the command for release. “Freigeben,” I said, patting his massive gray booty.

Brutus didn’t wait. He bounded over to Luca, who crouched to get right up in the dog’s face. Sutton laughed as she joined them, bending to give him all the rubs and whisper sweet nothings. They were effusive with their praise of my pup, and I wondered if he wished I were more like that. But our bond was a quiet one built during endless days in my studio or on long walks and rides in the wilderness. Still, I hoped he knew how much I loved him, even if that love lived in the silence between us.

A new flash of movement caught my eye as Cope slid from the SUV. He no longer moved as if every step was painful, but I didn’t miss the strain around his eyes and mouth as his feet hit the ground. The urge to scream at him to stop moving was strong. The image of him in the hospital after a bullet had torn through his chest and collapsed a lung flashed in my mind.

My hands fisted, fingernails biting into my palms. As the sting of pain flared, the image retreated, but not before Cope caught my look. Pain was back in his expression, but for a whole new reason now.

Fucking hell.

Cope forced a smile as he ruffled Luca’s hair. “Why don’t you and your mom go say goodbye to Whiskey and Stardust?”

Luca pushed to his feet, sighing. “I’m gonna miss them. Think they’ve got horses in Seattle?”

Sutton’s expression softened. “I’m sure they do. But I know what they definitely have…”

Luca gave her a wide smile, revealing his new permanent tooth growing in. “Hockey!”

Luca was hockey-crazed, so it felt like destiny that his mom had fallen for my professional-hockey-playing brother. As soon as Copefully rehabbed his injury, the three of them would be surrounded by all things ice.

Sutton laughed as Luca took off toward the pasture. She followed but stopped to give me a quick squeeze. “I’m going to miss you.”

I’d gotten used to having her company and admired the hell out of her strength and tenacity. “You’ll be back before you know it.”

“We will.” Her gaze lifted to Cope. “And this is important.”

I knew it was. Cope needed one more chance to play hockey his way—a healthier way—now that he had Sutton and Luca in his life.

As Sutton followed her son into the barn, Cope made his way toward me. I grimaced at the way he still guarded his steps. “Are you sure you should be doing this much walking around?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” This was the new Cope. No hiding behind jokes and straight to the point.

My hand dropped, and my fingers found a loose thread on my jeans to twist. “You’ve been busy.”

Cope pinned me with a droll stare. “Oh, yeah, super busy watching endless movies and doing my hundred-yard walks every couple of hours.”

I winced. “I suck.”

He moved in closer, ducking his head so his dark blue eyes met mine. “Don’t talk shit about my sister. Only I get to do that.”

A half laugh, half scoff left my lips. “Brings up stuff…you getting shot.”

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