Page 25 of Unbroken

We crested the hill that led down to the ranch. For a few moments, we paused to take in the view until Gatsby started pawing at the ground.

“Looks like someone wants to let loose a little.” Just as Josh said that, Indigo did a sidestep, letting out a snort.

We both looked at each other. “Loser has to put the horses up and muck out the stalls?” I suggested.

“Agreed.” Josh gave a shout and leaned forward, tucking his legs against Indigo’s flank. The horse took off like a shot.

I yipped at Gatsby, leaning forward, one hand on the saddle horn. “Come on, Gatsby, we’ve got a race to win.”

The race down the hill was exhilarating with the two of us whooping and yelling and the horses neck and neck. Gatsby picked up speed and we finally passed Indigo, putting distance between us and them. Sure that the race was won, I sat up tall in the saddle, enjoying the moment, but I’d underestimated Josh’s determination to win. He and Indigo surged past us, his body bent practically in half as he leaned close to the horse, urging him on.

“Well, shit, you going to let them get away with that?” I asked Gatsby. We picked up speed but it was too late.

With a loud whoop, Josh and Indigo beat us to the stables, much to the amusement of the hands who came out to see what all the yelling was about. We were both laughing as we dismounted. With a flourish, Josh handed me Indigo’s reins before tipping his hat and striding for the house.

I shook my head as I led both horses into the barn, wondering if he’d done that on purpose to get out of the chores. I probably could have won if I’d pushed Gatsby, but I’d had just as much fun coming in second, which gave me pause. My father had always been insistent that the Carters had to be the best at everything. To him, coming in second was the same as coming in last. But I didn’t want to see the world that way. I might be my father’s son, but I didn’t have to follow his lead. I could pick my own path and decide what mattered to me.

SIXTEEN

ELI

“It feels like there’s a dirt bike riding around in my belly,” Patrick said, his forehead creased into a frown.

“Aw, bud, that’s no good,” I said, reaching down to touch the top of my boy’s head. It was after dinner and instead of playing, Patrick had asked to take a bath and go right to bed.

I was getting seriously worried about the stomachaches. They used to happen a few times a month, but now they felt like a weekly occurrence. And the fact that they were sending him to bed made me ache too. We’d been to the pediatrician a few times already and after thorough exams, the doctor had chalked them up to anxiety. I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse. It wasn’t that I wanted my son to have gallstones or appendicitis or any of the other things I’d terrified myself with by looking up online, but if there was a physical problem, I’d know what to do to solve it.

“Relieve his stressors, whatever they might be,” the doctor had told me, providing no help whatsoever. I had no clue what could be upsetting my son, and attempts to get him to talk about anything that he might be concerned about were always met with silence and tremblinglips. Charlotte wasn’t exactly present in my son’s life, but when we were together, I knew that she was a loving mother and would never do anything to hurt him. Meanwhile, I was doing everything I could as a single parent to give Patrick a safe and happy childhood.

I needed to figure out what was going on. Was he too young for therapy? If it came to that, he’d probably need a specialist, which meant taking him to the city for help. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but I was prepared to make it happen if it meant my normally happy child returned to feeling that way.

“What can I get for you, young man? A drink, maybe? Thunderstorm juice? Penguin toenails? A horse tail smoothie?”

Patrick let out a giggle.

“Oh, okay. I know what you want …” I raised my eyebrows to prompt Patrick and we both shouted in unison.

“A hug sandwich!”

I dove onto the bed and wrapped Patrick in a hug, making him laugh harder. The response made my heart twist with love. I’d do anything to keep my son happy and laughing. If only I knew how to make that happen and take his pain away at the same time.

I thought about the rule I’d made up the last time Patrick had felt sick, discouraging my son from the stomachaches by making them boring … and then decided that was a bad rule. My kid was unhappy, and I wanted to make him smile. “You know what? I’m going to give you my phone until bedtime, then I’ll come in and read you a book. Sound good?”

Patrick bounced in bed, clapping his little hands. “Yes! Thank you, Daddy!”

Right as I took it out of my pocket and handed it to Patrick, I heard a knock at the front door.

“Holler if you need me, little man,” I said as I backed out of the room.

Fiona had offered to stop by on her way out for the night to show me how to use the new trail GPS app Zoe had recommended for us. I’d hoped to have all of the dinner dishes cleared before she arrived, but as usual, I was running behind. But it wasn’t like she’d judge me. Ever since the wedding, it felt as though we had a new understanding and appreciation for one another.

I swung open the door and tried not to let my eyes wander up and down her body, but even in a simple blue sundress and flip-flops, she looked incredible. I was instantly reminded how good it felt to hold her on the dance floor; how she just seemed tofitwith me, in my arms.

“Hi,” she beamed at me for a second, then pushed her way past me. “You ready to learn some cool new tricks?”

“Depends on who’s teaching,” I said, following behind her and appreciating the view.

“Phone, please,” she said, holding out her hand.

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