Page 55 of Till The Cows Come Home
“Horrible things happen.” She sighed. “The world has a funny way of testing us, but I promise you, Sage, you’re going to get through this.”
I stayed silent to the cliche response, choosing instead to settle into the comfort I’d refused myself for so long, and as my mother rubbed my back, the exhaustion took over.
Smoke filled my nose, snuffing out my desperate attempts to fill my lungs with air as I tried to get to him. I crawled slowly, but every inch I gained drained the reservoir of oxygen that had steadily depleted. The heat nipped at my skin, flames climbing the walls around me, but the true pain was what rippled through me as I reached Miles’ lifeless body.
I sat upright, clutching my chest as I looked around. No flames. No Smoke. No Miles. Sun spilled into the room and the panic lessened as I began to orient myself. I clung to the comfort my mother poured into this room, using each tailored nicknack to ground me back to reality.
It took mere seconds for every detail to flood back into my mind and I instantly yearned for the few moments of bliss I’d felt before remembering everything I’d lost. Unable to escape reality, I grabbed my phone, tapping the screen to reveal dozens of missed calls and even more texts. Ruby’s messages were the most recent, and the tears began again as I read her condolences along with her threats that if I didn’t keep her updated, she’d be here to watch over me. I searched for Jane’s name amongst the unread messages, hoping to arrange a fewdays off, but when I finally found it, she’d already sent me a text.
Take the week. Call me when you’re ready. I’m so sorry.
Relief coursed through me. It was Sunday and I couldn’t stomach the idea of stumbling through the workday tomorrow, knowing I’d have to feign some semblance of togetherness. The night’s memories had steadily trickled back into my mind, but the guilt hit me all at once as the image of Miles’ face resurfaced, the pain of my departure etched perfectly in his expression. I needed to see him, see the cows, see the damage now that we had the light of day, and in an attempt to avoid my parents, I tiptoed through the house, throwing on my shoes before grabbing my mom’s keys and rushing out the door.
My heart sank at the blackened building that came into view as I pulled in. Bits of the structure struggled to stay upright, encapsulating small untouched areas that eerily distinguished the pile of ash. As I peeled my eyes away from the disaster, I quickly realized there was no one here. Miles’ truck was gone, and the pasture was empty.
Choosing not to linger, I headed back the way I came, and when I pulled back into my parent’s driveway I sat until I could no longer handle not knowing. Without thinking I dialed his number, nervously tapping my foot as the line continued to ring.
“Hello,” he answered curtly, his voice echoing as if he was still in his truck.
“Where are they?” I questioned, ignoring the tensionbetween us while simultaneously soaking in the comfort his voice brought me.
“A barn a few towns over offered to take them in until I sort everything out.”
“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” I whispered.
“Yeah, well you left, Sage,” he muttered. “Turns out when the light disappears, the world just continues on in the dark.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Miles
Earlier That Day
After the fire department finally left, I stood in the driveway looking at everything I’d lost, the ruin highlighted by the sunrise, and it wasn’t until Stu spoke that I forced my eyes from the pile of ash in front of me.
“You should get some rest,” he’d mumbled, searching my face nervously, as if he expected me to fall apart right in front of him, but I didn’t.
Not then, anyway.
I did nod in agreement, though, excusing myself into my home after thanking him with every ounce of emotion I could muster. He didn’t have to wait up, his alliance wasn’t to me, and yet he was the last to leave. His concern was valid, though, because as soon as I crossed the threshold, I was no longer able to hold my own weight. My body instinctively used the door as a prop, holding me up as the weight of the morning finally hit me like a ton of bricks. Even still, I listened, waiting for his truck to pull out of the driveway, and only when I could no longer hear the sound of pavement crunch under his wheelsdid I allow the charade to fade away. My body slumped and my poor attempt at a stoic expression fell, but I couldn’t crumble, not yet, because there was still so much to do.
I walked to the dining room table, determined to gather the papers necessary for not only the vet coming later this morning, but also to any potential farm gracious enough to house the cows until I figured out what the hell I was doing. Taking the list we’d highlighted, I began sorting the papers into green and red piles, ignoring my blurring vision as the grief snuck its way out of the cracks in the wall I’d erected. The papers stuck together from years of abuse and I slowed to peel them apart, careful not to rip them, but as my hands shook, I could feel the anger rising in my throat.
My composure snapped and my hand swiped across the table, the sudden force sending the previous night's coffee mugs across the room. Momentarily ignoring the regret that surfaced, I watched as they traveled through the air, suspended for only a moment, and as I closed my eyes, exhaling deeply, I waited for them to fall. My body winced out of reflex as the sound of ceramic shards exploding overtook the room, another addition to the already debilitating disaster.
Her father was right. I needed to shut my mind off before I tore this place apart, but I was terrified. I knew the moment my lids closed I’d see Sage’s horrified expression looking up at me like I was a monster, any ounce of feelings she had for me dissolving away into the sad blue pools of her eyes. The sorrow continued to creep in and I found myself unable to distinguish the losses I was grieving. The herd was obvious, but part of me was attempting to say goodbye to the love I hadn’t even confessed.
The mix of anger and disappointment settled heavy in my gut as I tried to rationalize what had happened. Sage left. She watched with me as both our dreams burned to the ground and instead of standing with me, she walked away.
An incoming phone call tore me from my thoughts, and I rifled for my cell, knowing I couldn’t afford to ignore a call.
“Hello?” I answered, not bothering to hide the way my voice cracked as I spoke.
“Hi, I’m looking for Mr. Carver.”
“This is him. You can call me Miles, though. Mr. Carver was my father.”
“Well Miles, I heard you had a long night. My name is John Chambers. I own a farm over in Stanton, and I wanted to extend not only my condolences, but also my hospitality. We have some room freed up, and Stu Baker told me you need a spot for your herd.”
