Page 29 of Unspoken Hearts
Chapter eight
Reid
“Storm’sover,buddy,”Imurmur to Whiskey, scratching his nose. My horse lets out a loud breath, like he can understand my relief. Cinnamon trots over as well, giving a small whine.
Cole stands beside me in the middle of the pasture. Reaching out, he gives her a pat on the neck, smiling up at the palomino beauty. “I bet you are hungry.” He glances my way. “I’ll grab their food.”
Nodding, my eyes track him walking to the shed, Cinnamon shadowing him, because these horses are too curious for their own good.
Whoever says that horses don’t have personalities clearly haven’t spent any time with them.
Whiskey follows, tail swishing happily as Cole fills the trough, before returning half the bale to the shed and brushing his hands clean on his jeans.
“All right. Horses are done. Cows are next.”
I nod again, moving towards the gate, mud clinging to my boots, making the pasture slippy and sloshy. Leaves and branches litter the ground—most needing to be cleaned up over thenext day or two. The wind has died down again, finally, but there is the lingering cold drizzle as the last of the storm passes.
Eyes focusing on the warm sun peeking up over the town, a small smile reaches my mouth. I may not be a morning person, but I will never tire of seeing a beautiful sunrise.
Closing the gate behind us, Cole and I jump on the quad bikes before heading over to the paddock where the livestock are. The broken fence sticks out like a sore thumb. A group of cows wander around, staring at the obstruction of the fallen tree.
Nosey little creatures.
“Tree down. We’ll need to move them into the top paddock with the sheep until it’s repaired,” I say, turning off my bike.
Cole groans, rubbing at his chin. “I’ll go tell Dad. We’ll need to chop it since it’s too big to move on its own.” He turns his bike around, heading back towards the house.
Entering the pasture, dew and muck squelches beneath my boots, as well as some fresh manure. I wander over to the breakage in the property line. The cows surround me, as curious as I am, as I assess what needs to be replaced. The gumtree is tall and thick, and managed to pull down four posts worth of fencing, which will take maybe half a day to replace, if I’m lucky.
But Cole it right—it’ll have to be chopped up first.
Letting out a sigh, I stand again, resting my hands on my waist. As I stare up at the mountains, my mind becomes more consumed with Macie. I tried to not think about her last night, and the fact that Grayson didn’t return from her house. The rain was terrible, so I wasn’t surprised, but the reception was down so I couldn’t check on them either.
More Macie than Grayson.
As if on cue, I hear the crunching of gravel and turn to see Grayson’s silver ute coming down the gravel drive littered on twigs and puddles. Grayson slips out of the driver’s seat at the same time Macie comes around, and I feel my pulse quicken.
Why is she here this early?
Eyes glued to her oversized hoodie and trackpants, I feel the pinch in my eyebrows when I see Grayson pull an overnight bag out of the back seat.
Panic flares through me like lightning, burning up my throat. I storm out of the paddock, knowing that moving the tree will need to wait.
Macie is more important.
Reaching the back door, I rush inside to see Macie with Mum and Grayson. Holden is brushing oAspen’s hair, but I can tell that he’s listening in. The lights are on, the kettle is boiling, but my eyes land on her fiery hair.
Hands beginning to sweat, I can’t seem to move any closer as Grayson moves Macie to sit on the couch. Mum sits beside her, holding her hand as she does when she’s concerned. My jaw ticks when Cole and Dad burst through the door.
“Macie,” Dad urges, dragging mud along the floor with him as he walks towards her.
My brain finally kicks into gear, and I walk to her other side, noticing how frazzled she is. Macie’s not visibly shaking, but she is stunned. Or perhaps frightened? I’m not sure which.
I don’t miss her tongue swiping at her lips, which she always does when she’s silently stressed, and it makes my heart pound heavier. She might think that I can’t see it, but I do. Through the years of knowing her, I can tell her silent screams for help, just like the other night at thepub when I walked her home. She never drinks, but I could smell the vodka on her breath and knew she was mentally struggling, even if she tried to play it off. Then when I realised about Axel taking her car…
“What happened, dear?” Mum rushes out, stroking Macie’s hair. Grayson moves closer to my side. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”
Macie shakes her head, arms wrapped around herself. I wish I could hold her and tell her that she’ll be all right.
