A sudden heaviness falls over me at the realization. I’m not good enough for her. I might never be good enough. I don’t know that I can ever give her what she truly needs.

I shake my head slightly and square my shoulders as I stand back up. I might not be able to give her what she needs, but that will never stop me from trying.

“Come on,” I say, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair. “Let’s go for a drive.”

After she’s dressed, I help her into the truck.

I don’t know where we’re going, but it seems important to me to just keep driving.

Shannon says nothing the entire time, just stares out the back window with her head resting on the glass. I don’t know how to help her. How can I if she won’t let me in? We drive for a few minutes more when her small gasp makes me glance in the rearview mirror.

“What’s up?” I ask. She doesn’t respond, and I look out the window to see we’re passing by the stables. Her horse. “Do you want to stop?” I ask her, glancing in the rearview mirror again.

She bites her bottom lip and nods, so I slow down and turn into the small driveway that leads up to the stables. I cut the ignition and get out. Grabbing the wheelchair from the bed, I set it up next to the passenger door as Shannon eagerly opens it. She’s in such a rush that she almost falls out, and I reach out to steady her. “Easy,” I say with a laugh, helping her into the chair.

She looks up at me with a shy smile. “Um, Stone?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Could I possibly have some time alone?” she asks.

In my heart, I understand. This is what she needs.

I nod. “Of course. I’ll go check on Keets and Ruth at Saddles.”

“No beer,” she reminds me, and I flash her a grin.

“No beer,” I promise. I hop back into the truck and watch as she carefully wheels her chair into the stables. When I’m sure she’s safe, I back out and onto the road.

By the time I get to Saddles, I’m exhausted. It was such a long night, I barely got any sleep and now I’m paying for it.

I enter the bar and see it’s not too packed. A few customers are littered about the room, talking quietly as they enjoy their various lunches and drinks.

“Stone.” Ruth waves me over to the bar, and I pull up at seat. “How’s Shan?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, shaking my head as I eye the bottles of beer behind the bar. It’d be so easy. Shannon wouldn’t ever have to know . . .

“She had this major meltdown in her sleep last night that scared the absolute shit out of me. I didn’t know what to do.”

Ruth nods knowingly. “I was half-expecting it,” she admits. “Though the nightmares haven’t happened for a while.”

“Troy?” I guess, and she nods again.

“The guy really fucked her over.”

“Bastard,” I mutter under my breath. “I should’ve killed him when I saw him in the club.”

“And what good would you be to Shannon behind bars?” Ruth asks.

I hate to say it, but she has a point. “Do you always have to be right?” I tease.

“Only when I know I am.” She laughs. “You’re looking great, by the way. Keets said you looked like shit yesterday.”

“Yeah, well, today is a new day. What can I say? I feel amazing.”

“She definitely agrees with you,” Ruth says slyly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Shannon,” Ruth explains. “She’s clearly been good for you.”

“Oh, well, uh, yeah, I guess she has.” I can feel myself flush.

“Ohh, the big, bad Ethan Stone is blushing!” she teases.

“I am not,” I say, covering my face. Men don’t blush.

“Sure,” she draws out. “So, where is the invalid?”

“At the stables,” I answer as she serves a customer. “She wanted some alone time with her horse.”

“Zeke’s up there,” Ruth tells me with a smile. “He’s got a real fascination with the horses.”

A stab of guilt shoots through me. “How is he?”

“You could always ask him yourself,” Ruth answers, but I shake my head.

“He won’t even talk to me.”

“Well, have you tried to talk to him?” she counters.

I hang my head in shame. Trust her to make me feel guilty.

“I’ll take that as a no,” she states, crossing her arms with a frown.

“Look, give me a break, okay?” I say hotly. “First I get a son who looks like he’d rather kill me than call me ‘Dad’, then Shannon won’t give me an answer on my proposal, and now I’ve got you breathing down my—”

“Back up.” Ruth says, holding up one hand as she stares at me incredulously. “You proposed to Shannon? Why the hell would you do that?”

I rake my hand over my head. “I don’t know,” I confess. “It was dumb.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“I guess I thought I was trying to help her. Some guy said her dad owed him a lot of money, and she has to either pay up or sell Saddles to him.”

“What?!” Ruth screeches. “She can’t sell Saddles; it’ll kill her!”

“I know,” I agree, nodding. “That’s why I suggested we marry. That way, my money becomes her money.”

“And she’ll have enough to pay him off,” Ruth finishes for me.

“Exactly.”

“But she won’t give you an answer?” Ruth presses.

I shake my head. “Not yet. I don’t know what else to do.”

“You need to ask her again,” Keets declares as he comes out of the office. “You’re doing a good thing, man.” He slaps my shoulder comfortingly.

“I don’t feel like I am.” I feel miserable.

“Look, the worst thing she can say is no, right?”

I nod. “I guess you’re right.”

And that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

 

Opening the stall door, I push the wheelchair back as Lady slowly moves forward. I follow behind her as she ventures out into the corral and lifts her head up to the sunlight.

Sadness threatens to overwhelm me once more as I watch my beautiful horse. I’ve been to Hell and back, but she witnessed Daddy’s accident first hand. Many people might think ‘oh, she’s just a horse,’ but even a horse can only go through so much before they fall apart. She walks over and puts her head down to me. I stretch out my fingers and gently stroke her long nose. What must it have been like, to witness such a horrific accident? Do horses experience similar emotions to humans? I’ve heard that’s true. If so, she must have been terrified when those hunting dogs attacked.

I miss riding her, I can’t deny that.

A slight movement to my right catches my eye, and I turn my head in time to see a young blond-haired face staring at me from around the side of the stables. Zeke. I smile as I turn the wheelchair around. “Hey, Zeke,” I greet, motioning him over. He slowly steps out from the side of the stables, his eyes wide as he looks at Lady. “This is my baby,” I explain, petting Lady on the nose once more. “Would you like to pet her?”

He nods as I push the wheelchair back a little and he creeps slowly over, his hand outstretched.

Lady must sense his discomfort, because she whinnies and tosses her head as she takes a step toward him, putting her nose down and bumping against him. “She likes you.” I giggle, as he strokes her nose. He gives me a small smile, and I feel my heart swell. It’s a small thing, but it’s a start.

“Do you ride her?” he asks in such a quiet voice that I almost miss it.

My heart skips a beat and breaks, just a little. “Not anymore,” I say sadly.

“Why?”

I debate on how much to tell him, but ultimately decide to tell him the truth. He listens carefully as I talk about my dad, nodding occasionally. When I’m finally finished, I sit back in the wheelchair, exhausted.

He’s silent for a long time, and I begin to worry that I may have pushed him too far, too fast. Finally, he lifts his head and looks at me a little shyly. “Can I ride her?”