“Nope. It’s called therapy. Jenna style.”
She picks up my beer just as the bartender sets it down and takes a huge gulp.
She looks over my shoulder and her eyes widen a tad. Smiling innocently at me, she blurts, “I gotta pee. Be right back,” and then she slides off her stool and takes off.
My heart starts pounding when I wonder who she saw behind me that made her react in such a way. Almost every part of my heart and soul, along with several body parts as well, are hoping and praying that it’s Trick she spotted. Even though it will be so hard to see him, especially if he’s with someone else, at this point, I just want to see him. Watch him walk, see him smile. Watch him drag his fingers through his hair in that way that he does.
Before I turn around, I close my eyes. I’m preparing myself, trying to stop the butterflies of nervous excitement from making me puke all over the bar. I’m convinced I’ll see Trick.
But I don’t.
The earth-shattering let down, the crushing of that tiny seed of hope is almost more than I can take. My throat closes up around an invisible fist of disappointment. I try to swallow past it, but can’t.
Brent is standing a few feet from my barstool, staring at me. I try to offer up even a polite smile, but my lips tremble around it and I know it looks as pathetic as I feel.
“Excuse me,” I mutter as I scoot off my stool. I head for the bathroom, but when I get there, I keep right on going. Right out to the parking lot, to Jenna’s car. There’s no hope of salvaging the night now.
I’d rather just die instead. Get it over with.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO - Trick
It’s coming up on three months. I think I’ve gotten up every day since I left Cami’s house and thought to myself, “This is the day. This is the day she’ll change her mind and give us another chance.”
Today, I wonder if she ever will. I wonder if I’ll ever get the future that I’d begun seeing as reality more than fantasy.
Today, it feels less likely than ever before.
And I hate that feeling.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE - Cami
Daddy’s droning on and on about the purse for one of the larger state races coming up and what he plans to do with the money.
I know I should be paying closer attention, and I genuinely try to focus on him when he’s talking. The problem is, I seem to have lost all interest in pretty much anything lately. I feel like I’m being sucked into a downward spiral that has no end in sight. Daylight and hope and happiness get farther and farther away with every sun that sets.
I think in some small way, I expected Trick to come back. I expected him to change his mind, to hear from his mom that I was there and suddenly decide he can’t live without me.
But it seems like that is never going to happen. And I’m left trying to make some kind of life for myself without him.
The thing is, I don’t think I’m interested in a life without him. Sometime when I wasn’t looking, Trick became everything I want out of my entire existence. Without him, I just don’t know what’s left.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR - Trick
When did nights get so long? Probably when I started waking up thinking about Cami. Every time it happens, which is more and more often lately, I can’t go back to sleep because of this miserable ache that won’t leave me alone. So I lie in bed and remember and wish and curse and get angry. Then I think about all the things I wish I’d said, all the things that might’ve made a difference. But even still, I can’t go back to sleep. And then the cycle repeats itself.
I’ve thought several times about downing a fifth of something before bed, enough to drown out all thought, especially those of Cami. But for some reason I can’t bring myself to do it. I think the problem is that I don’t really want to drown her out. Memories and wishes are all I have left.
And I’m not ready to let them go yet. If I ever will be.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE - Cami
I wonder if I look as determined as I feel. I decide from the look on Sooty’s face that I probably do. I march right past him, down the main corridor of the stable and stop in front of Lucky’s stall. I yank open the door and start to walk in. But then I stop.
Tears fill my eyes like they have every other time I’ve tried to go see him. Leaning up against the wall, I give in to the urge to cry, just like I have every other time I’ve visited the stall. I can’t seem to help it. And I’ve tried. Dozens of times. But all I can see, all I can think of and hear and feel and smell is Trick and the night we spent together when Lucky was born.
How can the best day of your life also be the worst? I’m tortured by the memory of Trick giving in to me, to what we shared, and yet I can’t stop thinking about it. Not even long enough to visit Lucky without having a hysterical tear-fest.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX - Trick
The weather is noticeably cooler as I put Rags through his paces. He’s made even better progress than what I’d anticipated. And I’m pleased. Really pleased. But it seems a more hollow victory than I’d imagined it would be. I’ve been dreaming of this day for a long time—the day I’d be breaking and training my own horse, laying the groundwork for my own future, finally getting back some control of my own life. Why isn’t it everything I’d dreamed it would be?
I didn’t realize until I lost her how much I’d included Cami in my thoughts, my hopes, my plans. My happiest daydreams.
Although it didn’t start out that way, it hadn’t taken me long to think of her as being a part of this whole taming-a-wild-horse process, of her cheering me on and being continually amazed by my horse-whispering prowess. I smile as I think of her laughing and rolling her eyes over my humongous ego when it comes to my confidence in Rags.
That smile dies when the image of her fades away.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN - Cami
I usually love it when summer starts melting into fall. I love the colors and the cooler air, the excitement of football season, which my father has always loved, too. There’s always a break in the racing season if the ranch is racing a horse for the year and, if not, it’s turning into buying season for people who want to make the following year’s races.
Then come the holidays. Thanksgiving and Christmas, followed by the New Year. New plans, new horses. More training, more breeding. It’s a cycle I’ve been through half my life.
And I’ve always looked forward to it.
Until this year. It seems like even the best, most exciting things about life have lost their luster. I can only hope it’ll come back. One day.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT - Trick
“I don’t know why you didn’t just let me drive. Even that piece of shit I’m working on now would be a better ride than this thing.”
Rusty hasn’t stopped complaining since we left his shop.
“So what you’re saying, since you helped me fix this truck, is that you do crap work. Is that it?”
“I do great work. I’m just saying that…it’s a truck. They can only be so comfortable. A car would be much better for a ride like this.”
“A, it’s not that far. And B, I’m getting the word out. Since I got the logo magnets for the doors, I’m like a driving advertisement for equestrian awesomeness.”
After I sold the Mustang, I felt pretty guilty, like I’d betrayed Dad or let him down, even though he did it first. He did love that car and he wanted me to have it. But financially, I just couldn’t justify keeping it when selling it would help so much.
I don’t feel quite as bad now, though. I used the logo from the top of the Ferrier’s kit, the one with the horseshoe and my initials, for my new venture, my new life. Even if I don’t always feel like an official champion Quarter horse breeder, at least I can start looking the part. All I’m lacking today is the horse trailer I bought to pull behind. It’s outfitted with the logo, too.
“It’s gonna feel pretty damn far when I try to get out on numb legs and a cramped ass.”
“God, you’re worse than a woman. Stop your bitching and find us some good music to listen to.”
Our barbed banter continues the rest of the one hundred and twelve miles to the track. The race we’re attending is one of the biggest before the Colonial Cup in November. I know all the big names in Southern breeders have at least one horse in the mix. If I hope to get Rags in a race early next year, I need to check out the competition.
At the track, after we’ve parked, Rusty and I head for the stable area. I made sure we left in enough time to be able to mill around down there and check out the horseflesh, maybe pick up on a little something helpful or important. I hadn’t planned on jumping into this blind. I guess I’d sort of figured I’d get to know a lot more about this stuff from Sooty and Jack, but…
I stop to introduce myself to several trainers along the way. They’re polite enough, most of them not seeing me as any kind of competition. I have my age working for me in that way. They don’t fear me or feel threatened by me, which means they’re more likely to answer my questions and feel more relaxed in talking than they might otherwise. At least that’s my theory. And it seems to be spot-on so far.
After talking to a trainer out of the more Northern parts of the state, I see the familiar colors of Jack’s operation—dark purplish-blue and deep brick red. Maybe it’s where I haven’t seen it in a while or maybe it’s where I still can’t get Cami out of my head, but the blue looks just like her eyes and the red isn’t that far off from her hair. Could be my imagination, but I wonder if Cherlynn’s looks had anything to do with Jack picking those colors for his horses. Maybe, like me, he was so in love with her, he saw her everywhere, saw her eyes and her hair in every blue and red around.
I turn back the other way. No sense making it harder than it has to be. No reason to torture myself. It’s been months since I’ve seen Cami, but it hasn’t gotten any easier. In fact, it might even be getting harder every day. I’m not sure. Sometimes it feels like it can’t hurt any more. But the next day, it does.
Rusty grabs my arm. “Where you going, man? Don’t you know him or something?”
I look around to see who Rusty’s talking about. I see Sooty standing at the door of a stall, looking in my direction. Our eyes meet and he nods. I nod in return. He tips his head toward the stall and disappears inside. I debate whether or not to go talk to him.
Surely it can’t hurt anything, right?
I turn around and walk back to where Sooty disappeared. In a way, I hope Cami is in there with him. Even though it would probably kill me to see her, I want to. Just one more time. Up close.
But he’s alone in the stall. Just him and Highland Runner.
I know the shock registers on my face.
“Are you kidding me?”
Sooty smiles in that way he has. It’s mischievous. And pleased.
“Nope. I told you, you were right about him. He’s got something. He’s a winner.”
“Is this his first race?”
“Naw, we’ve had him in some smaller ones. Jack wasn’t convinced too easy. But once he saw him run…”
Pride, and lots of it, bubbles up in me. I feel like laughing and whooping like a kid. But I don’t. I just smile. It’s probably a pretty big smile, though.
“Damn.”
Sooty laughs. “That all you’ve got to say?”
“What else should I say?”
“I don’t know, but I hope you’re proud, son. Jack’s been picking and breeding winners for a lot of years. I’ve never seen him wrong about a horse, never seen him misjudge talent. He’s got a great eye. But you…you got something different, Trick. You were born to work these horses. It’s in your blood.”
I take a deep breath. There’s a swell of emotion in there that I don’t want to get the better of me. Not knowing what else to do, I stick out my hand. Sooty takes it.
“Thanks, Sooty. I just…I don’t know… Thanks. It means a lot.”
He winks at me. “I knew it would.” Sooty leans back against the wall and tips his hat up. “What brings you ‘round?”
“Just checking out the competition.”
“Competition? Is that right?”
I nod. “Got a horse of my own now. I’m making a go of it. I don’t know exactly how it’ll turn out, but I have to try.”
“You talking ‘bout that wild horse? Did you finally get it?”
I can’t remember ever telling Sooty about my plans for adopting Rags.
“Yeah, I did. A couple months ago. How’d you know?”
“Pretty little bird told me you had plans for one,” he says with another wink. “Glad to hear you got him.”
Cami was talking to Sooty about me? I’m not sure how I feel about that. Encouraged, for sure. Curious. Confused.
Damn! Don’t give me hope after all this time.
But it’s too late. It’s already opening up in my gut—hope. Maybe she’d changed her mind somewhere along the way, but just didn’t have the nerve to come find me. After all, I never got to tell her how I feel, even after she’d accidentally told me she loved me. Maybe I should’ve. Maybe that would’ve made a difference.
Sooty and I talk shop for a little longer, but my mind is far, far from the conversation. All I can think about is Cami and if I should find a way to run into her, just to see if maybe she’s having regrets, too. I wouldn’t be disrespecting or pressuring her that way. I could make it casual, just enough of a run-in to gauge her reaction.
We say our goodbyes and Rusty and I make our way to the stands to watch the race. I keep an eye out for Jack, but don’t see him.