“Thank you, Casey,” she says softly, and I don’t answer her because I don’t trust the words that would come out of my mouth. Instead, I get up and walk back to my bedroom to grab another pillow. When I walk back out, she’s already snoring softly.
When I decided to build this house, I knew my vision. I built it from the ground up with my own hands. I did have help, but I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into this house to make it exactly like I wanted. It was the same as my parents’ but with a modern touch. The family room, unlike my parents’ house, has high ceilings, and when you turn, you can see the railing to the second floor. The couch we are sitting on was custom made. I wanted a huge U-shaped one with huge pillows to face the fireplace with a big-screen television over it. Even though I barely watch television, I bought a ninety inch.
I’m about to put my pillow on the other end of the couch when Olivia whimpers in her sleep. I stop and turn. Walking back over to her, I look down at her, and the whimpers stop. She rolls over to face the other way, and when I turn to walk to my side, she whimpers again. Walk away, Casey, I tell myself. Nothing good is going to come from this. Just walk away. But when she whimpers again, I do what I shouldn’t. I lie next to her and put my arms around her like I’ve wanted to do all night.
Her back rests against my chest, and when she whimpers again, I whisper, “I gotcha, darlin’.” I’m expecting her to open her eyes and turn around, but instead, she just sinks into my arms. So in the middle of my living room, I fall asleep with her in my arms. I wake during the night more times than normal, but when I feel her beside me, I go back to sleep. I get up before she does, leaving her on the couch as I go to the kitchen and start the coffee for her. Looking at the clock, I see it’s almost six a.m.
I’m about to text my father when I see my mother coming up the back steps. I walk over to the door and open it. “Morning,” she says quietly, but I put my finger to my mouth, then point over at the couch from the kitchen.
“She had a nightmare and didn’t want to sleep in the bedroom,” I say. My mother’s face fills with concern. “She’s fine now.”
“I came over so you can go do your things,” she says, taking off her shoes. I stand here, trying to come up with a reason not to leave her. My mother puts her hand on my arm. “It’s okay. I have her.”
After I nod at her, I walk back to my bedroom to get dressed. I’m hoping that Olivia is awake so I can see she is okay, but when I walk back out after getting dressed, I see she’s still sleeping. My mother is sitting on the couch reading a book. “Can you text me when she gets up?” She just smiles at me, so I head out the door and make my way over to the barn.
Walking into the barn I had renovated six months ago, I find the concrete floor spotless, and the sound of my boots clicking wake a couple of the horses up. “Morning, fillies.” Entering the kitchen right in front of the office, I start the coffee for everyone, then walk over to my office to turn on my computer. Another thing I did when I took over was make everything digital. No more handwritten notes, and no more writing contracts down—everything had a paper trail. Moving back to the kitchen, I fill a white coffee cup and take the first sip. Walking back to my desk, I make the work plan for the day so the guys know where they are needed and what needs to be done. After that’s printed, I put it on the clipboard in the kitchen. I hired five more people since I took over from my father after I put in more stalls and have more horses here than before. Each farm has a purpose. This one is for training, and one is for mating. I opened one for lessons and that one is taking off through the roof. I also have one that specializes in rodeo training. I keep my mind as busy as possible and try not to look at the clock every two minutes, wondering if she’s up, and if she’s not, is that normal.
At eight thirty, I get a text telling me that she’s up. They are making breakfast and I should head over. I don’t know what I’m expecting when I get there, but when I walk in, I don’t see her. My heart speeds up, and my eyes go around the room five times before my mother says, “She’s getting dressed.”
The back door opens behind me, and my father comes in. “Mornin’.” He walks around me to my mother and bends to kiss her lips. “Sweetheart.”
I’m about to go to her room when I see her walk around the corner, and my chest does something weird. I rub the middle of my chest, thinking maybe I have indigestion. She wears yoga pants with a pink sweater. Her hair is high in a ponytail, but the ends are curled. Her face is free of makeup, just how I like it. “Morning, cowboy.” She smiles, but it’s a fake one, and I have to say I hate it.
“Mornin’, darlin’,” I say. I wait for her gaze to meet mine again, but instead, she looks at my parents.
“Is there anything I can help with?” she asks my mother, who just shakes her head.
“I can set the table.” Olivia walks over to the plates. “I wonder if Kallie is coming today?”
“She’ll be over in a bit. She had things to do,” my mother says. I walk into the kitchen to help Olivia set the table. I ignore the look that my mother and father give me when I do this, and no one says anything when we eat breakfast. The three of them talk, but I don’t even know what about because all I think about is what will happen when she leaves. A knot forms in my stomach, so I get up as soon as I’m done and put my plate away.
“I have to go,” I tell them. Looking down, I try not to look at Olivia, but I fail and glance at her before walking out the back door. Walking back to the front of my house, I get into the truck and head deep into my property. I have this sudden energy, and my mind is going all over the place. Stopping my truck, I go over to a pile of wood that needs to be cut. This should help to clear my head. I slide on the gloves sitting on top of the ax and then take a piece of wood. Moving it into place, I raise the ax over my head and swing, splitting the wood into two pieces. I do it over and over again until my muscles scream, but my head remains more confused than before.
I wipe the sweat from my forehead when I hear another truck approaching. “There you are,” my father says when he gets out of the truck.
“Yeah, here I am,” I say, grabbing another piece of wood. My chest is heaving from the exertion.
“Do you want to talk about what’s gotten into you?” he asks, and I just shake my head. “It might be better if you do.”
“Nothing to say, Dad. What do you want me to say?” I ask, taking another piece of wood and swinging the ax to make the cut.
“It’s okay to be scared, son,” he says while I toss the cut pieces of wood into the growing pile.
“I’m not scared,” I say. I’m really not. Confused maybe, but not scared. “Why would I be scared?”
“Well, you almost lost her.” Those five words cut me to the core. The five words I tried not to think about since I walked into that room. Those five words could have changed my world forever.
“Everyone almost lost her.” I look at him. “Kallie, Mom, you.” I point at him.
“This is true, and we would mourn her, but you …” he says.
“But nothing, Dad.” I throw the ax down. “She’s just here until it’s safe to go home, and then she’s going home.” Just saying the words causes my stomach to burn, and I get that feeling again in my chest. This time, though, it’s followed with dread and pressure. “I need to finish this,” I say, and he doesn’t say anything more to me. He walks back to his truck, and only when he’s gone do I roar out in frustration.