“I’m selling all of the horses, Grady. We won’t have any place for them at the house I’ll be renting in town. But I just can’t bring myself to sell Remy. I can pay for him to stay here, at your place. I’ll take care of all his vet bills and feed and everything else. I just need a place to board him.”
“I won’t take a dime of your money, but he can absolutely have a home here with me. It would be an honor.”
Peg eased her posture. “You have no idea what that means to me. Truly. I’ve been able to let go of a lot of things, but I just can’t do it with that silly old horse.”
“It’s nothing.”
That was a lie. Remy was always Walt’s right hand man, his confidant and tried and true steed. Grady was certain that gelding knew even more family secrets than he did, carried more than just the burden of Walt’s weight upon his back.
“It’s not nothing, Grady. It’s a huge something.”
Grady shrugged and smiled at the same moment the coffee maker buzzed. The aromatic brew wafted around them, its smell spicy and warm. “Can I pour you a cup?”
Sliding back from the table, Peg stood. “Actually, no. Thank you, though. I have to go into town to meet with my realtor and start signing some papers just a little later on today. But I’m so, so grateful for this conversation, Grady. It’s been heavy on my mind. Couldn’t sleep last night thinking about it. It’s why I’m here so early.”
Grady was grateful too, no matter how hard the subject matter or how early the hour. It felt good and right to be included in this process—for once to be asked instead of told. While he loved Walt, that man never gave Grady the opportunity to say no, never offered him the chance to make a choice. Grady was his boy, and though he loved being it, it felt good to finally be seen as a man.
It made Grady wonder if Walt had still been around, if he would’ve ever gotten that opportunity.
13
Maren
“Where are you taking him?”
Josie disappeared into the occupied horse stall, a nylon halter slung over her shoulder. They’d had six prospective horse buyers in as many days, and while some were the expected tire kickers, others drove off with one from the herd loaded into their trailers, headed to a new forever home.
Maren had been okay with seeing them go, mostly because Josie appeared to be okay with it. Her acceptance of their mother’s choices made it easier in a way. Maren felt it was the sort of sisterly camaraderie she’d hoped for all of her life and she would take it any way she could get it.
She had been okay with it all, that was, until the clomping of hooves to be led from their property belonged to Remy.
“He’s not for sale, Josie.” Stepping forward, Maren yanked the lead rope from Josie’s grip.
“I know that.” With just as much assertion, she pulled the rope back into her possession. “He’s going to Cutter’s.”
Maren blanched. “Grady’s?”
Remy, her father’s best horse, was being given to Grady? It shouldn’t have surprised her in the way it did. In fact, it seemed like the right thing to do. Still, she didn’t like it.
Josie gave Maren a sidelong glance. “I don’t know why you act the way you do when it comes to him, Maren.” She shook her head and clucked her tongue to move Remy forward from the barn aisle. “You’re such a stupid woman when it involves Cutter.”
Maren’s teeth clamped down. In recent days, Maren sensed a truce forming between the two, but this newest statement flew in the face of that. Sure, they agitated the other purposefully like all siblings did, but they rarely said things that cut to the core like this.
Josie knew Maren had loved Grady and how that hadn’t been enough for him. It was a below-the-belt attempt to incite the hurt that clawed within her. Josie knew exactly which scab to pick and how much it would bleed. Family understood these things, and as a result, they could inflict the most pain.
Maren stood still, under the delusion that her body could serve as an effective blockade between the barn and the trailer. Ignoring her, Josie tugged Remy forward as though Maren wasn’t there at all. She was no match for one thousand pounds and Josie’s equal amount of determination. They shoved Maren to the side against the red barn wall and headed toward the open rig parked near the hitching rail just a few paces away.
Maren was terrible at thinking on her feet. She was the sort of woman that would remain silent through an argument and only later—when ruing over her failure—could she come up with the right words to weave into remarks.
Maren had sorted through a million or more when it came to that last meaningful conversation with Grady.
“You were confused,” he would’ve said like he did back then, and in an alternate ending Maren would’ve looked into those enticing blue eyes, her hands hooked defiantly on her hips, and she would’ve replied in her steadiest voice, “You are most certainly right. I was confused by the idea that you were a real man worthy to fall in love with.” His face would pale, the dagger struck deep into his unfeeling heart. Maren would use that as fodder for her anger and continue, “But I’m not confused by you anymore. Goodbye, Grady Cutter. For good.”
Then she would stomp away. It wouldn’t have been so different from the reality of how things played out that night, but she would’ve had her head held high. And that would have made all the difference.
She was so very vulnerable when it came to Grady.
Josie saw that vulnerability as open season on Maren’s already broken heart.
“The best thing Cutter ever did was get that Kiley Swift pregnant,” Josie sneered as she hopped down from the trailer after tying Remy inside. “At least now people don’t think of him as the pathetic, lovesick neighbor boy who never could make you his own.”
Josie slammed the trailer gate into Maren’s shoulder, sending her sister tumbling backward onto the pocked gravel road. Stinging from the impact, Maren’s palms felt like fire. Dust plumed around her and she tasted the gritty bits that landed in her mouth. She turned her head to spit and caught a glimpse of Josie looming over her. Her eyes were narrowed into slits.
“Get up,” Josie snarled. She regarded Maren with disgust as she swatted the dust from her own thighs and secured the trailer gate into place. “Take the horse to Cutter’s yourself. I’m done with the both of you.”
The metallic taste of blood coated Maren’s mouth. Even her eyes hurt from holding back tears. She would not cry over this. She wouldn’t do it.
Remy whinnied from inside the trailer when she placed the truck into park. Maren steadied herself with a drawn out breath that felt more like a gulp. As if in welcome, Grady’s four horses raced from their open stalls into the shared paddock and they nickered a greeting. Maren knew the horse would settle in just fine. Remy had pushed and branded cows with each one of the Cutter horses and he knew their scents and personalities well.
She unlatched the trailer door and backed the horse slowly out.
“Welcome to your retirement home, boy.” Maren’s fingers scratched under his thick, red mane. They walked down the drive side by side and she reached forward to unlock the gate as she slipped the halter from Remy’s head. As soon as he was free of the rope, he cantered over to his friends, snorting hot breaths at those who ran up to him.