Page 32 of Never Left You
Kyla bent down and wrapped her nephew in her arms. Rhett gave me a quick nod as I climbed out of the truck.
“Stet!” I began to jog. “Get your ass over to the rig and get the paint.”
“Uncle Cash, have you met Josie yet?” Stetson let go of Kyla and stood to run back towards the pasture.
“Is that kid always running?” I looked up at Rhett. “Can you help with the paint?”
“I got it. Go meet that damn cow.” Rhett let out a grumble, gently touching his wife before heading to my rig. “Stetson won’t shut up about her until you do.”
“With reason. That’s a great cow.” Kyla smiled. She bit her bottom lip and looked at her husband. “Come on, let’s get the paint.”
My gaze followed to the pasture where Stetson climbed over the fence, jumped down, and ran towards a small brown-and-white cow. I shook my head, tipped my chin, and followed him, stepping up on the wooden fence as he wrapped his arms around the cows neck. She let out a small moo, but my smile faded when I saw a brown horse resting on the field, laying in the small patch of grass. And resting against the horse was a gorgeous blonde. Abi.
It was Luna, Sylas’s horse, and Abi leaned up against the horse’s stomach, her legs outstretched in front of her. Her chin tilted up as she seemingly took in the sun. The horse didn’t mind the weight on her stomach, didn’t seem to care at all that Abi was basically using her as a pillow. Instead, Luna turned her headand used her nose to nudge Abi’s temple. Abi raised an arm and touched Luna's nose, hugging her, never once opening her eyes.
Years ago, I used to draw. I had dozens of sketch books at home with doodles and random pictures of horses, people, rodeo. It was a hobby I kept only to myself, a part of my life not even Carolyn knew about. And seeing this, I suddenly wished I had a sketch book. I would capture this for her, freeze this moment in time, even though I hadn’t picked up a pencil in years.
She was in the moment with the horse, taking the nudges the mare was offering her. I noticed her breathing, long and deep, as she rested. Then Luna shook her head and gracefully laid it down next to Abi’s body once more. Abi moved slightly, adjusting for the horse, as she draped her arm over her neck, her other hand reached up to wipe her face free of something before she laid her head back on Luna’s belly.
Abi looked…sad. Even in such peaceful moments, she was hurting.
Hurting from…what?
It took all my strength not to go sit next to her, ask her what was going through her mind, how I could potentially hold some of that for her.
I would only cause more if I did that, even if we were trying to move forward from the past. There were still scars there. She still didn’t want me around even if she agreed she would be cordial. I wanted nothing more than to be her friend again.
I could hear Stetson calling, his laughter, but all I saw was Abi and emotions that came with her as she moved. Her gaze followed to where her son was. She inhaled deeply, scratched behind Luna’s ear, and then slowly stood. The mare shook her head again, obviously not liking the fact that she was pulled from her nap. Still glued to Abi, I watched as she reached her arms over her head in a stretch before placing both hands over herface. She took deep breaths—one…two…three…before dropping her hands to give her son a large, warm, welcoming smile.
Even through the smile, I saw the pain.
In the back of my mind, I made a mental note to go grab a sketch book on my way home tonight.
Eleven
Abi
Thenightairhitmy skin as the wind blew by. Why I decided to sit on the porch at eight at night thinking it would be a good way to clear my head was beyond me. The same way I thought sitting with Luna would be a good idea. I couldn’t peg what was going on with me today. I just knew I couldn’t stop my thoughts. Those memories would creep up, no matter how hard I tried to force them down.
Putting on a smile was easy enough; dinner was actually kind of interesting. Kyla turned down the wine Rhett offered her, saying she was still not feeling the best from this morning, andwhen a giant steak was placed in front of her, she gagged and ran out of the room. I glanced at my mom, giving her the knowing smile while my brother stood to follow his wife, seemingly still oblivious. I knew Kyla was telling him tonight. She wanted to tell him before announcing it to the entire family, but seeing as my mom picked up on it too, it wouldn't be long before everyone else would.
Cash was there at dinner, taking a seat in between Lachlan and Stetson, deep in conversation about the color of the barn. Stetson was insisting it be red, and he showed Lachlan the swatch he brought home from the hardware store. Lachlan turned that down immediately, promising Stetson that the paint wouldn’t go to waste. Every now and then, even in the middle of their conversation, I would catch Cash glancing over at me, his eyes filled with questions I wished he would speak out loud. Even then, I probably wouldn’t answer them.
So, after Stetson was asleep, I made myself a cup of decaf coffee and wrapped myself in a blanket burrito. As soon as the quiet hit, everything I was pushing down during the day came creeping back up.
Sylas.
I missed my husband.
I missed the way he would jump when he was excited.
I missed the way he smelled, the way the smell still enveloped pieces of clothing.
I missed his laugh, his voice, his touch.
I stopped the tears before they began again—crying once today was enough—and lifted my mug to my lips. I sniffed, looking at the stars as I adjusted my shoulders, sinking deeper in the cushion. Why did the memory of us discovering we were pregnant come with such pain? It shouldn’t still feel this way, should it? I should be able to think about him without getting sad, without crying. I can talk about him with others with noissues, a smile half of the time. Of course, they don’t see how I am after we talk. All the tears I hide. But this…this is kind of ridiculous. It’s been five years. I should be able to remember these things without breaking down on the inside.
“It’s a bit cold out here to be stargazing, don’t you think?” the Southern drawl filled the emptiness, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was grateful I was no longer alone. But I didn’t move. I simply took another sip of my coffee.
