Then there’s the goddamn mountain that’s appeared like a damned mirage.
Fuck, I’m at the point of believing aliens really do exist.
The first fence is looming, but I know Geralt’s got this.
He launches over the barbed-wire fence with such effortless grace, relief barrels into me. He’s in control. It feels good. And since I’m the one riding him, I need to suck that shit up and take a page out of his book.
Wind whips around us, but Geralt powers on, his hooves pounding the familiar path towards my sister’s property. Urgency gnaws at me, anxiety coursing through my veins.
Jamie’s a good kid. He’s smart. He’s also a country kid. He knows how to handle himself.
He has to be fine.
My reassurances are a mantra in my head as I push Geralt harder, urging him to go faster and cover the distance in record time.
My sister’s property grows closer on the horizon, and my heart races, fear and hope battling it out. But the house looks unaffected. So does the barn.
That’s a good thing, right?
As we draw closer, the adrenaline in my veins matches the thundering beat of Geralt’s hooves.
Movement.
The screen door swings open.
Thank fuck.
Jamie barrels down the steps, his arms pumping fast as his gangly form hits the gravel path.
He’s safe.
The weight pressing against my chest eases.
He’s unharmed.
“Uncle Jack!” The warm breeze snatches his words and delivers them to me.
His relief mirrors my own, as do his wide eyes.
This kid means the world to me.
In truth, he’s the main reason I chose to stay after losing my dad.
“Jamie.” On shaking legs, I dismount. “You’re okay.” I tug him close, embracing him tightly, gratitude flooding me.
He’s shaking and gripping me.
Geralt stands by, a comforting presence, his chestnut coat glistening with sweat. Reaching out without releasing Jamie, who takes a long, shuddery breath, I stroke Geralt’s mane.
He’s done good.
“Hey.” I dot a kiss on top of Jamie’s dirty-blond hair, the same colour mine was at his age, but I lost all traces of gold by the time I turned sixteen.
Leaning back, Jamie’s wide eyes meet mine.
“You good?” I search his face, trying to see how he really is. His face is flushed, his eyes a little watery, but there are no tear tracks down his cheeks.
He straightens and steps out of my hold but remains close enough to touch.
