“No, I know that. I’m just glad nobody else was there to see it, because someone would’ve ratted you out to Jenn.”
He wasn’t wrong there. We might all be adults, but we were still siblings and we’d stock up on all the ammunition we might ever need to use in a pinch against each other.
I hadn’t even gone out of cell phone range, but that wouldn’t matter. Not to Mom.
“Any idea where Russ might be?” I asked him as I patted Humphrey one more time and made my way out of the paddock.
“He went to see the babies the last I saw him,” Mal said and grabbed a lead rope from a hook on the barn wall.
We used to leave them on the fence until some of the horses decided it was a fun game messing with them and accidentally learned to untie knots later.
“Okay. Can you take—”
“Megara? Yeah. That’s what I was about to do.” He patted my shoulder in passing, and in his usual style, didn’t push for answers even though he’d seen me have some sort of an emotional whatever and dash off on my horse.
“Thanks. She needs basic groundwork today. Keep an eye on her front left leg, see if she still favors it.”
“Will do.” He saluted me and walked off to gather the filly that was one of our rescue cases. She already had a new home waiting for her, which was great.
I took an ATV and rode to the broodmare barn. It was quiet there as usual, and for once I was glad that Crew was somewhere other than in his office.
I walked through the barn and out the back, finding Russ leaning on the fence as he watched a couple of foals try to play with each other while their mothers grazed nearby.
I leaned my forearms on the fence, mirroring his pose like I’d been doing since I was little.
I didn’t know where to start, but he waited me out—another familiar thing between us.
“What do you think about Richard Buchanan?” I asked without taking my eyes off the foals.
Russ hummed. From the corner of my eye, I could see him flip his toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other with practiced ease.
He’d gotten old, my best friend. He was doing okay, but I knew that he was only going to slow down more and at some point we’d need to have some hard conversations with him as a family. Nobody joked about him doing too much and croaking somewhere on a pasture while fixing fence, because it was a possibility. Not yet, but eventually.
“I think he’s a rat bastard,” Russ finally murmured. “Something sleazy about that one. Always has been.”
I snorted softly. “Yeah. You could definitely say that.”
“What’d he do?”
The quiet, even question didn’t surprise me. I knew Russ had picked up on my mood when I’d come back from delivering Richard his horse three years ago.
I gave Russ a summary, never looking at him, but seeing his jaw clench in my periphery.
“What happened with Cahill?” he asked when I was done with the story.
I snorted again. “He asked if he could kiss me.”
Russ turned his head for the first time. “Was it welcome?”
Shrugging, I replied, “Yeah.” I glanced at him, then looked away again. “Until he called me pretty.”
He huffed. “I take it you didn’t stay to explain?”
“No. I reacted like… like he suddenly turned into Richard and bolted.”
“What’s the word they use these days? When you’re reminded of something bad?”
For a moment I wasn’t sure what he was asking, then it came to me. “Triggering. He triggered me.”
