Change Rein (Willow Bay Stables #1)(39)

I remember his words as the nurse leaves the room, and once again, I wait for a crippling sadness that never comes. Not that I wished for the devastation, but I expected it to be there.

“Bridge.”

Drawing my eyes to the door, I see my daddy’s worn face. “Hi, Daddy.”

He enters the room slowly, followed by my siblings. Last is the other half of me. After circling the foot of my bed, he folds his massive frame over the bed, resting his forehead on mine.

“I missed you.” His tears fall onto my cheeks.

I rest my palm—the one without the IV—on the side of his handsome face. “I missed you too, cowboy.”

The weight on his shoulders seems terribly heavy as he runs his thumb over my lower lip. “I love you, London.” His lips brush mine in a sweet kiss in front of my family before he settles down into one of the chairs next to my bed.

Blowing him a kiss, I try to ease the tension in the room. “You better, because I love you.”

Daddy takes the seat on the other side of my bed. His face seems so strained, and it’s obvious they know.

“I’m so sorry,” he says.

“It’s okay.” I lace my fingers through his.

When he looks at my hands, the softness in his heart bleeds through the rough exterior most people only ever get to know. “You just love it so much.”

“I love to ride.” Tears beg to be let free as I squeeze Daddy’s hand. “But it’s always been about more than competing for me. It’s about feeling.” I smile at him. “It’s about feeling like she’s with me. Momma always told us riding isn’t about just being in the saddle. It’s about everything that gets you there. That’s what I love. That’s what reminds me of her. Not a medal or a ribbon, but the feel of a horse’s coat under my hands or the sound of their hooves on the ground. I have passion for the sport, and it will break a part of me to lose that, but the passion I can’t live without is the horses themselves.”

A tear slides down my Daddy’s rough cheek.

“I didn’t lose that. Now, my heart just has a little extra room to love them is all.”

“She’d be so proud of you,” he whispers.

“Remember, Daddy. Our hearts have to break a little sometimes. How else would we make room for all that love?”

Standing up, he brushes the hair off my face. “Of all the angels on Earth, my sweet girl, you have to be the strongest.” After kissing my forehead, he excuses himself from the room.

“You could teach!” Aurora brightens. “I mean, not like I do for volunteering. I mean like really teach. You could train people.”

“I could.” I smile at her.

Owen’s hand squeezes my ankle through the blankets at the foot of my bed. “You can still ride, Bridge. It’s just gonna look a little different from now on is all.”

“I love you guys,” I tell them. “Would you give me just a few minutes alone with Branson?”

They take turns giving me delicate hugs and kisses on my cheek before shutting the door behind them.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, running one of my hands through Branson’s hair.

“I’m just . . .” His voice trails off. “I’m scared to tell you.”

“To tell me what?” My hand moves down the side of his face before falling back down to the bed.

His face is a war of emotions. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen play on his features. “That this”—he chokes on the lump in his throat as he looks over me—“is all because of me.”

My body reacts before I have time to stop it, and in sitting up so quickly, my injury protests. I wince against the pain, and he frowns. When he opens his mouth to speak, I shake my head.

“This is not your fault.”

“It is.” His head hangs. “You don’t understand.”

My heart rate picks up. His tone makes me anxious, as I have no idea how he thinks an accident like this could be his fault.

“Make me understand, Branson.”

He begins to pace at the foot of my bed. It’s a nervous habit of his I’ve noticed during our time together. I don’t push him. He’ll speak when he’s ready, and not a moment sooner.

“It wasn’t a coincidence”—he exhales—“that I came to Willow Bay.” Turning his back to me, he rests a hand against the hospital wall and his body begins to shake. “I saw you everywhere. I tried to write it off as infatuation and let it go, but you plagued me. You were on my TV screen, in my paper, and then I read that article . . .”

I wince. The article still haunts me, but I’m learning to let it go.

“I wanted to kill that pompous idiot for the things he said about you. Even a simple mind could see your passion wasn’t weakness.”

My mind ping-pongs, and I stumble in an effort to say something during his pause. “So, you knew of me before you came to Willow Bay? That’s not terribly odd, Branson. Millions of people I’ve never met know of me for the very same reason, and that hardly justifies you being responsible for an accident.”

“I came to Willow Bay, because of you.”

What?

“I came to Willow Bay for you.”

My palms start to sweat. My hands start to shake, my heart praying. “What about the fire? Your barn?”