Fractured Sky (Tattered & Torn #5)(3)

There were a number of horses that I rode on my family’s ranch, nestled in the mountains of eastern Oregon. Far more that I trained myself. I tried to give them all love and attention—long rides as often as possible and plenty of treats. But only one was truly mine.

She was the first horse I’d bought with the money I’d made working the ranch. It was a little piece of independence when every sliver was hard-won. I didn’t take any for granted: each first and bit of freedom. Paycheck. Bank account. Post office box. My apartment over the barn.

They wouldn’t seem like much to most people, but most people didn’t have a family who had been through what mine had. It was impossible not to hold on too tightly when you almost lost someone. So, I’d had to fight for each little freedom. And every one represented a carefully fought battle.

I unlatched the gate to the pasture, my gaze moving across the dips and rolls of the field. It caught on that familiar coat. The mare’s markings had called me to her ten years ago. She’d been just two years old, and I knew it was meant to be.

Most of her coloring was that of dark bay, but the pattern across her hind end revealed her true heritage: Appaloosa, through and through. That white with dark spots had been a sucker punch to the gut. A reminder of the darkest moments of my life. But more than that, a remembrance of the one piece of hope I’d had.

That fractured sky. The rain that had given me the water I’d so desperately needed. After I’d been rescued and was in the hospital, I’d overheard the doctor talking to my parents. She’d said that she didn’t think I would’ve made it another twenty-four hours. And that was when I knew the truth: The sky had saved me.

And Everly. The daughter of the man who had taken me. She’d snuck out and ridden through the night to the sheriff’s station to help me make my way home. I’d never be able to repay her for what they’d given me—her or the sky. But now, Ev was a part of our family, something that would be official in a matter of months when she married Hayes.

I did what I could to show my gratitude. Helped her at the animal sanctuary she’d built on the land that had once been her family’s. Tried to say yes when she and Hayes invited me for dinner. It wasn’t much, but it was what I could give.

I had no way of repaying the sky. I tipped my face up to it, letting the sun warm my skin. I felt the vibrations of hooves against the ground but kept my eyes closed, soaking in the heat. A muzzle nosed my shoulder.

My hand found the mare’s cheek before I opened my eyes. Pulling off my hat, I dropped my head to hers, our foreheads touching. “Hey, Sky.”

She blew air out of her nostrils in greeting.

“How would you feel about a ride?”

I swore her eyes sparked in excitement, and I couldn’t help my smile. Hooking the lead rope to her halter, I started for the gate. “You’re gonna need a good groom.”

Sky looked as if she’d taken a roll in a patch of mud. Those patches were too plentiful to avoid this time of year. Spring in Wolf Gap could be unpredictable. You could have sun like this one day and snow the next. It made for mud city anywhere the snow or rain gathered. But that made Sky as happy as could be.

Movement caught my eye. My mom unhooked the gate and held it open for us. “Where are you two headed?”

I didn’t miss the lines of tension around her mouth as she asked. Most would’ve, but I’d become an expert in human behavior. In reading their movements and expressions. It was my first line of defense. I never wanted to miss the mean or unstable again.

That awareness was both a blessing and a curse. I felt safer, but I never missed just how much my kidnapping affected the people I loved. How much it weighed on their shoulders, even after all this time.

That familiar gnawing sensation took root in my belly, and I focused on the ground instead of my mother. “Just for a trail ride.”

Mom shut the gate behind Sky and me, latching it back into place. “Want some company?”

She always offered—every single time. My skin itched as if it were too tight for my body. “Maybe next time.”

My mom worried her bottom lip. “How long will you be gone?”

Annoyance flickered to life as my grip on the lead rope tightened. “Not sure.” I started walking towards the barn. If I didn’t move, the panic that came with the feeling of being hemmed in would grab hold. Even now, my fingers fluttered against my thigh. Stretching and flexing, then taking up a rapid tapping.

The staccato movement helped to keep things in check. I’d learned to hold tight to the things that helped. But the greatest balm for everything churning inside me was the thing I didn’t have nearly enough of—solitude.

“Did you have lunch?”

My mom’s voice cut through my swirling thoughts. I let out a breath as I kept walking. “In my saddlebags.”

Her gaze went sharp, and that telltale furrow appeared between her brows. “I don’t think you should be riding without eating. The sun’s bright today. You could faint. Fall off Sky, and we’d have no idea where you were.”

The movement of my fingers picked up its pace. I clenched and flexed my hand to keep from screaming. As if at twenty-seven years old, I didn’t know when I needed to eat. I knew hunger better than she ever would. Instead of biting her head off, though, I stayed quiet.

So often, silence was the best gift I could give my family. Biting my tongue and staying out of the way. Erasing the reminder of the thing that had marked each of them in such different ways.