Page 27 of Fall With Me (Sugarland Creek)

It’s our routine.

“He’s used to doing things at certain times. You’ve screwed everything up.”

“He is oryouare?” He arches a brow, pursing his lips. “I think the words you’re lookin’ for arethank you. So you’re welcome,Little Devil. Now you have an extra hour to train or maybe go to The Lodge and have some breakfast.”

The retreat’s main building is where guests check in or sign up for activities. They offer a full buffet for all three meals that extends to staff members, too. I’ve been told I’m free to help myself to it, but I’ve never been a big breakfast eater. I’ll have yogurt, toast, or drink a protein shake before I leave the house. Anything more than that, and I’ll feel nauseous while I’m jogging or riding.

I pop my hip, cross my arms, and then glare at him. “Let me guess, you’re going there to eat now?”

His smirk deepens as if he’s not surprised I drew that conclusion. “I could. Wanna carpool on my dirt bike? You can sit in my lap.”

Rolling my eyes at his lame attempt to get me to go, I push around him to get closer to Ranger.

“No. You’re not supposed to drive that ’round the horses, anyway.”

“As long as I don’t rev the engine near the trainin’ center, it’s fine.”

“Well, either way, my answer is no.” I put my back to him as I grab a brush and begin at Ranger’s neck.

His arm rubs against my shoulder before I hear the click of the stall lock and a few knuckle taps across the wood. “If you change your mind, I have an extra helmet.”

“Hard pass to smashin’ my brains across the pavement,” I retort.

He bellows out a laugh. “Says the woman who literally risks her life each day being a barrel racer, but yeah, sure, better not risk ridin’ on a dirt bikewitha helmet. God forbid you actually take the stick outta your ass and have some fun.”

My jaw drops, and I whip around toward him, but he’s already walking away.

God, I hate him.

I arrive home at exactly a quarter after four. The fifteen-minute drive from the ranch gives me just enough time to process my day.

After my lessons with Noah, I gave Ranger a break while I ate lunch in my truck. Sometimes I’ll take a walk and find a place to sit and eat, but today I wasn’t up for it. Afterward, I took Ranger on a trail ride where I focused on balance and letting him guide me without holding the reins. To reduce the risk of injury or hoof issues, I only take him on one in particular that weaves around the retreat pond. With the heavy horse-riding traffic, the ground is mostly flat, which leaves the trail wide open. We’ll usually run into Wilder and Waylon, who lead the trail rides for the retreat guests and stop to give quick hellos while their group passes.

Ranger and I ended the day with a final hour of technique practice and lunging before I groomed him one last time. He’s due to see Fisher—Noah’s husband and the ranch’s farrier—to get new shoes and his hooves trimmed. It’s a six-hour drive, so I’ll bring the horse trailer with living quarters so we can stay overnight.

My parents take turns traveling with me on my weekend trips since my aunt Phoebe lives with us and can’t be left alone for long periods at a time. My grandma comes over if they both have to leave the house for a few hours, but otherwise, either my parents or I are home with her.

Aunt Phoebe experienced a psychotic break a decade ago after going through back-to-back traumatic events and hasn’t been able to safely live on her own. She struggled with her mental health before everything happened, but then after, she resorted to self-harming. When her mind escapes reality, she sees or hears things that aren’t real and gets confused easily. She went into treatment after her husband left. Since she’s my mom’s sister, Mom wanted her home with us where we could shower her with love and make sure she continued getting care.

She still gets medical help and biweekly therapy sessions, but witnessing how much she’s changed from the Aunt Phoebe I knew as a child is a constant reminder of what happened to our family.

It’s not fair how one event or person can ruin lives and change ours forever.

“Hi, sweetie. How was your day?” Mom beams as soon as I walk through the door, the aromas of pepper and sausage hitting my nose.

She’s at the stove, preparing dinner, right on time.

I shrug, removing my boots, and then set them on the mat. “Ranger was off his game today.”

More like Landen screwed up our routine.

“Sorry to hear that. Horses can have bad days just like humans. I’m sure he’ll be better tomorrow.” She smiles at me over her shoulder as she continues stirring country gravy, a family favorite.

“I hope so. Are you or Dad comin’ with me this weekend?” I ask, walking to the sink to wash my hands so I can set the table.

“I can’t, sweetie. I’m sorry. Aunt Phoebe is havin’ withdrawal symptoms since her doctor changed one of her prescriptions and it’s makin’ her go to the bathroom every hour. She won’t want me to leave.”

“Okay, no problem. I’m sure Dad will record every second of it for you, anyway.” I grin at how supportive he’s been throughout the years. He’s always in the front row with his phone out and cheering with the crowd. My family owns the local feed mill store and Dad starts his day at five a.m. each day to be home in the evenings and have off on the weekends.

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