Page 74 of We Redeemed the Rain

Something about her loving on the horses…a knot formed in the pit of my stomach, tightening until my whole chest cavity felt like it might burst. Whatever happened made me feel breathless as I stood there, watching her babify a one thousand pound animal.

Bea hadn’t had animal access as a child, but watching her, you’d think she was an old pro.

My eyes worked downward in appreciation of her. Obviously, she was beautiful. But more than that—she was radiant. And it was downright impossible not to stare. Whatever existed on the inside,streamed out in every conceivable way—eyes, smile, body language, tone. Captivating.

There was plenty of light now. Honestly, she was the majority of it. All white with a streak of yellow around her dark hair. Shining and bright against the dawn.

A ray all her own.

I looked away, the clenching in my gut growing to an unbearable level. What was I thinking? I couldn’t notice her that way.

Finally, she moved away from Praline and on to the Holmes’ horses. She asked for their names.

“The blonde palomino is Clemmy and the black is Moonshine.”

She pointed to the one munching on her breakfast. “And this one?”

My heart thumped in dread, heat radiating up my neck. I lifted my hat and ran my hand through the top of my hair, lightly tugging it. “It’s, uh, it’s…it’s Sprinkles.”

She froze and turned to me. I didn’t look, but felt her gaze like a searing iron.

Bea repeated each name. “Clemmy. Moonshine. And Praline and Sprinkles?”

“Yep.” The way she grouped their names, her questioning tone…she put the pair together.

Huhis all she said.

Blast the sun for coming out, I knew my face was red, and I wouldn’t be able to hide it. I turned toward the truck. “Let’s go.”

TWENTY-THREE

Bea

Praline and Sprinkles?

Thank goodness Tag waved us to the truck, because I couldn’t handle it. Immediate tears pooled in my eyes. Was there a chance those names were coincidental? Was he really naming horses after me? Afterus? My mind wouldn’t let me accept it. It was too sweet and pure to be real.

His pets.

Big, worthless, pets costing him money.

I frantically sniffed as we approached the truck.

I had to be reading into things. Sprinkles had dots on her back. He might have named her that because she kind of looked sprinkled with dirt or something. That had to be it. No way he named his horses…afterus.

Something in my head hit a brick wall. My heels dug in, refusing to draw obvious conclusions. There was no possible way he missed me asdesperatelyas I’d missed him. If I let myself spiral that direction, I would get hurt. And it would be my own fault for making mountains out of molehills and reading between nonexistent lines.

Plus, he’s the one who stopped writing me. Not the other wayaround. If he cared enough to name a pair of horses after our friendship, why did he stop sending letters?

It felt like all the oxygen in the Texas atmosphere had drained. My breaths were light and heavy, his letters squeezing around my heart so tight I felt lightheaded.

I didn’t come to Meadowbrook because of…old feelings or anything like that, right?

No. I shook off the thought.Of course I didn’t.

When I was a teenager, I did maybe have a tiny little crush on him, but it wasn’t anything serious. Nothing Jackie liked to pretend it was. His words gave me butterflies and that wasall. I might have checked the mail every day for a year after he stopped writing, but eventually, I made peace with the end of us. Our relationship was destined to peter off because nothing truly lasting could’ve bloomed from words on a page.

Even though I’d always cared for him as a friend, our letters changed in the final year. Our worlds were imploding. His and mine simultaneously. When Peter got his leukemia diagnosis, I sobbed over a letter. The pages puckered and the words smudged in the places I’d swiped off tears.

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