Page 75 of Relentless

“It took me a while to learn,” Maeve responded. “Roping, riding, shooting —” she listed. “They aren’t skills you just pick up overnight.”

“I’m up for everything,” Oakleigh affirmed. “But I’ll never be comfortable shooting anything.”

“And why’s that?” Harper loudly interjected.

“Because guns scare me, Mom,” Oakleigh replied with a touch of bitterness in her voice.

Harper audibly scoffed. “I’ve never seen you afraid of anything,” she attested. “Even when you should have been.”

Oakleigh arched an eyebrow, exchanging subtle glances with Maeve. “Thanks, Mom,” she said. “I think?”

“Really, Oakleigh,” Harper lectured, “You can’t allow fear to control you.”

Harper should have just left it there, but it was as though the woman couldn’t resist beating her argument to death.

“The habits you’ve picked up here,” she commented with a disappointed shake of her head. “I hardly recognize you anymore.”

Maeve bit her lip, suppressing a few things she wanted to say but knew she shouldn’t. Instead, she looked up to the sky and said a prayer for healing in their relationship.

The rest of the morning cattle drive went without a hitch, until the herd finally shuffled through the pasture gate. It was a temporary measure, as there wasn’t enough grass to sustain the hungry cows for long. Oakleigh pulled the gate closed with a loud metal clang, always being mindful now to secure it in place.

“Where’d she learn all this?” Harper inquired, propping her palm on the saddle horn.

Maeve smiled proudly, raising her voice so Oakleigh could hear. “She learned the hard way that open gates mean loose cows.”

Oakleigh rolled her eyes. “Not to mention angry neighbors and mud,” she exhaled. “So much mud.”

Harper appeared contemplative, pulling her gaze across the open pastures.

“You alright, Harp?” Maeve asked, this time not as concerned with her physical injuries.

Harper quietly dismounted, taking the horse by the reins. Closing her eyes, she gave the mare’s soft neck one more nuzzle.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “And if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times,” she snapped, a noticeable coarseness returning to her tone. “Don’t call me that.”

Turning on her heels, Harper led the horse across the long pasture toward the barn.

Maeve leaned on the fence rail, watching the golden sun dip behind the snowy, white mountain range.

“What’s up with her?” Oakleigh asked, stepping beside her.

“I don’t know, Oakleigh,” Maeve responded with a shake of her head. “I really don’t.”

Chapter 22

Send the Jet

Harper awoke stiff and sore once again. The fall from her horse had been harder than she wanted to admit, but her spirits felt lifted by the fresh air and long trail ride. Even the shrill cadence of Nugget the rooster couldn’t dampen her good mood.

Hobbling to the bathroom, she turned on the shower and tested the water with her fingertips. When it turned steaming hot, she stepped into the stream and let it pour over her aching joints. She pulled a white plush robe off the hook, yet another subtle gesture of kindness from Oakleigh. Slipping her arms into the soft fabric, she tied it around her middle.

Harper swiped her hand across the steamy mirror and leaned her palms on the counter, feeling no urgency to put on her makeup that day.

That’s why Oakleigh loves it here.

She had to admit she was envious of her daughter’s newfound freedom to be authentically herself.

“Maybe I’ve been too hard on her,” she voiced her intrusive thought. The words brought with them an uncomfortable wave of guilt. Pressed to distract herself, she pulled the tube of facial cleanser from her cosmetic bag and squeezed a dab into her hand. After scrubbing her skin with the bubbling soap, she took a soft washcloth from the stack and patted her face dry. Looking up at the mirror, she saw each of her flaws staring back at her.

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