Page 101 of Burn the Wild

With a deep breath, I step inside. The hay floor crunches under the soles of my slippers. “Ford?” I say softly. When there is no response, I keep searching. Finally, I find him in the last stall with the pregnant mare, Sassafras.

His head snaps up at my approach. “What’re you doing here?” The worried drawl of his voice sends shivers down my spine.

“You were on my channel,” I offer. “What’s happening?” I glance at the mare lying in a bed of hay in the stall.

He sits back on his haunches, sighs. “She’s foaling.” His hand tears through his hair. “Normally, we let them do their thing, but she’s having twins.” Frustration stains his voice.

“Is that bad?”

“It’s rare. Davis is trying to get a vet out here. But…typically, the second foal never makes it.”

My heart hitches. “Well, we can’t give up.”

Ford blows out a breath. “All we can do is wait. Let nature take its course.” He runs a broad hand down her nose. “I’m planning to stay. Sit with her.”

“I’ll stay, too. Keep you company,” I say. He looks more distressed than normal. I hate the look on his handsome face. More than anything, I just want to be here for him. And the mare.

“It might not be pretty, Birdie.”

I slip inside the stall, holding my bangles to keep them quiet. “That’s okay.”

“Then get warm.” He passes me a blanket. Watches as I cover my bare legs.

Sassafras flops over onto her side.

Ford strokes his hand down her rump, then we settle in opposite corners of the stall. I stare at his handsome face, trying hard not to let the fire burn me up inside. Maybe it’s reckless. I’ve never been in a true relationship. One I’ve chosen for myself. It was always for PR. For Gavin. For something. But the ache I have for Ford is different.

It’s also something that can never be. He is a temptation I can’t afford long-term. All we are is a train wreck going off the rails.

If I had better judgment, I’d leave. Stop sleeping with him. But the truth is, I need him.

Ever since the visit with Gavin, our conversation has been a heavy weight on my shoulders. Nothing has helped. Not swimming at night. Not ranch work. Not visiting with Ruby on her front porch. The black hole has grown. I was so hopeful here on Runaway Ranch. Hopeful it would all go away. But it hasn’t. I’m still Old Reese. Sad Reese.

The darkness presses down, hollow and stifling.

“You wanna tell me why you dislike horses, Birdie Girl?” Ford’s low drawl takes my attention.

I stare at my bangles, unable to look him in the eye. “They’re just a bad memory.”

“And you don’t like talkin’ about those?”

It’s the silence that pulls it out of me. That great gaping need to reach for a light in the dark.

I lift my head. “Have you ever you been sad, Ford?”

A crease forms between his eyebrows. “Sure.”

“Like really sad? Like a concrete body in water?”

He’s silent, but his gaze stays on mine to show me he’s listening

“You don’t have to tell me,” I say. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Ford looks to the mare, sitting motionless. Only that muscle jerking in his jaw tells me he’s thinking. After a long silence, he says, “When I played for the Renegades, I was dating a woman. Savannah. We were together for three damn years if you can believe it.”

I sit straighter and curl my legs to my chest. I always assumed Ford was a playboy, a new woman in his bed every night.

“I had this grand idea to propose on the field.” He snorts. “Bought a ring, asked her daddy, the whole damn thing. I got down on one knee and popped the question. In front of everyone.” He swallows. “She said no.”

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