Page 126 of Burn the Wild

“Fantastic,” she says, gesturing to the baby’s breath in her hair. “We made flower crowns and cowboy bouquets.”

“Sounds fun.” I tilt my head. She’s pale and breathing heavily. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she chirps. “This is my horse, Winslow,” she says, approaching the massive buttercream horse.

I hang back. “He’s beautiful.”

She smiles kindly, dropping the saddle to the ground. “You can pet him.”

“I don’t want to get too close,” I say, touching my wrists. All summer I’ve been careful. “My bracelets.”

“He’s a kitten. Really.”

I edge closer, but not because of the horse. “Ruby, are you sure you’re okay?”

Flinching, she rubs her chest. A motion I’ve seen before.

Oh no.

Her eyes flutter and she grabs for something to catch herself on, but there’s only air.

Frantic, my gaze scans her surroundings. She could hit the fence. Fall beneath the horses. Hurt herself.

I rush toward her, fast. My bangles jingle.

Winslow rears up.

And I scream.

Screams echo across the pasture.

The ranch goes as silent as a funeral home.

From my place in the garage, I watch in horror as Winslow’s hooves come up. Flailing, sharp, deadly.

Watch as both Ruby and Reese hit the ground.

Ruby doesn’t move.

Blood howls in my ears as I sprint across the pasture. From every direction, someone’s coming. Charlie from the barn. Davis, the lodge.

Then, chaos.

“Ruby!” Charlie roars, his voice full of fear. He shoots in front of his wife, pulling her off the ground and into his arms.

Her eyes flutter and she comes to.

“I’m okay,” she whispers, confined against his broad chest.

I grab Reese, struggling to get my breathing under control. “Birdie, are you okay?”

She nods, her mossy green eyes full of tears. “I’m sorry,” she says, hands gripping my shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

Holding the reins, Davis steadies Winslow.

Charlie whips to Reese. His eyes are frigid. “Those fucking bracelets,” he growls.

Reese pales.

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