Page 41 of Live for Me

Abbie Spears ripped my heart out and smashed it underneath her boot when all I did was fucking love her like she pleaded to be loved.

I gave her everything and in return, she fucking destroyed me.

I flew by Denver and the twins, my body moving with Spirit, working in tandem as we cut through the summer air. As the corral drew closer and the bunkhouse came into view, the thought of seeing her there, in the bunkhouse, was almost too much to bear. My chest ached and I knew I couldn’t see her. Not right now, at least.

I still loved her.

I still needed to protect her.

Those things would never change, but I also needed to clear my fucking head.

I slowed Spirit down, his hooves pounding on the grass. “Easy, boy,” I cooed, clicking my tongue. I stared at the door of thebunkhouse in the distance, my mind and heart at war with each other. My heart wanted to see her, despite all the pain it had been through, but my mind…fucking hell, my mind was telling me to take her back to the city and let her deal with her own mess.

I bent my head, cursing myself and pinching the bridge of my nose.

I heard the rest of the cowboys come up behind me, and I knew they would stop and ask questions.

Questions I didn’t have the answers to.

Ride, Beau.

Ride until the only things on your mind is the beauty in front of you and the horse underneath you.

My father’s words echoed in my mind, words he said to me the day after Abbie left me.

I inhaled a deep breath as Denver called out to me, getting closer and closer by the second.

I couldn’t deal with this right now.

I wasn’t fucking strong enough.

Before I could let the self-hatred seep into my blood, I yanked on the reins and turned Spirit around. “One more ride, boy. Just stick with me for one last ride,” I murmured before snapping the reins and kicking my boots.

Spirit read me, and instead of being stubborn, he actually listened, taking off, leaving the barn, the bunkhouse, the questions, the feelings, and my woman behind.

“Yo! Beau, where you going?” Lawson called out as I flew by the three of them. I didn’t give them an answer, only focused on the beauty in front of me and the horse beneath me. I headed for the mountain, running parallel to the sunset.

“Come on, boy,” I hollered. “Let’s see if we can fucking fly tonight.”

I snapped the reins once more, and as the wind whipped around me, I felt like I could breathe easier.

In the distance, an owl called out, announcing nightfall as I threw another stick into the flames, listening to the wood crack and give way to the heat as sparks drifted up to the stars. The moon was high, the stars bright, and dinner had been served. I lifted up my plate, looking over to Spirit, who was tied to the nearest tree, his face stuffed into his feeding bag, his jaw working.

With a sigh, I lifted my fork and dug in, the smoky flavor of the trout bursting across my tongue as my gut rumbled, demanding more. I never went back to the bunkhouse. Instead, I rode out to the secondary barn and grabbed my camping pack.

I always kept one in there, just in case. Had since I was boy, hiding it in the barn loft, underneath the windowsill. It was where I also kept my fishing pole and extra feed for Spirit for days like this.

Days when I felt like I was losing my mind.

Once I finished my dinner, I rose to my feet and headed to the small stream that ran down the mountain from Denver and Mason’s mom, Jane Langston’s, trail. There was a spot about three-fourths the way up the mountain where she used to take the boys and take pictures. That was her spot and eventually, it became Denver’s spot. His wife, Valerie, was trapped in that spot when this side of the mountain was set on fire a couple of years ago. Now, the mountain was healing and so were Denver and Valerie.

I got down to my haunches, my leg muscles aching as I rinsed off my plate and fork.

I had to get back soon, or Denver would send the boys out to look for me. I didn’t want to go back. I wasn’t ready to face what awaited me. The truth was, I could stay out here for days—weeks if I didn’t have to work.

Something moved in the bushes in front of me, causing me to still, my eyes snapping to the spot. I slowly set down the plate but held the fork with one hand, ready to pull out my gun with the next.

A few seconds later, a small bunny came out before spotting me and dashing back into the safety of the bush. A small chuckle came from me then as I rose to my feet, turning back to the fire, pine needles crunching under my boots. An impatient neigh came from Spirit as I sat back on the ground and scooted my camping pack behind me. With the small fire to my left, I leaned back, resting my head against the bag, and took my hat off, putting it on my chest. The stars above tinkled, the crescent moon taking up the left side of the sky, the pale glow soothing me. I put a hand underneath my head, and my chest deflated as another sigh left me.

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