Page 2 of Undone

My focus was on the mare. As I examined the leg closely, I checked for swelling along the tendons and joints. It wasn’t great, but I’d seen much worse.

“Looks like a sprain,” I said, keeping my tone neutral, letting the words land with little emphasis. “Nothing too serious, but she’s going to need rest. No riding for a while. I’ll wrap it and give you something for the inflammation. It’s straightforward—no need for an X-ray.”

Mary sighed in relief, and Ed nodded, his tension easing. “We can manage that. How long until she’s back to normal?”

“Depends on how she heals,” I replied, reaching over to grab a roll of bandages. “A couple weeks at least, maybe more. I’ll stop by when I’m back next week to check her progress.”

Ed opened his mouth, ready to ask more, but he closed it again and nodded instead. “We appreciate it. I know you’d probably rather be with Gracie before you leave town, so… thank you.”

I glanced to him, giving him a curt nod.

I wrapped the mare’s leg with firm, steady hands, careful not to meet their gazes for too long. The less talking, the better. They didn’t need me to soothe them with words—they needed action.

Results.

That’s what I was good at.

Once the wrap was secure, I took a step back, my fingers tracing the edges of the bandage to make sure it held. I wiped my hands on my worn jeans, the grit of dirt rough against my palms. My gaze flicked to the mare one last time as she shifted cautiously on her injured leg.

“She’ll be fine as long as you follow the plan. Call me if anything changes.”

Ed gave me a grateful nod, glancing over at his wife. “We will.”

I grabbed my supplies and turned to leave, giving the mare one last pat on the neck. “I’ll see myself out.”

Mary called out as I walked toward the barn door, “Thank you. Really.”

I lifted a hand in acknowledgment but didn’t look back. There was no need for more conversation.

The heavy door creaked as I pushed it open, stepping out into the fading late afternoon light. As I made my way back to the truck, the exhaustion of the day settled in. I tossed my kit onto the passenger seat and climbed into the driver’s side.

I turned the key in the ignition and pulled away, the ranch fading behind me as the sun cast long shadows across the fields. My mind wandered back to Gracie as the road stretched out in front of me. No matter how long the day was, how many calls I made, it always circled back to her.

I always couldn’t wait to get home.

My mood lifted the moment I turned down the driveway and saw her little pink bike propped against the porch steps.

I parked in the driveway and killed the engine.

Stepping inside, I found Gracie in the corner, hunched over a coloring book, her tongue poking out in concentration. Markers were scattered in all directions, her strokes fast and messy, completely absorbed in her world.

My dad sat with his reading glasses resting low on his nose, and his ever-present mustache twitching. Gracie glanced up first, her eyes lighting up the second she saw me.

“Daddy!” she squealed, jumping to her feet and running toward me.

I barely had time to drop my kit before she barreled into me, wrapping her small arms around my waist. The force of it almost knocked me off balance as my hands came down to ruffle her hair. The wild, wavy strands tangled in my fingers.

She always reminded me of the photos of my mom when she was young—the same golden waves, bright and untamed. My own dark hair was a stark contrast to theirs, as if they belonged to a world filled with light that I couldn’t quite touch.

“Hey, G,” I murmured.

I set her down and crouched to her level. Her face was smudged with marker, a few freckles dotted across her nose.

“Were you good for Papa?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! We had pizza, and Grandpa let me havetwosodas!” She held up two fingers, her grin showing the gap where her front teeth were missing.

My dad shrugged from his chair, a half smirk on his face. “Don’t look at me. She talked me into it.”

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