Page 83 of Simply Yours

Then suddenly, she was being tossed onto Bluebell’s back, the horse beneath her shifting wildly, sensing the chaos, sensing the fear. Caitlin barely managed to stay upright, her body sagging, her fingers gripping the reins weakly.

Bluebell was Toni’s favorite, the gentlest of horses—yet now she pranced and whinnied, her hooves stamping in agitation. She knew something was wrong. Jason was beside her, his voice low and urgent as he tried to calm the animal. His hands were everywhere—adjusting her, steadying her, keeping her from slipping away completely.

Then he was behind her, his warmth solid against her back, and they were moving.

The world jolted with every hoofbeat. The pain flared with every motion. Time stretched, warping and slowing, each second dragging like molasses. She felt herself slipping, losing the battle against the fire racing through her body.

Jason held her fast.

"Jason—" Her voice cracked, barely a whisper.

"Nope. Don’t talk," he ordered, sharp, firm. But beneath it, there was something softer. Frantic.

The world blurred. Sounds faded—voices, movement, everything dimming to a distant hum. The only thing that remained was the relentless, throbbing pain and Jason. She barely noticed the hands on her, the voices that flitted in and out of her awareness, distant and unimportant. They asked her questions—urgent, desperate questions—but she couldn’t answer. Couldn’t even think. Warmth prickled up her arm, cutting through the icy edges of her pain.

Somewhere in the haze, she felt someone holding her hand.

Strong. Solid. Familiar.

She would know him anywhere.

Jason.

* * *

A slow, rhythmic beeping pulsed somewhere in the distance, a steady metronome that tethered her to consciousness. Caitlin floated somewhere between the dark abyss of sleep and the harsh sting of reality, her body sluggish and leaden, her mind sluggishly piecing itself back together. The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air, mingling with something more familiar—his scent.

Jason was here for her.

She fought against the heaviness in her limbs, wincing as awareness brought pain rushing in. Everything ached, her body bruised and battered, as if she’d been chewed up and spit out by some malevolent force. But none of it compared to the desperate, broken sigh that reached her ears. The sound cracked something deep in her chest, a raw agony that had nothing to do with her injuries.

“Hey…” she whispered, barely audible, but it carried the weight of everything she wanted to say.I’m here. I’m alive. I’m okay.Even though none of those things felt completely true.

Warmth surrounded her hand. His fingers slid over hers, strong yet trembling, his grip tightening as if anchoring himself to her presence. His touch was fire and solace, a silent vow whispered through skin-to-skin contact. Before she could fully process it, another hand found hers, gentler, trembling with unspoken emotions.

Matthew.

“God put‘butt-bells’on the‘nope-rope’for a reason, you know,” Matthew choked out, his voice thick with unshed tears.

A weak laugh barely ghosted past her lips, but even that small movement felt exhausting. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know the difference between the two men beside her. One was comfort. The other was home. She had always known it, down to the very marrow of her being.

Jason was hers.

He had been since the moment she’d looked into his eyes and seen everything—his soul, his fears, his love, just like today. Even without sight, she could read him like a well-worn book, could feel the weight of his grief pressing against her skin. He had lost too much already. His mother. His father. And now, he had nearly lost her.

The thought made her throat tighten, but she swallowed against the wave of emotion, turning her head in his direction. A small, tired smile touched her lips.

“I’m gonna be late for our date,” she whispered, voice raspy but teasing.

Jason sucked in a sharp, ragged breath, the kind that sounded like a man being shattered and barely holding himself together.

From the foot of the bed, Toni’s voice broke through the thick air. “Everyone out.”

Matthew’s fingers slipped from hers, and before she could mourn the loss of her friend’s touch, something warm and wet splashed against her skin.

A tear. His.

Then Jason moved.

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