Page 58 of The Crush
“Hold on a second,” I tell her, so tense I feel like I could crawl out of my skin. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“It’ll be easier for me to get down there, and if we don’t get her out soon, she’ll be impossible to pull out,” she argues, her expression determined. “Let me help. I know what I’m doing.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t,” I tell her quickly. “I just…I just need a second.”
Go. Go. Go.
There’s that phantom sensation at my hip again, the sound of gunfire in my ears, of yelling. So much yelling.
I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. I just—I just want to go home.
Go now.
“Danny?” I look at Isabel again, see the worry spread across her face. “What’s wrong?”
Forty-Three
Isabel
That night in the kitchen. Last week in Austin. Yesterday in the parking lot. And right now.
Even though I’d asked him what was wrong, I already know, because nothing else makes him look quite like this. Posture hunched, breathing fast, eyes that alternate between scanning every detail of his surroundings and closing tight.
I murmur his name again as I take a step closer, but he shakes his head. “I’m fine.”
I hesitate, torn between where to help first, before I reason that the best thing is to get us all out of here as quickly as possible. Turning back toward the river, I start to negotiate my way down the dry crumbling bank with my rope while I hear Daniel say my name and come up behind me.
“Bring the horses over,” I tell him, hoping that giving him a task will help. “And toss me your rope.”
I hear him curse, but he does it, and I catch it before I keep going.
Now that I’m closer, I can see the little brown heifer stuck up to her knees in the mud, likely one of last year’s calves that thankfully hasn’t had a chance to reach her full size yet. She’s also tired enough that she lets me get close without much fuss. Sinking into themud beside her, I secure one rope around her front and the other around her back end.
I stumble more than once as I climb back out, gracelessly making my way up the bank. Daniel’s hand is already extended at the top, helping me up the rest of the way before he takes one of the ropes and secures it to his saddle as I do the same.
After checking to make sure I’m ready, he lets out a high-pitched whistle, and both horses start tugging, slowly lifting the heifer up and out with thankfully minimal effort. When her hooves reaches solid ground, she gives us an annoyed huff as if we hadn’t just saved her life.
A few minutes later, I set her loose back in the east pasture, caked in mud but otherwise no worse for wear. I watch long enough to see her rejoin her herd before I head back to where Daniel is repairing the gap in the fence.
“I’m sorry if I made you upset,” I say, approaching him slowly from behind. “Are you okay?”
He stops twisting the barbed wire secure for a moment, long enough that I know he’s heard me before he finishes up, turns, and pulls off his gloves. “You didn’t upset me. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m…”
I step closer and he wraps his arms around me despite the fact that I, too, am covered in mud. His hand drifts up and down my back, soothing me when I know he’s really the one who needs comfort. I turn my head to rest my cheek against his beating heart.
“Did it…” I start, almost losing my nerve, but then force it out. “Being out here made you think of something that happened while you were gone, didn’t it?”
He stills, saying nothing, but I can hear his heart beat faster.
“Is it the dark?”
He sighs, his hand starting to move again over my back. “And the water.”
That night by the water.That’s what he said in Austin. After I found him in the shower. “What happened by the water?”
He doesn’t answer, and I’m not sure how much more to pry, but I can’t resist at least offering. “Maybe it would help if you talked about it? If you want to tell me—”
“I’ve already put too much on you, bonita,” he says, pulling away to gather up the horses from where they’re grazing next to us. “You don’t need that, too.”
