Page 32 of Rough Ride with the Grumpy Cowboy
They hesitate, but Duncan is smart enough to snap out of it and drag Kipp out with him.
“It’s okay, girl. I’m here,” I whisper as I pull her head onto my lap.
There’s nothing I can say or do to ease her suffering. All I can do is be here with her and hope the vet gets here quickly.
Unfortunately, two hours later, I’m still in the same place. My back is killing me from being in this position too long, but I refuse to move. Lilly is in a lot more pain than I am, so I suck it up for her.
I hear movement outside the stall, and I look up, hoping that the vet is finally here, only to be met with the last person I want seeing this gruesome sight.
“What are you doing here?” I grit out, trying to rein in my frustration at her presence.
I don’t want her to see this. It’s too dreadful.
“I came to... is she okay?” Ava asks, walking further into the stall.
“No.”
“What’s happening?”
“She’s dying.”
“I’m so—“
“Don’t say it.”
“S—“ She catches herself and bows her head in shame. “I won’t.”
She’s holding a shopping bag in hand and has a pitying look on her face that rubs me the wrong way.
“Look, Ava, I don’t have time for you. Can we do whatever brought you in here another time?” I request, even though I was the one who wanted to talk to her in the first place.
“Of course,” she nods.
Instead of leaving like I’ve asked her to, she surprises me by setting the bag away and sitting cross-legged next to me.
“What are you doing?”
“Sitting with you and her.”
“Why?”
“Because,” she answers vaguely, picking up the brush lying carelessly on the ground.
She starts brushing Lilly’s mane and coat, sneaking glances at me every couple of seconds. It’s unsettling having her here, but I don’t have the energy to argue and chase her away. She has this stubborn look in her eyes that lets me know it’ll be a losing battle if I try, so I don’t even bother.
She starts humming a familiar tune, and I realize it’s a song from her first album. Before I can stop myself, a low growl escapes my lips, and her movement as well as the humming falters.
“Do you want me to stop?” she whispers, looking scared.
Do I really scare her this much?
I shake my head no, and she hesitates for a moment but quietly keeps on humming and eventually transitions to singing softly. She has an exquisite voice—no wonder she has gained millions of fans all over the globe who adore her and her music.
But seeing her now, seated on the ground with me, singing to a dying horse, one wouldn’t know that she’s a world-famous pop artist. It’ll take an intervention from the heavens for me to admit this, but deep down I’m glad she’s here, and from Lilly’s improved breathing, I know she is too.
13
AVA
