Page 59 of Wild Eyes
“If that was your best move, the ladies would be disappointed. No matter how big it is.”
Usually, I’d smile at that, but I drop her gaze and peek back up. “I’m sorry. I’ll replace it.”
She scoffs and waves me off. “No chance. You challenged me. Now I need to prove I can go without it for a week.”
“You can. Might even like it.”
Her head tilts. “Might even be good for me.” She nibbles on her bottom lip as her eyes slice over to Copper. “What are you up to?”
I hike a thumb back over my shoulder. “Brushing my horse.”
“What’s his name?”
“Copper.”
She eyes him speculatively before reaching forward to slide her hand down over his neck. “Is he what got you into this?” She looks around us, gesturing to the barn with her eyes.
“Yeah. My parents heard horses were good for keeping kids out of trouble. And it worked.” My head wobbles. “Mostly.”
Her fingers trail through his mane as she asks, “What do you mean mostly?”
“I mean, my new challenge was sticking the ride on the toughest, wildest horses I could find. Got my ass dumped in the dirt enough times that I learned I couldn’t muscle a horse into being a willing partner. Started learning real training strategies to bring them around and got hooked. Went away and worked the odd cattle ranch. Performance horses. But ultimately, I wanted to be here and not on the road. I’m not interested in working cattle, and the allure of riding for show is lost on me. I like the simplicity of starting the young ones. Building that foundation. Seeing them flourish. It’s something new and exciting every day, but it’s good, honest work too. I love what I do.”
She stares at me blankly for a few beats. Then, “That must feel incredible. To love what you do like that.”
“You don’t like what you do?”
“I think, like you, I love the simplicity of it. Of singing. Of figuring out a song and mastering it. The emotion that goes into taking words and making them into song. But more and more…the allure of singing for show is just…gone.”
I nod along, unsure what to say to that. It’s not for me to tell her how to handle it anyway. It just seems tragic to me that everyone around her has managed to ruin something that once brought her joy. “Wanna try?” I reach the brush out to her. “Horses are good for the soul.”
Skylar hesitates. She’s not an especially short woman, but she looks small right now.
“You don’t have to. You can go do something else. I’ve just always found brushing horses to be kind of therapeutic. But you’re welcome in the house, you know. Anywhere on the property.”
Her head bobs slowly. “This is where I want to be.”
“I thought you wanted to be alone.”
She hits me with the softest smile before focusing on Copper. “I was for a few hours. It was… Well, it was a learning experience. Turns out I don’t really know how to be alone. Being quiet with someone else sounds nice, though.”
Her admission makes me sad. For both her and me. Because I know that feeling all too well.
Loneliness.
She takes the brush with a wobbly smile and steps past me toward Copper.
Wordlessly, I grab another brush and join her.
We spend the next few hours grooming every horse in the barn. We don’t talk. She watches what I do with each type of brush and replicates my motions.
It’s the kind of companionship I crave. It’s intimate without even trying.
It’s one of the most peaceful afternoons I’ve ever enjoyed.
After a week of having the fridge and pantry cleaned out by Emmy and Ollie, I decided it’s time for a restock. I push my grocery cart up and down the aisles, restocking with all of their favorites so that I’m ready for their return. Head down to double check my list as I round the corner, I hear the clink of metal hitting metal.
“Shit, sorry,” I mutter as I look up to find Skylar right in front of me, pushing a cart of her own, face partially hidden behind her Sparkly Turquoise Unicorns team hat.
