Page 53 of Knot Her Cowboys
“The pile of fucked-up things I have to sort through might be too big.” She sighed. “Sometimes I feel like I’m a cabinet where all the dishes have tipped over and I’m just desperately holding the door closed so they don’t crash to the floor and destroy everything I’ve built.”
I purred softly, sorting through her confession. “That’s actually a really good analogy for healing, though.”
“It is?”
“Consider this: If you never open that door, you can never use that cabinet again. It’s something you’ll spend your whole life trying to keep shut, assuming it will prevent a mess. But the thing is, if you open it up, sure you’ll lose some of the dishes, but I bet you’ll catch more than you think. You can put them back safely, and start the cleanup on everything that breaks.”
“So I should fling open all my fucked-up insides even if the dishes are gonna slice me to ribbons?”
Her question was muffled against my chest. She felt so perfect in my arms. Maybe it would be a long and messy journey, but if she was open to help, I was open to assisting.
“The counterintuitive thing about healing is that it can often be as painful as what caused the injury. I’m not going to make any claims that it will be easy or pain-free, but I’d really like you to be able to use that cabinet again one day.”
Riley burrowed harder against me. “Why are you so good at this?”
“Iama therapist. Kind of comes with the territory.”
An omega squeak of distress snuck out. “Cashy.”
Cash trotted right over like a summoned pup, trapping Riley between us. “Better?”
She nodded, purring up a storm as she stood in silence.
Tater Tot whacked her in the arm with his nose, perturbed that he wasn’t getting the same amount of fuss.
“Oh my goodness,” Riley said with a laugh, turning to the horse. “Five seconds of no attention? You’re gonna wither away to nothing.”
Riley extracted herself from our arms and kissed her way from his nose to forehead, Tater Tot lowering his head successively with each kiss so she could reach.
“You know, Ithinkhe might like you.” Cash chuckled.
“Because he’s the best boy.” Forehead to forehead with Tater Tot, Riley rested, our sweet therapy horse more than content with his head hug. “I can’t decide if this would be easier or harder if Cash and I hadn’t bonded.”
“Care to elaborate?” I asked.
“I obviously still wouldn’t be going to Germany either way, but I might’ve already bolted. Running always feels safer than sticking around.”
“That’s understandable, though. Is there anything in particular we can do to help you feel safer here?”
“Fuck if I know. Shotgun perimeter?”
The suggestion caught me off guard and I let out a laugh. “We probably have enough on the property we could if you really wanted. Everything is fenced for the horses, we have a gate to get in that’s closed overnight, and a couple dozen trail cams are scattered over the property.”
“Security system on the house?”
“Not one that’s often used, but it’s there,” said Cash.
“Would you feel better if we started using it regularly?” I asked.
“Probably.” She stroked her hands down Tater Tot’s neck. “Need a nice guard horse.”
“Tater Tot won’t help you there,” I told her. “You’d want Grizzy for that.”
“Grizzy?”
“Griselda is our rescued mule. She’s retired now, but still feisty.”
“Can I go meet her?”
