Page 96 of Someone to Hold
The hourit takes me to find Luke is the longest sixty minutes of my fucking life.
Sometimes an eight-second ride felt like it dragged on forever, but I’d rather have Black Tornado trample me a thousand times over than the bone-deep terror of thinking about Molly’s son out in the storm.
When I finally spot Gumdrop’s tail through the deluge, they’re huddled under a tree. Thank God he kept hold of the horse’s reins instead of letting the animal go. Gumdrop could have found his way back to the barn, but I’m not sure I would have spotted Luke on his own or shouted loud enough for him to hear me over the roar of the wind. I dismount and drop Fancy’s reins, knowing she’s not going anywhere without me.
“Luke. Buddy.”
His head is down, thin arms wrapped around his legs. He’s wearing a raincoat and cowboy boots, but looks drenched to the skin, which I am, too. I don’t let myself think about how long he’s been here, the possibility of lightning strikes, or how long it would take hypothermia to set in at this temperature.
“Luke.”
I put a hand on his shoulder and he startles. I can’t tell if his cheeks are wet from raindrops or tears.
“Chase,” he sobs and scrambles into my arms, throwing his arms around my neck. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have taken Gumdrop without?—”
“Hey.”
I cup a hand on either side of his face, and it takes a second to get him to lean back enough that I can look him in the eye.
“You’re safe, and that’s all that matters. Your mom is scared out of her mind, so we need to get you home, okay?”
“Okay.” He nods. “I think I can still ride and?—”
“You’ll ride with me, and Gumdrop will follow Fancy. I’ve got you, buddy.”
His chin trembles. “You’ve got me.”
“Yeah.”
We climb out from under the tree and I lift him into the saddle. I tie Gumdrop’s lead to Fancy’s saddle and swing myself up behind the boy, then take off my jacket and wrap it around him like a blanket.
“You need that,” he says, looking over his shoulder at me.
“I’m fine,” I say. My heart is beating with so much relief, I’m not sure I could feel anything right now.
As the rain beats down on us, my horse—the best fucking animal that ever walked the planet—is steady and sure-footed as she makes her way back to the barn. Thank God for Fancy because I can still barely see three feet in front of us.
Luke begins to tremble, and I pull him tighter against my chest, wrapping an arm around the front of him and hoping that some of the warmth from my body seeps into his. The house and barn are still dark as we approach, and I waste no time putting both horses in their stalls, Luke at my side. I lift him into my arms, and once again, he wraps his arms around my neck. His heartbeat thunders through the layers of clothes he’s wearing, and I run to the house through the darkness.
Molly opens the door just as I reach the top porch step. As long as I live, I’ll never forget the look on her face when she realizes I’m holding her son. If I never do another thing right in my life, I can die a goddamn happy man because I did this thing for her. I kept my promise to bring her boy home.
I start to back away through the open door as Laurel throws her arms around Molly’s waist, and the three of them hug. But with faster reflexes than I’ve seen before, Molly reaches out, grabs my wrist, and tugs me forward.
My heart is in my throat as Laurel clamps a hand around my thigh, and I’m drawn into their group hug as if I’m part of the family.
Like I belong.
And as much as I want to, I still don’t know if I can let myself believe that. Luke would have never ridden into that storm if it weren’t for what he witnessed from me earlier, plus the riding lessons that made him comfortable enough to take Gumdrop out on his own.
I’d like to blame my father, but Malcolm fucking Calhoun wouldn’t have entered their lives if it wasn’t for me.
Yeah, he started the fight and pushed me past my breaking point when he slapped Molly’s son. I let that rage consume me, just like I did back when I was eighteen and ended up in jail for beating the shit out of my dad when he went after my mom one too many times. Just thinking about the horrible cycle of violence makes me want to cry the way the three of them are.
When Molly meets my gaze and glides a thumb across my cheek, I realize it’s not raindrops she’s wiping.
She’s brushing away tears.
That thought has me pulling back even though my body screams at me to stay.
