Page 61 of Freeing the Wild
I said a month, at least.It’s been just over a week.I’m not ready for that yet.Plus, I’m doing some writing here so I might want to switch the last two songs up.
DAX
I thought you were just being dramatic when you said a month.And you can’t change the music now, Cassie.Be reasonable.
Let’s just stick to the plan.
My ears start to burn and my jaw tenses, I feel like screamingbut it’s MY album.I use quick fingers to type so I can just be done with this conversation.
I’m just starting to feel like myself again, thanks to this place.But I’m not ready to go back to work and I don’t want to be rushed.
DAX
It’s your choice.But let me just remind you that if you’re not visible, you’re forgettable.
How could I forget.
Goddammit.Iwashaving a good day.I haven’t written lyrics this easily since my early days on the bluegrass scene in Memphis.This morning it was quiet and dreary, which served as the perfect creative backdrop for my soul.I’ve almost put the finishing touches on a song and I’ve been here for less than two weeks.
I stir my pasta sauce as I think of Haden and hum the tune I can’t get out of my head.I glance out the window of my cabinat the snow falling heavier in big flakes outside.It’s just starting to get dark and, before Dax soured my mood, I was thinking how beautiful it all is.Haden’s cabin is dark, and his truck is missing from the drive despite the fact it’s early evening.Which means he’s been at it with the boys for close to twelve hours.I do my best to focus on my dinner, but my mind keeps wandering back to him.Okay, maybe Fiona is right, maybe it’s this placeandthe cowboy I sat outside with last night until I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore.Both of them seem to be good for my soul.
It was close to two in the morning when he finally told me he had to head back to his cabin to sleep, or he wouldn’t be any help to anyone preparing for a snowstorm today.When I heard his truck start at six a.m., I felt a little pang of guilt as I snuggled back under my warm duvet.But then I realized I think he liked talking to me as much as I liked talking to him, and that he could’ve left anytime.Hechoseto stay, so as annoyed as he pretends to get with me, some part of him likes my company in the same way I like his.I’m willing to bet he doesn’t understand why any more than I do.
I picture him sitting across from me on my porch, his heavy winter flannel bunched around him with the hood pulled up, while we talked about anything and everything.He told me about his plan to one day take over Penny Lane, and the admiration he has for Wade, Nash and Cole.He talked about this place’s late leader, Wyatt Ashby, and how he’d brought Haden onboard when he had no plans for his future after he was injured at school.He filled me in on how Wyatt gave him a fresh start at Silver Pines.How he taught him that life is all about choices—that we all have the ability to take our own reins and steer our lives in any direction we choose.
I take my time with my thoughts while I assemble the ziti, preparing it to bake in the oven while I sing along to the Dolly Parton album playing through my speakers.I do it like my mamadoes—like a lasagna, but with a good layer of ricotta in the middle.My stomach growls, and I think about how great it’s going to be to just curl up with some guilt-free carbs and a movie while the snow comes down outside.Maybe I can make it through tonight without getting off to the idea of my hot, rugged neighbor.
I clean up the kitchen, and then it’s time for my next therapy session with Dr.Payler over video conference while the ziti cooks.She has me practice my breathing techniques while I picture the face of the woman who died in front of me.I remember her dark, wavy hair, which reminded me of Ivy’s, and my whole body tenses at the memory.But Dr.Payler helps me through.She tells me to picture that moment as a storm—violent wind and rain.She tells me to imagine making my way through the storm to the other side.She tells me that the chances of something like what happened in California happening again are one in hundreds of thousands, and that my fear is around not having control over my surroundings.Her words hit deep, and my nerves are shot after our talk.
When we’ve finished the session, I open the kitchen window to let in some fresh air while I eat, taking deep breaths and counting the way Dr.Payler taught me to.These discussions take a lot out of me.Reliving that night isn’t easy, but I know in my heart that if I’m going to heal, I need Dr.Payler ’s help.And I need to start being honest with myself.
There are no sounds outside as I breathe in the cool air that filters through the screen.It’s the kind of snowstorm that makes the world feel padded, like you’re in a sort of soundproof room as the flakes fall down.It’s eerily beautiful.
When I’m finished eating, I shower and change into my sweats, Haden still isn’t home.So I curl up on the sofa with a blanket, a container of ice cream and a romcom.Before I know it, I’m drifting off to sleep with the snow falling outside my picturesque cabin window.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Cassie
Someone is pulling me.I scream but they still pull.I reach for her hand as she reaches for mine.But I can’t grasp her.
“Go back for her!”I call out, but no one listens.My cowboy boot scrapes over every bump in the stage floor as I’m pulled away.The hem of my bell bottoms catches on a screw and rips.I hear feet on the ground.Horses?No.People.The sound of their heavy feet makes my eyes flick to the woman still heaped in the dirt.She lifts her head and her eyes, now bloodshot and lifeless, focus on mine.“This is your fault,” she whispers.
A heavy knock wakes me as I sit up in a cold sweat, my heart pounding from my dream.I realize two things instantly.The lights I left on are no longer on.And it’s cold.Really fucking cold.The knock sounds again at my door.
“Cassie?”
It’s Haden.My eyes flick out the window and I see his parked truck on the drive.
I stand, disoriented but relieved he’s here.I wrap the blanket that was covering me around my body to make my way to the door, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my palm.I shudder when I open it.The damp air has chilled me right to my bones.
“Calm down, Cowboy,” I mutter as I pull the door wide.
“What’s wrong?”he asks right away.
“Nothing … I just had a bad dream.Perfect timing, really.You woke me at the part I hate the most.”
The brim of Haden’s cowboy hat is sprinkled with snow, as is his flannel coat.The concern that lines his rugged features turns to relief and his navy blue eyes soften at my words.I glance down at the biggest flashlight I’ve ever seen in his grasp, and notice how much more snow has fallen.How long have I been asleep?
