“That’s bad?”

“Are you ready to be pestered? It’s not like anyone will come knocking on your door—well, most likely not—but you’ll be in the public eye.”

“Oh,” I say. “You’re right.” I lace my fingers through Aiden’s. “I didn’t forget, but I didn’t think about it either.”

“I know.” He smiles. “And that’s just one reason I like being with you. I’m just me when we’re together.”

“Just Aiden is a pretty amazing man.”

“As long as you think so. Do you feel up to riding today?”

My stomach flip-flops, but not with abhorrence at the thought of saddling up without Mom. I’m excited. “Yes.”

Chapter 22

I lie in lush grass, the warm sun beating down on me. Aurelia wiggles around on my lap, pushing her head onto my shoulder. Once she gets comfortable, I fold my arms around her and close my eyes. Haley is working with Sundance. I can hear hooves pounding on dry dirt as she talks to him, giving him commands and praising him.

Out of all the exotic places I’ve been, places with white sandy beaches and crystal-clear waters, places full of bikini-clad women waiting on me hand and foot, places claiming to be paradise, nothing compared to this. The darkness has settled inside of me. It’s still there, I can feel it, but it’s gone dormant. I stifle a cough, not wanting to disturb the little foal sleeping on me, and close my eyes.

I’m almost asleep when my phone rings. Aurelia startles but doesn’t get up. She huddles closer to me, wanting me to protect her.

“Shhh,” I soothe, and silence the call. It’s my manager, and he’ll leave a message if it’s important. Seeing his name pop up reminds me that this isn’t really my life. I’ll have to leave eventually and go back to the hustle and bustle that is my life. I don’t want to, and thinking of the way I used to live makes me a bit ashamed.

A minute passes before my phone alerts me to a message. Ah, fuck. He’s left a long message. I sigh and unlock the phone, not wanting to hear what he’s got scheduled for me but knowing that putting it off won’t solve anything either.

I have promo appearances for Shadowland scheduled to start next month, a reminder about panels at San Diego Comic-Con later this month, a radio show I can record via Skype in my hotel room, and another talk show scheduled for this week. I groan and hang up, not deleting the message yet. So much for spending the whole week resting with Haley.

I pet Aurelia, her soft fur warmed by the sun. I actually like doing talk shows—once I get over my nerves. They turn out to be fun and are pretty easy. Plus, I look good to fans, which is important to me. Image is everything, they say.

I have to leave Thursday afternoon to be in Burbank in time for filming the talk show. I could stay in California for the rest of the weekend, not having to be back here for work until Monday. That isn’t happening. I don’t want to be away from Haley longer than I have to, and I wish she could come with me. It’s not that easy, I know. She has a job, and most of all, the horses.

Aurelia gets up after a while and wants to play. I chase her around until I can’t stop coughing, then go into the barn to see the two injured horses. The big gray guy nickers softly, pressing his nose against the bars of the stall.

“Hey there,” I say, petting him. I haven’t looked at his leg yet. I cast my eyes downward, hesitating. He’s up, though limping, so it can’t be that bad. I move closer and look. The fur has been shaved away, and dark stitches weave around his pink skin. It’s sickening to know someone did that to him. I shake my head.

It’s odd, how being in this small town has pulled my head out of my arse. I’ve lived out of touch with reality, taking everything for granted. Sometimes I forget I’m only human. I’m not immune to the bullshit that goes on around me; I just choose to ignore it.

I let out a breath and move to Phoenix’s stall. She’s standing in the back, head hanging in front of her. Can horses be depressed?

“I know how you feel,” I say softly, unlocking her door. I slide it open half a foot and sneak in, closing it behind me. “You have someone who cares about you,” I tell her, and I’m reminded that Haley feels guilty for not being able to spend much time with the horse.

I lean against the door and see a pile of uneaten hay on the ground. I grab a handful and go to her, grimacing when I see the burns along the right side of her body. The scene plays out before me: Haley and her mom trapped inside a burning barn. The heat, the smoke, the flames inching closer and closer. I can’t think of anything more terrifying. And then somehow Haley gets out, looks back, and her mom isn’t there. Or at least that’s how I imagine it.

“Are you hungry?” I ask Phoenix as I hold out the hay.

She flicks her ears to me and sniffs the hay. I hold out my other hand and gently touch her black fur. She doesn’t move.

“You’re lucky,” I tell her. “Lucky you made it out and lucky you’re here.”

She sighs, and I continue to pet her. Her head comes up, and she takes the hay from my hand. I grab another handful and take it to her, going back for more each time she eats it.

“Want more?” I ask. “There’s a ton over here.”

I lean against the stall, pressing a hand over my chest as I cough and roll my eyes at myself. It’s so annoying to be sick. Phoenix tentatively takes a small step. Hey, progress is progress, right? I stand there, thinking this is what Haley would do, and hold out a handful of hay. Finally, she turns and takes it.

“Good girl,” I praise. “Look, there’s more.”

She lowers her head and slowly nibbles at it. The gate to the round pen opens, rusty hinges squeaking. I look out and watch Haley bring Sundance in. She walks right past me and stops, doing a double-take.

“Phoenix is eating?” she asks me, her green eyes going wide.

“I think so,” I say, looking at the horse sifting through her hay. “It took a little convincing.”

The smile on Haley’s face is worth taking all the time in the world to get this horse to eat. She is so beautiful. She puts Sundance in his stall and rushes over, sneaking into the stall. Her arms slip around me and I kiss the top of her head. She smells like fresh air and sunshine.

“How did you do it?” she whispers.

I shrug. “I did what I thought you’d do,” I confess. “I brought her handfuls at a time until she turned and came over to finish the rest, and it worked.” Her smile widens, and it’s one of the few times since we’ve met that she actually looks happy.

“How did Sundance do?” I ask.

“Okay,” she says. “Alexis, that girl who came with us Friday, is going start coming over to help out. My mom used to give her lessons, so she’s familiar with these guys. With the extra help, he might be able to start looking for a home in a month or so.”

She rests her head against me, and I know she’s tired. She got up at six thirty. I heard her alarm go off and her groaning as she pulled back the covers.

“How do you find them homes?”

“The Internet is really helpful,” she says. “But my mom was always super strict with who they went to. She looked at where they’d keep the horse, what vet they’d use, and required two letters of recommendation.”

“That’s intense.”

“It is. She really cared about the horses. She’d keep them here as long as it took, though it never seemed to take that long. It’s kinda lame, but I always felt like something up there was finding the matches, rewarding her for her kindness.”

“That’s not lame,” I say, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You might be right. There aren’t a lot of kind people in this world. I hope they are rewarded.”

“My mom was one of them, and not just with the horses. She’d help anything and anyone. It didn’t matter. If you needed something, my mom was there.” She closes her eyes, and I can feel her hurt. I run my hand down her back.