Seventeen-year-old Chloe Matthews is done with guys, done with her ex, and done with the cowboys of the Grand Teton Mountains. She refuses to get hurt again.
All that matters now are the horses. Every horse Chloe helps is another piece of herself pu...
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A whole day and a night in the hospital with an IV inserted into the back of my right hand was enough. My release would be in just a few hours. I felt bad for all the others who had to stay. How did people do this long-term? The IV tube ran up my arm, over the edge of the bed, and up the silver pole to the fluid pack. I couldn't wait to get rid of the needle, the pole, and to get out of the chlorine-smelling hospital. What I'd give for the scents of earth and alfalfa.
Mom and Tara had been with me the whole time, each constantly with a hand on me to make sure I was still there. I hadn't seen Jack since he carried me into the emergency room and set me on a gurney. Couldn't blame him. My body seemed intent on rejecting his touch. It was messing everything up. But I missed him. I had so much to say to him.
Mom, Tara and I were watching a Heartland rerun when my eyes started playing tricks on me, showing me what I so desperately wanted to see. Through the long, opaque window over the doorknob, I thought I saw a person with a black cowboy hat. I blinked hard and looked again as someone tapped softly on the door.
Mom got up and opened it. "Yes, she's awake," she said.
Jack peeked into the room. Oh, no. I must look horrible. The stitches in my face, my bed hair. I almost jumped up and ran into the bathroom, but I was attached to the stupid pole, not to mention wearing one of those attractive hospital gowns that was open all the way down the back. I needed a moment. But Jack took off his hat as he and the sheriff tiptoed in. Jack took in the seven stitches around my mouth. Then his eyes found mine and his mouth spread into that slow grin. It was like he didn't even notice how awful I looked.
The sheriff patted my shoulder with such gentleness and care, even with his huge hand. "Calderwood won't be bothering you anymore."
My heartbeat thumped against the side of my neck. Nobody could guarantee that. Everybody wanted to, but nobody could. I'd always be a prisoner in my own life. "What about when he gets out on parole?" I said.
"Won't matter," the sheriff said.
"How can you say that?"
The sheriff raised his eyebrows. "He's completely blind."
"Blind?"
When Billy was in the wheelbarrow, he'd said he couldn't see. But that was just him playing up the drama, trying to make me feel sorry for him. Right?
"Must've been one good wallop you gave him." The sheriff glanced at Jack, and then back at me. "You sure you're the one who gave him that beating?"
"I hit him with a broom." My hand flew to my mouth, along with the IV tube. I blinded him? "I, I cracked the back of his head hard."
"That so?" the sheriff said as he kept eyeing Jack.
No way was I going to let Jack take the rap for this. He did nothing wrong.
