Sure as hell kept her hands all over my horse, he silently muttered.
Shifting his walker to face the gaping maw of the barn door, he took his first step toward the dim interior. Paused. A second step. Another pause. His breath came hard and shallow. His head felt extremely heavy on his fragile neck. Walking tookmore concentration, more sheer effort, than it ever had. Sweat dotted his nape. He wanted to return to the comfort of his wheelchair. His heart, that defiant organ, thundered in his chest, and he waited, sure in the knowledge that it could quit again without warning. Every sensation was horrible in its own right. Combined? He was overwhelmed with the urge to tear the barn down with his bare hands, one board at a time, in lieu of being emotionally deconstructed in the same fashion.
“I can’t.” Wiping his brow, he glanced around. “I can’t do this.”
He struggled to keep his balance as he attempted to maneuver the walker toward the house. Lord help him, he was as weak as a newborn foal. His legs refused to stabilize. He had to get out of here, though, and he’d do it on his own. Pride would keep him upright far longer than stamina ever would. And when he ran out of pride? When he couldn’t go any farther without help? He’d call his brothers. They could pick him up and drive him to the house. This was, after all, their fault. He never would have come down to the barn of his own free will. This was a mistake—anepicmistake.
Then Gizmo called out, the sound heart wrenching.
Chest tightening impossibly, he took finite steps until he was pointed toward the barn again. Moving slowly, fear bore down on him with every step. By the time he crossed the threshold into the barn, his defenses had been thoroughly stripped away, his emotions raw and exposed.
For better or worse, he stood where it had all started—where he’d found a way to live, to be more than the youngest Covington, more than a playboy screwup, more than he’d ever thought he’d be with more than he’d ever thought he might have.
He’d had everything he’d wanted.
Then that bitch Life had found a way to take it all away from him.
KENZIEHADHEARDthe Mule stop, then charge away. Voices had risen in confrontation before Cade had announced he was leaving Ty to fend for himself. She was confident the middle Covington brother hovered nearby, though. He wouldn’t leave his younger brother alone to fend for himself. She knew Cade well enough to be sure he was far too loyal for that.
Then she heard the shuffle-step, shuffle-step of Ty’s progress. She wanted to go to him, to help, but he had to do this for himself. Her job was to stay out of the way. She’d only observe. If an issue arose that put either Ty or Gizmo at risk, she’d text one of the brothers. Or, heaven forbid, both.
She was glad she’d changed her mind about Ty visiting Gizmo. Both animal and man would heal faster if they had each other to lean on. A bond like these two had was as rare as it was beautiful.
When Ty neared the barn, Kenzie slipped into the deep shadows between the haystack and the tack room to best watch the man move. The determination on his face had been tempered by a bevy of other emotions, all of which were horrible to witness. His stop-and-start gait left his footing unsure, and he leaned on his walker so heavily the wheels sank first into the soft dirt and then, when he reached the barn, the mulched alleyway bisecting the stalls.
He stopped inside the giant doorway and closed his eyes, and she thought he might have given up. Half of her wanted to rail at him for quitting while the other half wanted to go to him, wrap him in her arms and offer to help carry the burden. In an abstract way, they’d been that person to each other over the past few years. This, however, was different.Decidedlydifferent. This wasn’t about mutual gratification or losing a couple of hours to pleasure to get one’s mind off something. Rather, it was about choosing to embrace life instead of letting circumstance steal itfrom a loosened grasp.
She stayed where she was.
Ty finally opened his eyes and focused his gaze on Gizmo’s stall.
Kenzie originally wanted to put the horse in the stall at the far end of the barn, where it would be easier to access the swimming pool she was having installed. It dawned on her she hadn’t mentioned the pool to anyone here. Oops. She’d get on that as soon as this moment with Ty and Gizmo passed. Right now, though, the man and his horse were the priority. The family had entrusted her to see to Gizmo’s well-being while they were focused on Ty.
They trust me.
The knowledge stole her breath. Fist pressed to her abdomen, she forced herself to breathe slowly. That was when it happened.
A gelding in stall five, halfway down the stable alleyway on the north side, stuck his head over his stall door and spotted Ty. The horse went nuts. Pawing the door, he tossed his head and snorted, rolled his eyes and stretched his lips out, flapping them like sheets in the wind.
Ty saw the animal and froze. “Gilligan,” he croaked, the sound raw, the painful reality undiluted. “I’ll get to you in a minute, my man.”
More horses appeared, peering out of their stalls to see what the hullabaloo was about. Recognizing Ty, they neighed and stomped their feet and gave every sound of joy one might expect from an excited herd of horses.
Kenzie grinned and then glanced at Ty to gauge his reaction. What she found wiped the smile off her face.
Ty stood staring at Gizmo’s stall, eyes wide as tea saucers and face as pale as cream. He shook. Not mild shaking, but the kind that was closer to a seizure. He stared straight ahead, his gazenarrowed on the stall door in front of him where no head had emerged.
Then, Gizmo was there. He moved with a faltering gait, his head bobbing in counterbalance to his limp, but it didn’t change the fact that his head appeared over the stall door.
Ty physically sagged so much he nearly fell. Shoulders shaking, she watched as the man she’d always known as strong, indefatigable and hardheaded fell apart. He moved forward through sheer force of will. Tears spilled down the cheek he unknowingly presented in profile to her. His lips moved in what she would guess could only be an invocation, and Gizmo’s ears strained toward the man as if he listened to every word.
Ty finally made it to the horse and stopped.
With incredible tenderness, Gizmo lowered his head and pressed his broad face into Ty’s chest. The animal loosed an audible sigh that said more than the most powerful words ever would.
Moving with infinite care, Ty rested one hand on the side of Gizmo’s cheek and bowed his head. Tears fell faster. “What the hell were you thinking, you giant lunk? Nothing—no prize, no winnings, no title—nothingis worth what you put us through. If you thought different, you’re an idiot.” The last was offered with such soft condemnation that it was impossible to know whether Ty was referring to himself or his horse.
Gizmo didn’t move, just leaned into Ty and held perfectly still as Ty ran his hands over every inch of hide he could reach. The horse’s long-lashed eyes slowly closed as he relaxed further. His bottom lip wobbled, and Ty smiled, the reaction softening the grief that had etched itself onto his face.