I laughed. “I’ll have to come up with some new material then, won’t I? Keep him on his toes.”
And I did.
I did come up with new material. Brand new dreams.
It was slow. Like roots taking hold under the soil. So slow I didn’t feel them, those dreams growing in my mind.
Woolhope was there for keeps, whenever I wanted it, Dad made that perfectly clear as he handed over the paperwork.
I’ve never hugged anyone so awkwardly for so long, but he didn’t seem to mind.
Jack was staying on to mind the place, keeping the farmhouse and work units on low rent until his business was back on its feet, and the rest of it waited for me, with a bit of livery income from the other horses on the yard.
It would take some time. A lot of time.
It took an age before I was even allowed on crutches, and even then I could do virtually nothing, not without spare hands.
Luckily there was Rick, my constant companion, and actually my stupidKat-rickthing wasn’t so crazy after all. Rick let me shadow what he was doing, giving me an outlet to replace the marketing internship I’d had to leave behind, and I loved it. I loved working with him, loved throwing ideas around and watching them take shape before my eyes.
Some of them were shit, and some of them looked so much better in my head than they ever looked in reality, and I know Rick was humouring me through a lot of it. But even so, some of them were alright. Some of my ideas were even good. And I was smiling, enjoying it. Happy.
Crutches made it easier to see Samson, easier to do everything, especially as my broken leg became more weight-bearing. Ten percent at first, then twenty. Fifty seemed to take an age, and then one day I was back up to full capacity. I could stand.
Only then I had to learn to walk again, and it was harder than you’d think. So much harder.
Learning to fuck again came a lot more organically.
I don’t think my muscles ever let me forget that.
Even when my leg was still useless, back when I’d be propped up in bed with no inclination to move, even then, in my darkest moments, when everything felt like shit, I still wanted those beautiful guys.
I couldn’t have them, but I wanted them.
I just had to make do with watching them have each other.
Such hardship. Such terrible hardship. Life sure sucks sometimes, right?
There’s one real thing that struck me most about the whole sorry reality of my accident, through all of it — all the pain and the humiliation of being unable to do anything for myself — those two incredible men didn’t once falter, didn’t once grumble or snap, or call time out.
They didn’t once look at me as though I was anything less than the girl they’d fallen in love with.
They didn’t love me any less, they didn’t want me any less.
And they didn’t take me any less. Not once I was up to it. Slowly, very slowly, but surely.
And maybe that’s what began to change everything for me.
We were into winter when I first felt the reluctance to pop my contraceptive pill in the morning. I tossed the thought aside and took it anyway, figured it was a stupid hormonal blip and the urge would pass right by again.
But it didn’t.
It really didn’t.
Maybe it was largely circumstantial. A hole in the timeline of my dreams. An enforced hiatus while I got better and Samson took his pasture rest. I mean, I had no interest in filling my yard with new horses, no interest in replacing Samson with another, even if I could have. My dreams for a riding school were strong, but far away, just for the time being, and maybethathad something to do with the reason I first thought seriously about babies.
Maybe it had a little to do with my changing relationships with my own family. My own thoughts about family, and how it could have been for me under different circumstances. What life could have been like. What life was becoming like with both a mum and dad I could believe in, without any lies festering under the surface. With a sister and two brothers that I was coming to know just a little, just a tiny bit better every day.
But mainly I think it had everything to do with Carl and Rick.