I scooted towards my bed, not trusting myself to stand. I reached under the frame, feeling around for the box. My hand touched the angled edge, and I grabbed hold.
The shoebox’s deep maroon color was faded now, even though it rarely saw the light of day. My hand shook as I lifted the lid. Dozens upon dozens of letters filled the box that had once housed my favorite pair of boots. So many, I was running out of space. But only a handful were from the state of Oregon.
Nausea swept through me at the sight of Howard’s looping scrawl—the handwriting burned into my brain. Almost a decade had faded some of the ink on the paper. I flipped through envelope after envelope. So many, I’d lost count.
I only ever read them once. And that was more than enough. I should’ve thrown them away without looking at the contents, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. They were a taunt in written form. A silent:I’m watching.
Because how else would Howard have known that I’d gotten my own post office box? How could he know where to address the letters? Someone had told him exactly where to send them. I shivered as Ian’s face flashed in my mind. The way his eyes lingered on me if I saw him in town. The hatred there.
He’s in prison.Howard’s son had been sentenced to three years for his part in Everly’s kidnapping last year. And I was free.
I stared down at nine years’ worth of harassment. Letters that had made me lose sleep or the contents of my stomach. It was done.
I’d never had the guts to ask my parents if they received letters on my behalf. Because then they’d have known what was coming my way. And they’d have made me close my post office box for sure.
But I took it as a point of pride. Howard Kemper had tried to break me, but he hadn’t won. I was still here. And now,hewas gone.
I shoved the letter into the box and slammed the lid closed. Sliding it back under my bed, I pushed to my feet and headed for the door. My footsteps echoed on the steps as I hurried down them.
Horses let out whinnies for attention as I passed, but I didn’t stop until I reached Sky’s stall. I grabbed the bridle from the hook and slid open the door. She lifted her head, taking my measure.
“Wanna go for a ride?”
I should’ve spent some time working with the new gelding we’d purchased for the ranch, but I needed a ride more than my next breath—to feel the freedom that was now mine.
Sky moved into my space as if to say: “Hurry up, already.”
My mouth curved, and I slid the bridle on. She accepted the bit without complaint. I didn’t bother with a saddle. Didn’t want to take the time. Instead, I stood on the edge of the trunk outside her stall and hoisted myself onto Sky’s back.
We fit each other perfectly. As if we’d always been destined for partnership. I patted her neck and started towards the barn doors. I caught sight of my dad in one of the pastures. His gaze cut straight to me, and that familiar concern lined his face.
I shoved down the annoyance and guilt and steered Sky towards the forest. The path was one we knew by heart. I didn’t even have to guide her now. It wasn’t a short route. It took us thirty minutes, at least, to get where we were going, but the ride was a beautiful one. The mountains peeked out from between endless forests, and one spot had the perfect view of the lake just outside of town. Each moment of peace and beauty helped ease the worst of my edginess.
Sky’s ears twitched at sounds I couldn’t yet hear. Sky picked up her pace when Ramsey’s back pasture came into view. She loved seeing his horses.
I did, too. They were magnificent. And I’d seen him bring many of them back from a state I’d thought there would be no recovery from. Every single horse had a story. They, themselves, were a blanket of stars—pinpricks of hope on the darkest nights.
The horses greeted us with whinnies. A few trotted along the fence line, following us. But most simply kept grazing. They’d become accustomed to my presence since I’d first shown up here, hoping for a glimpse of the man I’d heard could heal even the most broken horses.
I guided Sky around paddocks and pastures until we reached our ridge. Ramsey was already in the round pen as if he’d known I would need this today.
I slid off Sky’s back, taking him in as I did. He had his long, dark hair tied back in a knot with some sort of leather cord. My fingers itched to pull it free and know what it felt like. It was a ridiculous thought for someone who couldn’t bear to feel another person’s skin against hers.
Even at ten years my senior, the only signs of his age were slight lines in the tan skin around his eyes. Those eyes locked with mine now—a brown so dark they were almost black. The kind of eyes you could get lost in and never emerge from. Onyx eyes. I swallowed hard as I sat on the lush grass.
Ramsey turned his focus back to the horse. The gelding eyed him warily, even after the progress they’d made yesterday. Ramsey never took it personally, though. He went through the same steps over and over until the horse was ready to move on to its next phase.
I watched him move in slow, easy motions, reintroducing the horse to his hands and the training flag. As he covered more ofthe gelding, moving to his back and hindquarters, I couldn’t help the urge to move closer.
Maybe it was the knowledge that I was finally free that stoked my bravery. But for the first time, I walked towards the round pen.
4
RAMSEY
My skin prickled,an awareness and phantom energy washing over me as I stroked the gelding’s back. My gaze pulled to the ridge. But Shiloh wasn’t there. It was the flash of her long braid in the breeze that cued me into her new location.
My breath caught in my throat at seeing those light blue eyes close-up. They could steal every last semblance of sanity from a man’s brain. I froze, standing stock-still.