Never Say Never (17 page)

“You’re not mad, are you?” I whisper, voice trembling. “You should be. You can be. I should have been here from the start, Phoenix. Maybe you’d be better. I just can’t. And I know it’s an excuse, and a stupid one at that. But I can’t. I can’t do this all.” I close my swollen eyes. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart, and my arms aren’t long enough to hold it all together. Things are slipping away, and I don’t know what to do.” The tears start to fall again. “I don’t know what to do about anything.”

I put my hand on Phoenix’s muzzle, fingers sweeping over soft fur and rough scars. She heavily exhales, breath warming me. “I’m sorry,” I repeat. She takes a step back, and I curl my legs to my chest and cry myself to sleep, not waking until sunrise.

Phoenix is eating hay. Her feed dish is empty. I bite the inside of my cheek and feel like crying again, but this time out of relief. I close my eyes and tip my head up. “Thank you,” I whisper. I get up, stiff from sleeping half in Phoenix’s stall and half in the barn aisle.

I give everyone hay, mix up another bucket of milk for Aurelia, change Phoenix’s bandages, and then dish out grain. I do a quick five-minute grooming on everyone while they eat, and let the three big guys out in the pasture. Aurelia prances around the round pen. I go back to Phoenix. She ate half her grain and is nibbling the new flake of hay I gave her.

“Want to take a walk?” I ask.

She looks into my eyes, and I know the bond we should have formed months ago is being built. I slip a halter over her head, adding another padded bandage under the nylon so it doesn’t hurt her scars.

Her manners will need work once she’s better. For now, I’m not worried that she’s pulling and walking ahead of me. She hesitates at the threshold, sniffing the air. My heart hurts all over again.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “We’re going outside.”

She’s lived her whole life in a barn, away from fresh air, sunlight, and grass. She’s lived her whole life in misery, forgotten, abused, and neglected. Not anymore. She’s home now, with me, and I’m giving her a second chance.

We slowly walk up and down the driveway. She’s so curious and scared of everything, even the springy grass under her hooves. It takes a while, but she begins to nibble on it. I let her get a few mouthfuls before brining her back into the barn. She has to be weaned onto grass to keep from getting sick.

I let her out in the dry lot. She walks around, sniffing the dry dirt, then goes to the fence and eats the grass growing along the sides. I’m scared this isn’t real, that it’s all a dream and I’m going to wake up to her dead and lifeless in her stall next to me.

I try to shake those thoughts from my head as I go back into the barn to get her hay and a bucket of water. I clean stalls but am too tired to sweep the aisle. I nuzzle Aurelia and trudge into the house. I manage to take a shower before collapsing into bed and sleeping for a little over an hour before I wake up in a panic.

Phoenix is outside.

I race downstairs and to the window. She’s slowly moving around the dry lot, eating whatever grass she can get outside the fence. I put my hand over my heart, trying to will it to slow down. It’s cloudy today, so I can leave her out a while longer before worrying her exposed skin will get sunburned. If her wounds scab over better, I can put a mesh sheet on her, blocking out the damaging UV rays. She isn’t ready for that yet.

I go upstairs, brush my hair, and get dressed. I’m dog-tired, but I have shit to do. I wash dishes, fry the last two expired eggs and pray I don’t get sick, and sweep and vacuum the first floor after I eat. I’m behind on laundry, but that can wait. I go back out and put Phoenix back in her stall. She looks outside longingly, and I promise I’ll let her out again when the sun goes down.

Aurelia drank half her bucket and is now passed out in a sunny spot in a cluster of clovers. I pull my phone from my pocket and snap a few pictures and then go back inside, sinking onto the couch. I’m asleep in minutes.

My phone rings and wakes me up.

“Hello?” I grumble.

“You okay?” Lori says. “I’m on my way over with lunch.”

“I’m okay,” I tell her. “I was sleeping.”

“Oh, sorry for waking you up. But you’re going to eat then get your ass up to bed. I know you stayed in the barn again last night.”

I lie back down. “I did.”

“You’re going to get sick staying up all night, Hay.”

I shrug, forgetting she can’t see me. I don’t care if I get sick. A small part of me hopes I do so I can use it as an excuse to curl up in a ball and never leave my bed. “I’ll nap when you get here,” I say. I really need groceries, but I don’t have the cash and I already have enough on the credit card. There is food in the pantry. It’s mostly ingredients and boxes of pasta with no sauce to go with it, but it’s not like I’m going to starve.

“You will,” she reinforces. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. See ya soon.”

I hang up and go outside. Aurelia needs some cuddle time.

“Have you talked to Aiden again?” Lori asks. We’re sitting in the pasture, keeping Aurelia company as we eat.

“He called me last night.”

She makes a squeaking sound of excitement. “And?”

“He wants to see me on Friday. I don’t know what we’re doing, but he asked me to call him when I get off work.” I smile as I talk, thinking about his handsome face. Everything bad starts to fade away when I think of him. I finish my taco and wipe my greasy hands on the grass. “This is nuts, isn’t it?”

“Nuts in a good way,” she says, taking a sip of her Pepsi.

“If it weren’t Aiden Shepherd, what would you say?” I ask.

“Say in what regard?”

“To me going out and dating someone. Don’t tell me you’d think it’d be a good idea. I’m a loose cannon that cries all the time. Don’t you think dating is the last thing I need?”

Lori leans back on her elbows. Her strawberry-blonde hair blows in the breeze, coming out of the tight French braid she put it in. “Yes and no, and it would depend on who. I can’t fucking stand Kit sometimes, but if something happened to me like it did to you, I’d want him. I’d need him. Having someone…” She trails off, and I think she’s afraid of offending me. “Having someone helps you get through things. I’m not saying Aiden or any guy is the answer here, but let him distract you, Hay. It’s more than just a man. It’s having a connection with someone that you don’t share with anyone else. I want to see you smile again and actually mean it. I miss the old you, and I worry about you so much.”

“I miss the old me too.” The old me burned to death along with my mother and eight innocent horses. I don’t think she’s able to be revived.

A large van slows at the end of my driveway. We both turn, watching it back up and turn in.

“Lost?” Lori suggests, pushing herself up. “Maybe they want directions.”

“Maybe,” I say as I gather the food wrappers. Sunlight reflects off the shiny paint, and I can’t read what the label says. It slows to a stop by the garage. Lori and I narrow our eyes in the sun and wait for the driver to get out.

“Haley Parker?” he asks when he opens the door.

“Yeah?” I reply and hesitate.

“I got a delivery for you. Sign here, please.”

“Delivery?” I stride forward. “I didn’t order anything.” I get close enough to see the van is from a home-delivery grocery service—something I definitely couldn’t afford even before the accident.

“An A. Shepherd placed the order, but I was given your name and address for the drop-off.”

Lori does her excited squeak again and elbows me. “That is really random and kind of weird,” she whispered. “But cute!”

I can’t stop the smile that pulls up my lips. I shake myself and sign the confirmation paper. “Long story,” I tell her. “Well, not really. I told him that I’d either nap or go grocery shopping when you got here, and he knew I was tired.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God! He’s the perfect man. That is seriously—oh my God. I can’t handle it, Hay.”

I just laugh, unsure if I can handle it either. It must have cost a fortune to get the service to drop off food way out here. I’m pretty sure we’re out of range for any thing like this. My mind is changing about Aiden as each bag of groceries comes out of the back of the van. Lori and I stick them in the house; Chrissy sniffs each one and finds a box of organic dog treats. I laugh and tear it open.

Aiden Shepherd is the most thoughtful person on the planet.

The last thing to come out of the truck is a small vase of tulips with a note. I take the flowers inside and snatch the note before Lori can see, wanting to read it first before sharing.

Haley-

Now you can get some sleep. You’ll need it for Friday.

-Aiden

I read his words three times. It’s simple, yet my heart warms and I want to call him. Now. Instead, Lori and I put the food away, gushing and fangirling over him in a totally different way. I’m too excited to nap, but I go upstairs to lie down anyway.

I assume he can’t answer his phone right now, but I want to leave a message anyway. I don’t know what to say. A simple thank you isn’t enough. He did this to give me time to rest. He doesn’t know how much of a financial relief it is to have at least two weeks’ worth of food taken care of for me.

I feel a little nervous when I call him, and I hope he doesn’t answer. I’m no good when it comes to stuff like this. I get embarrassed, and then I don’t seem grateful, and I am, so much.

I get his voicemail, thank goodness. I smile at the sound of his voice and am surprised by the warmth that rushes through me, going all the way down to my core. I’m attracted to Aiden. Very attracted. I was before I got to know him, and now I am even more. I hadn’t felt any sort of desire until he kissed me, awakening what I’d buried in ash.

“Aiden,” I say. “It’s Haley. Thank you. That was so nice of you, and I can’t think of the words to say how much I appreciate it. Um, call me back if you can. I’m taking that nap now, thanks to you. Hope you’re having a good day.”

I hang up before I’m given the chance to redo my message. I could leave fifty and not be satisfied. I take a peek at the photo of us together one more time before closing my eyes and drifting into one of the most peaceful naps I’ve had in months.

I sit at my desk at work the next day, staring at the blank page on my computer. I’m supposed to be writing an article about hiking season, but I’m having a hard time getting the words out. I type out a few, hate them, delete, and then am left staring at the blank Word document again. I sigh and rub my forehead. I’m exhausted. Completely and utterly drained.

Phoenix didn’t eat dinner. She didn’t touch her hay, didn’t sniff her grain. She didn’t drink any water, and she stood perfectly still when I changed her bandages. It wasn’t because she’d been taught manners; it was because she didn’t care. She was giving up and shutting down, and I didn’t know what else to do other than stay with her again that night.

Knowing she is alone in the barn sickens me. I want to go to her and tell her it’s okay, that I have faith in her and I won’t give up, even if she has. I take a breath and look at the clock; I’ve only been here for an hour. I’m on my second cup of coffee already, and my stomach hates me for it.

Aiden never called me back last night. He’s busy, very busy, and he probably didn’t have time. But how hard is it to send a freaking text message? Whatever. He’ll call eventually. And if he doesn’t…at least I got free groceries out of it.

“Haley!” Mr. Weebly says in a tone only used after saying my name several times already, unable to get my attention.

I snap around, putting on my fake smile. “Yes?”

His eyes are round and he crosses his arms. “Were you planning on telling us?” Oh shit. Had I done something wrong? I can’t handle getting yelled at. I’ll break down crying.

I swallow. “Telling you what?”

His thin lips pull into a smile. “This!” he exclaims, holding up his phone.

“Oh.” Blood rushes to my cheeks as I look at the Instagram photo. “Yeah. He and I, uh…we…” I trail off, shaking my head. I push my hair back and smile.