And nothing else.
She’ll understand, I’m sure. Josie might be stubborn and a rather emotional person, but she’s reasonable as well. I can’t blame her for being upset, and when I think of things from her point of view, the cards really do seem stacked against me.
“She’ll understand,” I say out loud, reaching out to pet Simba, one of my two cats. He’s sixteen and was brought to a cat rescue after someone found him left behind when his owners moved out of their apartment. He was starving and sick, and I didn’t think he’d survive. Two years later, he’s still with us, and—shocking, I know—I got attached. He’s lived with me ever since.
Giving up on trying to sleep, I mindlessly scroll through articles on my phone, wanting to stay distracted. A text from Chloe comes through, and I click on it right away.
Chloe: Hey! I have a character who’s a vet…can I ask you a few questions?
Me: Of course
Chloe: I just realized how late it was! I hope I didn’t wake you up.
Me: I was already up, don’t worry about it.
Chloe: Did you get called out for an emergency?
Me: No, just can’t sleep. You up late writing?
Chloe: Always lol. I’ll email you my list of questions that I’ve already typed up and no rush. Thank you, Jacob! <3
My fingers hover over the screen of my phone. Chloe is closer in age to me than she is to Sam and has always felt like a sister. I trust her, and I know she’ll understand. But admitting that I feel like I royally fucked up to Chloe means actually admitting it to myself: that I care about Josie.
And I care a lot.
I wouldn’t have this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach if I didn’t care…if I didn’t have feelings for her. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I try, once again, to push my thoughts aside. And once again, I fail.
Me: No problem
Only a minute later, my phone notifies me that I got an email. Knowing I won’t be able to sleep anytime soon, I open my email and see Chloe’s email as well as one from earlier this evening, from one of the vets on the panel I participated in at the Horse Fair. Curious, I open it.
Hi, Dr. Harris,
A few vets from the area are going to the Hillside Auction tomorrow and I wanted to extend the invite to you—I know it’s late notice, so it’s understandable if you can’t come. We’re offering our services to sick/injured horses as well as trying to get proof of some of the abuse that goes on there. Let me know if you want to meet up.
Thanks,
Dr. Brendon
I hit reply and pause, trying to think this through. The clinic is closed on Sundays and Crystal is on schedule to go in and do Pongo’s treatments in the afternoon. The Hillside Auction is a few hours away, and it’s been years since I’ve been there, but I heard from Kim that it’s gotten worse over those years. Horses are dumped off in terrible condition and nothing is done to help them, nor to prevent further injury or stop the spread of illness that runs rampant through that place.
Horses can be there for days, if not weeks, before being run through the sale, and not all have access to fresh hay or water. That’s not to mention the rough handling by the auction employees. They have a strict no cameras policy, though it’s not all that hard to sneak some footage on your phone.
It’s a good thing to do and, though it’ll be hard to see animals in that condition, spreading awareness will be the first step in getting that place to have some accountability or even be shut down.
It will offer a good distraction from Josie because the sick feeling in my stomach is growing as each minute ticks by. I keep telling myself that she’ll calm down if I give her some time and then I can talk to her. I’ll explain everything and make her see that it was never my intention to scare her away so she’d put the farm up for sale.
And maybe…just maybe…I’ll tell her how she makes me feel.
Chapter Thirty-Six
JOSIE
The screen door slowly creaks open, and I wince, hoping I didn’t wake anyone up. Louisa and Everly are both asleep upstairs, and it looks like they fell asleep while watching a movie on Ev’s laptop. It’s nearing three in the morning, and I can’t fall back asleep.
I sat in my car in the parking lot for as long as I could stand it before leaving the gala. If I came home too early, it would be obvious something is wrong, and I didn’t want to come home and explain everything.
Because it hurts.
And I feel stupid.
But mostly…mostly because of how my heart feels like it’s been stabbed right there in my chest.