“Tired?” Ethan slips his hand under my shirt and starts rubbing my back.
“Exhausted. If only my mind would shut off.”
“I’d tell you to close your eyes and relax but I know that’s easier said than done. I will promise you that I won’t let the Order touch you with a ten-foot pole. They’ll have to go through me first.”
“I know,” I say, rolling over so I can hook my leg around him. And I do know. Ethan would fight to the death for me, and that terrifies me more than anything. My worst fear is something bad happening to the ones I love and I couldn’t see how that could kill me.
But it would break my heart, piece by painful piece, if I had to watch Ethan endure any sort of pain at my expense. I hadn’t thought it was even a possibility before, but I know it is now, without a shadow of a doubt.
Ethan would do anything to save me, no matter the cost.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
The smell of coffee fills the air and I slow, breathing it in, before shoving my feet into boots and pulling on my heavy winter coat. Only Harrison and Sam are up, which surprises me. Sam is upstairs in the bathroom, and Harry is in the kitchen. Thankfully, he already started a pot of coffee.
“If I would have known you would be up before me, I would have asked you to feed the horses,” I grumble to my brother as he opens and closes cabinets, looking for a coffee mug.
“I don’t do horses, you know that.” He finally finds the mugs and gets two down. “Want coffee?”
“It’s more of a need,” I say. “Why are you up so early?”
“As much as I hate admitting it, I’m getting used to getting up early for work. That and knowing that my sister basically has a warrant out for her arrest made it hard to sleep.”
“Getting arrested would almost be the better option here.”
“If this Steph chick does go through with things and reports you and all that shit happens, do you think Ethan would leave the Order?” Harrison pours coffee into both mugs and hands me one. Too lazy to take my boots off, I walk across the kitchen and get the creamer from the fridge.
“I’d hope so.” I let out a breath. “It would be almost insulting if he didn’t, right? Or am I being self-absorbed in all this?”
Harrison stares at me, unblinking. “You’re joking, right?”
“About which question?”
“There’s nothing self-absorbed about wanting your boyfriend to leave an organization who is basically going to kill you if they find out you’re a witch.”
I sip my coffee and hear the floor creak above us as Sam leaves the bathroom. Taking my coffee along, Hunter and I go out to the barn.
“Morning, guys.” A smile comes to my lips as soon as I step into the barn, breathing in the sweet scent of horse feed and hay. Mystery and Sundance nicker to me and both Ross and Rachel start braying. They’re so loud it makes me laugh, and I brush everyone as they’re eating their morning hay.
“I know you’re getting bored,” I tell Sundance, running a brush over his fur. “We’ll start riding again soon, I promise.” It took him a while to settle into his new laid-back lifestyle, having been a show-horse most of his life. “And I still miss her, too.” My heart still hurts when I think of Leslie, and the guilt of her death will never, ever leave me.
And it shouldn’t.
“Good news is we’re supposed to have some nice weather next week.” I trade the dandy brush for a curry comb, getting dried mud off his back legs. Why I’m bothering to clean him up before I let him out to go roll is beyond me, but I quite enjoy brushing my horses. “And there are a few places to trail ride. I think you’ll happily trade the jumping circuit for some trail rides with fallen logs to jump over instead, right?”
He keeps munching on his hay and I go into Mystery’s stall, wanting to give up before I get started. His white fur is stained yellow and brown from laying down on his own poop and then rolling in the mud outside. I like to keep everyone out in the pasture as much as possible, though until we get the run-in shelters built this Spring, they can’t spend the night out there just yet.
I take my time cleaning stalls and tidying up the barn, subconsciously knowing that as soon as I go back into the house, it’s crunch-time. Technically, it’s crunch-time now, but I can avoid it if I don’t think about it. When the stalls are all cleaned, water buckets are washed, and the dirt aisles have been raked, I can’t come up with any other excuse to stay out here.