Once I’d finished my tasks, I ambled home to Della’s house, conscious and overly aware that I hadn’t seen Jacob today. I hadn’t heard the grumble of his tractor or caught a fleeting glance as he shot by on the quad.
I wasn’t at ease not knowing if he was around or okay.
Entering the Wild’s house, I headed to Jacob’s room—that had swiftly become mine—and changed from my horse-hair-covered leggings and into a comfy pair of grey yoga pants. Slipping into a pink T-shirt with gold flecks, I braided my hair, used an elastic band I found on Jacob’s dresser to secure it, and made my way to the kitchen.
There, I created a veggie sandwich with the leftover roasted vegetables from the night before, squirted a generous amount of mayonnaise, then tucked it into a bag along with a packet of salt and vinegar chips and a Mars bar I found in the pantry.
I remembered everything I did with explicit detail—more so than any other morning. It was as if I knew something was coming, and my brain was preparing itself by centring in the now, calming itself in the present, and existing in the serenity before the storm.
It took me fifteen minutes to hike up the gentle hill that overlooked Cherry River’s houses and out-buildings. Another fifteen to cut across the ridge, weave around the apple orchard that Jacob’s father planted (according to Della), and spread out the picnic blanket that I’d often used for my afternoon lunches alone.
I sat down.
I placed my sandwich, chips, and chocolate bar just so in front of me.
I turned on my e-reader and prepared to lose myself in a world of villainous vampires and angelic witches, only for my entire body to shiver with fear.
Coldness. Dread. Panic.
Had someone died?
Was Dad okay?
Why did I suddenly—
I looked up at the sound of thundering hooves.
A blur of roan and grass and Jacob as Forrest shot from the woodland, galloping below me through wildflowers and meadow. There was no glint of bridle or sign of saddle and stirrups. No tack between horse and rider.
They moved effortlessly together.
Jacob leaned forward, and Forrest ran faster. Jacob tipped to the left, and Forrest followed in a sweeping arc as if he had wings.
Forgetting about my lunch, I stood on shaky legs as Jacob urged Forrest to fly quicker, straight toward a post and rail fence. A fence that wouldn’t be forgiving if he messed up the stride or didn’t clear it.
My eyes wanted to close as they approached the obstacle at breakneck speed, only to soar and leap, seamless in their perfection, landing softly and just as fast on the other side.
Jacob’s seat was unmatched. He didn’t bounce riding bareback. He didn’t hang onto the mane or cling for purchase. His legs were his ballast. His back strong. Core engaged. He was utterly insane as he removed his fingers from the roan’s neck and sat up tall. Spreading his arms wide, he gave all faith and existence to the horse who took his rider’s trust and ran ever faster.
Faster and faster.
Nimble and quick and crazy.
A fallen tree that’d lain on the ground for years by the way nature had reclaimed it loomed in their path. The dead root system shot to the sky, the trunk itself weathered and massive.
Jacob kept his arms spread, making it seem as if he was part element himself—a man made of air with a sorcery over animal and land. His messy golden hair streamed behind him. His face resolute and determined.
And he kicked Forrest with an urgency that looked tangled up with the need to run, fear of life, and the weight of whatever madness he lived with.
It only took a second.
A brief second to watch the most horrifying thing.
Forrest reached the fallen tree.
Jacob leaned forward into jumping position, his arms still spread wide.
Forrest jumped.
His legs tucked. His body arched.
But it wasn’t enough.
The horse’s knees whacked against the root system, breaking twigs and debris, interrupting the flow of such a gigantic jump.
Forrest tripped mid-air, his feet kicking as if he could reconnect with earth, but it was too late. The horse somersaulted, throwing Jacob over his head, catapulting him into the thick grass.
I gasped, heart hammering, hands clamped over my mouth while I waited.
Waited for horse and rider to stand, brush off their catastrophe, and continue.
Only…the horse got up and not the rider.
The horse trotted around, tossing his head, telling the tree off for making him fall.
But Jacob didn’t get up.
For four eternally long heartbeats, I waited.
Please, get up. Please, get up. Please!
Nothing.
I ran.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Hope
* * * * * *
“JACOB, CAN YOU hear me?”
I cradled his head on my lap, my fingers fluttering over his forehead like they had for the past five minutes since I’d slammed to my knees beside him.
He was breathing, but the angle of his back sent terror infecting my heart. I didn’t want to move him. I’d heard the stories that you shouldn’t move someone with suspected spinal issues. But as I’d kneeled next to him, he’d woken just long enough to try to sit up. With a tortured expression, he’d groaned and fought.