I no longer wanted the obligation of being custodian.
I wanted them gone.
They were Mom’s.
They were Dad’s.
It was time she had them.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Jacob
* * * * * *
“HAVE YOU SEEN Mom?” I asked Aunt Cassie as she carried a bucket of feed toward her chosen riding horse of the day. A cute dapple called Romy.
“Nope. Not since yesterday when we collected the two rescues.” Her face fell, the cloudy sky softening the darkness of her brown hair. “God, Jacob. That place? Those poor things were chained to a tree with no food or water. They’re all skin and bone. I officially hate people.”
I jammed one hand into my jeans pocket while the other clutched the plastic bag holding Dad’s gifts. “Glad you guys saved them.”
“It’s gonna take a long time to get their trust, poor things. Any sudden moves and they’re explosive.”
“I’ll keep that in mind when I go see them later.”
“Good.” Aunt Cassie nodded distractedly. She looked me up and down. “Your grandpa told me what happened with you two the other day.”
“Oh, yeah? He tell you that he’s sick?”
Her face fell. “Yes. But he’s doing much better with his new prognosis.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
She smiled sadly. “Not gonna work. He told me he’s refused to tell you. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
I scowled. “You don’t think that’s totally unfair?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “But it doesn’t really matter in the scheme of things. Worrying about it won’t change it.”
“No, but perhaps I could research and find a better treatment. I could ask around. Get a second opinion—”
“Stop.” She swiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “He’s had enough opinions, Jacob. He’s very much like Ren in this matter and only willing to accept help so long as it doesn’t interfere with his life with us. Don’t get obsessed with fixing him.”
What could I say to that?
They acted as if it was so wrong to try to fight sickness.
I didn’t understand it at all.
Looking away, I scanned the fields, searching for someone else who was missing.
Not only was my mother MIA but Hope, too.
Her disappearance made me dark with unease.
“Anyway, see ya round.” I gave Aunt Cassie a nod, repositioned my cowboy hat on my head, and strode off in the direction of my mother’s house.
Normally, Hope would be jumping at my heels like an eager puppy ready to work.
She hadn’t gone this long without making my life a living hell, and as much as I didn’t want to face her after yet another violent kiss, I’d been raised better than that. I couldn’t let my manners fail by not giving an apology and clearing the air.
She was right. I’d attacked her. That kiss was entirely my fault.
I had to make it right.
The second I’d given Mom her gifts, I’d stalk Hope for a change and tell her to get over it. What happened to friends and forgiveness? The weeks’ chores were long, and I’d grown used to her help, goddammit.
Opening the gate that led toward the smaller paddocks, I scowled at the grass. Already, it’d sprouted to shin height even from our harvest last month. Soon, it would require another cut, not waiting for anyone to have a personal crisis or relationship complication.
See, this is why I’m better off alone.
I didn’t do well reading into people’s actions. I overthought. I wasn’t equipped.
A whinny sounded, dragging my attention upward. At least luck had delivered one person I was looking for.
Mom patted the nose of a skinny palomino with sores on her hips and spine. Her ribcage looked as if it’d morphed from her flesh to be bone-white and visible in the daylight.
My heart clenched at the malnutrition. At the way the horse hung there in its halter, so used to being tied and accepting a hopeless situation. A bucket of food waited by her head, untouched as if she’d forgotten how to eat.
Aunt Cassie was right.
People were jackasses to do that to a creature.
I hope they rot in hell.
Mom noticed me crossing the meadow as she left the head of the barely alive palomino and skirted around the back of a blue roan with slightly more meat on his bones but a gnarly scar along his belly as if someone had tried to disembowel him and never stitched him together again.
I waved in greeting, a flush of love finding its way through my broken heart. Grateful that Mom was so caring to donate her money and time to these lost causes. They might not survive, but at least they’d have the best care, food, and attention. They’d know they were loved before their end came.
Mom smiled, raising her hand in return.
And that was when it happened.
An ending.
Time slowed as if it wanted me to know the exact sequence of events. To be sure I had crystal clarity to replay the horror over and over again for years to come.