His arms ached with missing his baby girl. He didn’t have a cell signal where he was, but when he did, he’d call and see whether she’d babble at him over the phone. His daughter saved his life. If it weren’t for her, he’d never have survived this rift between him and Renie. Then again, if it weren’t for her, there wouldn’t be a rift in the first place.
If someone told him a year ago that he’d go eight months without talking to Renie, he would’ve called them a damn liar. Hell, he hadn’t been able to go eight hours without talking to her, or at least texting her.
He took pictures of Willow with his phone every day. Each time he did, the first person he wanted to send them to was Renie. Instead, he kept them to himself, believing that one day he’d show them to her. One day she’d want to see them.
He wished he could make sense of the way Renie reacted at the hospital when he first met Willow. Everyone who knew her was surprised by it. There were lots of kids around when she lived with her mom, and they boarded horses. She was great with them, even talked about giving riding lessons before school got to be too much work for her to consider it.
In an instant, Renie turned from being his best friend, and the love of his life, to someone he didn’t know, and it was all because of his baby girl. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure it out.
Maybe soon, she’d give him some answers.
Renie had been sending Billy checks every month for Pooh’s care, but he never cashed them. She wondered if he got them, but she thought he must. If he didn’t, did he really think she wouldn’t send money to feed and care for her horse? She knew she had the address right, it had been her address for the first twenty-two years of her life.
She looked out the bedroom window and saw a truck coming down the long dirt road toward the house. It wasn’t until she realized it was pulling a horse trailer that a feeling of dread settled in the pit of her stomach.
She went upstairs into the kitchen, to get a better view of the truck. It finally got close enough for her to see who was driving.
Billy pulled up in front of the ranch house and turned off the truck. He took several deep breaths and said a prayer that Renie was here, and if she was, that she’d want to see him.
He took a long look at the house before he opened the door and climbed out. It didn’t look as though there was anyone home, but it was a big house, they could be anywhere in it.
He saw something move in one of the front windows, and by the long blonde hair, he knew it was Renie. Would she come out? Or if he went to the front door and knocked, would she pretend she wasn’t home?
There was one way to find out. He got out of the truck and walked back to the trailer to check on Pooh first. She was fine. He walked up the porch steps, and stood at the front door, willing himself to knock, praying she would open it.
Renie didn’t know what to do. She knew Billy saw her in the window. He had her horse, she couldn’t leave him standing out there. Where was her mom? Where was Ben? Why wasn’t anyone else home? Oh God, what should she do?
She looked awful. She worked late again last night, and stayed in bed most of the day. She’d showered when she got home, but hadn’t this morning—leaving her with bed-head of epic proportions.
She could hear only two things, his boots on the porch, and her pounding heart. She grabbed the closest chair, feeling short of breath, and thought she might pass out. This must be what a panic attack feels like.
He knocked on the door, she took a deep breath, and opened it. “Hi, Billy.”
Billy thought he was ready for this, to see her, but he wasn’t. A rush of emotions overtook him, and he thought for a minute he might cry. “Hi, Renie.”
“Come in.” She walked in the opposite direction and sat down on a stool near the kitchen.
How was she so calm? He was ready to burst at the seams. Then he saw it, Renie was sitting on her hands. She wasn’t calm at all, thank God.
“You didn’t cash my checks.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t know. They sat on his dresser, every single one of them. He didn’t have a reason not to put them in the bank, he just hadn’t.
“I don’t know, to tell you the truth.”
“So that isn’t why you’re delivering my horse.”
“Renie—”
She got up and grabbed a jacket off the hook by the door. It was huge on her. She put her feet inside a pair of boots, also not hers, based on the size of them.
She hurried out the front door to his trailer, and by the time he caught up to her, she was inside, hugging her horse.
He backed away. She was talking to Pooh, rubbing her nose, arms around her neck, and she was crying. He didn’t want to intrude. He understood how much she loved that horse, how hard it must’ve been to stay away all this time.