Evermore.
“How long before I can take you home?” I ask, making her wriggle on my lap as I suppress a groan.
“Soon.”
“Promise?” I ask, and she chuckles, kissing my cheek and settling back against me.
“Promise.”
27
PEN
6 MONTHS LATER
“You did good, kid,” Winston says, bracing his arms on the fence next to me, both of us watching Harlan work with Napa, a malnourished mare we’d taken in last month. The sanctuary wouldn’t be formally open for another few months, but we’d done our best to take on a couple of the direst cases.
“The response so far has been incredible,” I agree, sidestepping his compliment and nodding toward Harlan. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“He’s got a gift, that’s for sure. But you’ve made this”—Winston motions around the field—“a reality, better than I imagined when I floated the idea of a sanctuary.”
“You would have done this.”
Turning, he looks at me, his expression kind and open, the relation to Lake unmistakable. “Having the money to do something is only part of it, Pen. You have to want it, live it—breathe it—if you’re going to make something like this a success.”
“We’ve all worked hard to get here.”
“It’s bigger than that. It’s about the people.” He points at Harlan. “I’ve watched him come alive here, finding love and happiness and a fair amount of humility.”
“I seem to know something about that too,” I say with a chuckle that has the corner of Winston’s mouth curving up.
“Some people find it by the ocean on a beach somewhere, but some of us need the mountain air, the land raw and untouched where it goes for miles before kissing the sky. It’s different here;we’redifferent.” He stands straight, his gaze filled with affection. “Just took you a while to remember you can always come home.”
Home.
To Wintervale and Lake and Oma and the Sterlings.
To a life that’s even better than I imagined.
“Thank you for believing in me,” I tell him, sniffing as he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in for a hug.
“We’ve always believed in you, Pen. You just needed to believe in yourself.”
“You two plan on helping today or are you just gonna hold up the fence?” Harlan calls, making Winston chuckle.
“I have some paperwork calling my name,” I tease.
“Yeah, I just bet you do.” He smirks. “Meet me in the barn and I’ll show you what we’ve got.”
Slowing my steps, I lift my face to the sun and inhale deeply, grounding myself in this beautiful day.
I’m so lucky to be here.
With a spring in my step, I round the corner of the barn and stop short, blinking rapidly like the picture in front of me will change if I do.
Easels make a path on the concrete, each one staggered after the next with words and pictures I can barely see through my tears.
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