“No seriously, I’m intrigued.”
“Enjoy your campout.”
The golf cart peels away, and I head for the lodge, half laughing and half horrified at the idea of sleeping under the stars. I spot Allie and Leo by the pool glistening with so much tanning oil they could grease a cake pan.
My feet move on autopilot while my mind stays miles away, turning over Duke’s words. Camping still sounds like my personal version of purgatory, but it’s also something I need to face. Maybe even something worth understanding.
By the time I reach Allie and Leo’s chairs, I’m so deep in thought I don’t realize I’m just standing there, staring into space like a malfunctioning robot.
“Hello?” Allie says, waving her hand.
I blink back to life. “Oh. Hi.”
“Are you okay?” Leo asks. “Oh, no, you didn’t eat a Rocky Mountain Oyster for breakfast did you?”
I laugh as I plop down on the end of Leo’s chair. “No, it’s much worse than that.”
“What is it then?” Allie asks.
“I was just informed that we’ll be leaving for a campout tomorrow.”
“Oh, yeah, Topper mentioned, when we first got here, that this is something they look forward to doing with the vets,” Allie says.
“But, I gather you’d rather go for the bull testicles?” Leo asks.
I chuckle again. “Well, I’m not exactly ready to scamper off into the woods.”
“Disagree,” Allie says. “You have been doing so well, Roxanne. You’ve been writing, emerging from your sadness cocoon, you even did better with Goose when you tried another round of equine therapy the other day.”
I think back to the other morning when I tried to approach Goose again. He didn’t quite shy away from me, but he still didn’t want to walk with me, either.
“Wait, sadness cocoon?” I ask. “What … I … I was never in a sadness cocoon.”
“Going camping will be good for us,” Allie says, ignoring my comment. “Although, I hope that guy Garrett isn’t going with us. He seems pretty hot-headed.”
“Well, you’ll maybe get to learn why he’s struggling,” Leo says.
“He’s struggling because maybe walking around with a horse twice a week isn’t what he needs,” I say.
“You’re still not convinced Firebird Ranch is worthy of the money?” Allie asks. “You need more proof of how it does help vets, don’t you?”
“No, I do, I do think it’s worthy … it’s strange. I’ve had no problem writing about the ranch or the residents, but when I think about how to make my pitch, I’m still completely blocked.”
My thoughts start wrestling with each other. Do I really think this place is worthy? Or is it that I keep catching myself thinking of a certain mountain man who’s running it?
“What’s still holding you back, Rox?” Leo asks.
I rub my eyes. “I don’t know. I mean, the people who are the lifeblood of this place are exceptional, but I know the ranch is competing against so many worthy causes. How can I make them believe if I’m …”
“Still a skeptic?”
“I suppose so, yes. I’m trying to be as objective as possible.”
“Maybe that’s your issue,” Allie says, swinging her legs around so she’s sitting on the edge of her lounge chair. “You should fully surrender and let thine own self be healed.”
“I’m sorry, but no amount of camping—or walking in an arena with a horse—can heal me.”
“Then, Firebird Ranch has already lost,” Leo says with a heavy sigh.
