“I mean, in the beginning,” Ty said. “I’m not conflicted now.”
“I should hope not.” Winnie’s stomach pinched slightly. “What were you conflicted about?”
He took a beat to think about it. “You being my physical therapist,” he said. “What people would think of that.”
“No one’s said anything.”
“No, I know.” He gave her a quick look with slightly narrowed eyes and left Gypsum. “This is Laura Ingalls. She belongs to Trevor, and she’s one of his best cutting horses.”
“I’m not sure I know what that means.”
“They cut cattle out of the herd,” Ty said. “Trevor’s one of the best horse trainers in these parts, and he sells his cutting horses for tens of thousands of dollars.”
“Wow, he does? I thought you said he couldn’t walk?”
“He uses arm crutches, yeah,” Ty said. “He’s actually one of my heroes. He gives me hope.”
Winnie wanted to know more about that, but she also thought Ty had more to say about what he’d been conflicted about when it came to her. “Why’s that?” she asked, deciding to stick with this thread for now.
“Because,” Ty said. “He’s struggled physically for years. He’s endured surgeries too. And yet, he just got married to the love of his life, and he runs this boarding stable.” Ty shrugged. “And he’s happy.”
“Did you think you couldn’t be happy?”
“After my accident? Absolutely. I thought I’d never be happy again.”
“Were you happy on the rodeo circuit?”
Ty checked Laura Ingalls’s chart, and then looked over to Winnie. “Happy enough, I guess. I wasn’tunhappy.” He exhaled and turned to get something from the wall in front of the stable. “She gets oats this morning.”
He went about giving Laura the feed bag, and then he took Winnie down to the next stall. “I don’t think I knew what happy and unhappy meant.”
“And you do now?”
“I one hundred percent do now.”
Winnie refrained from telling him that perhaps God had given this experience to help him learn, and grow, and change. No one wanted to hear that half of their body had to be shattered so they could learn the difference between being happy and being unhappy.
“What were your other reservations about us?” Winnie asked quietly as Ty continued to stand there with Laura Ingalls.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Don’t do that with me.”
Ty looked at her, and Winnie let her eyes hook into his. She worked with plenty of men like him—hurting, broken men.
Ty was no longer the man who’d first walked into their initial PT appointment. He’d changed right before her eyes, and oh, Winnie felt herself falling for him right there in Stable C.
“I was worried I’d asked you out just so Trap couldn’t.” He cleared his throat and shifted his feet. “Winnie, I’m still learning how to listen to myself. How to feel things and understand what they are.”
She nodded. “I understand that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She tried to shrug and only pulled it off halfway. “Imagine you were a week away from marrying someone you love with your whole heart. And you think they love you too. They’ve said it lots of times. You’ve been together for overthree years. And then, she shows up and says she actually doesn’t love you, and hey, I’m also leaving town. Good luck to you.”
Winnie heard the very clear bitterness in her voice as the last word came out of her mouth. She couldn’t hold Ty’s gaze any longer, and she focused on Laura’s shiny, chestnutty coat. “That makes you wonder if you know anything. If you’ll ever be happy again. If you’re really as stupid as it seems, and you can actually hear the shattered pieces of your heart as the taillights drive away down the street.”
“Winnie, honey.” Ty brought her close to his chest.
