Each step I think will be the one he resists, pulls back. But we keep going, completing two full circles of the paddock. “Good work, Fury,” I say, running a gentle hand over his neck. His muscles tense, but again he stays with me. “Wanna try outside the paddock? You must be getting bored of the same view every day.”
I lead the stallion to the gate and we walk through. Fury’s head is high, his eyes alert. When we reach the paddock separating the other stallions, Fury halts, ears forward. He gives a low whinny, like he’s saying hello. My heart lurches at the sound. He’s snorted plenty since he’s been here, but that’s the first time I’ve heard him call out a greeting.It’s the first interest he’s shown in being around other horses.
“You wanna try hanging out with them?” I murmur.
When he doesn’t pull back or shift his legs, I carefully open the gate. Fury hesitates for a moment before stepping forward. With slow movements, I unclip the lead rein, watching Fury forany sign of panic or aggression. Instead, he simply dips his head to graze like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
A grin spreads across my face as I back away and close the gate. This is progress. This is huge. This is Fury accepting his place on the ranch. OK, so he might be way off taking a saddle, and he still eyeballs the hell out of me and any other human when we’re too close, but he’s also no longer fighting me every step of the way. He’s choosing to stay.
I spin around, ready to tell Izzy. To see her face light up like mine is right now.
But there’s no one to tell. She’s gone.
The win turns to dust in my mouth.I swallow hard, the ache in my chest deepening. She didn’t stay. She didn’t fight for us. Or let me choose to fight for us. She just packed up and left. That’s what really gets me.
So what now?
I’ve been clinging to this place like it’s the only future left for me. But if Izzy can walk away from it so easily, maybe I need to stop pretending this ranch is the only place I belong.
What if there is a place for me with the Stormhawks after all? What if I have more to give? Why the hell shouldn’t I go talk to Coach?
Fuck it. I’m going.
THIRTY-EIGHT
IZZY
IZZY:Are you sure you’re OK to pick Mad up from school?
HOOPER:I said I would, didn’t I?
IZZY:Let your mom and dad know if you can’t, so they know to go!
HOOPER:I got this!
FLIC:How are you holding up?
IZZY:The same as when you asked me yesterday and the day before that.
IZZY:I’m OK, I promise!
FLIC:You wanna hang out at the bar while I clean the beer pumps?
IZZY:Tempting as that is, I can’t. I’m on a tour of the new school my parents want to send Madison to.
FLIC:What’s it like?
IZZY:Impressive.
FLIC:Is it right for Mad?
FLIC:You know I’ve got your back no matter what. But I need to say this before you fuck up your life completely… Making decisions your parents (or anyone else for that matter) don’t agree with doesn’t mean they’re mistakes! It means they’re the right choices for you.
The school grounds are immaculate. Neatly trimmed grass and pruned flower beds—not a weed in sight. The buildings are three stories high and grand, like they’ve stood for a hundred years, except they also look brand new. As we approach a courtyard, a class of children moves in a quiet, orderly line, their ironed blue uniforms pristine under the late afternoon sun. Their teacher smiles politely at our tour group of prospective parents as they pass.
From beside me, Mom shoots me another of herSee? See how perfect this life will be for Madison?looks. I barely contain my eye roll. She’s already annoyed I’m wearing my black sundress instead of the blouse and skirt of hers she’d laid on the bed for me. I hide a smile as I think of her face if I’d worn the denim cutoffs that drive Dylan wild.Drove, I correct with a slice of pain that comes from nowhere, ambushing me just as it has done countless times since I left Oakwood Ranch two weeks ago.
As we round a corner toward the tennis courts, Mom shoots a pointed look at my phone as Flic’s final message arrives. I readit fast before shoving my phone into my bag and swallowing down the lump of anxiety that’s been lodged in my throat since I arrived at my parents’ house in the middle of the night after the call from Coach Allen. After my world fell apart.
