That tendril of hope continued to unfurl in my chest, like a crocus after a hard winter. Hope could choke out the weeds of guilt and shame if I cultivated it enough. I wanted that, wanted to live in a world where hope and love replaced my doubts.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Carson
“There you go.”I had Linus up on some wobbly yoga-style foam blocks, working on his balance and limb awareness. He was doing so well today, scarcely any anxiety as I put him through his paces. I hoped I could say the same for my boyfriend.
I supposed boyfriend was the right word. We were friends. He was a guy. We were also sleeping together, and I loved him. Wasn’t sure what other word to use because Jude sure as shit would balk at some of the more permanent words.
Might.He might love me too. Ha. He did love me, full stop. He, like Linus, still had some anxiety to work through. Jude was also doing better each day. A week since the support group meeting. Another week of settling into being a couple. A week for him to turn his breakdown into a breakthrough. He’d contacted one of the counselors Simone recommended, a big step for someone who’d been so determined not to have a problem.
We all got shit to shovel.I’d heard the saying before, but never had it seemed more true. Everyone at the support group had shit to shovel, Jude included. Me too. The guilt discussion had rattled some crap loose for me as well. One of my physical therapists had said that no one came through military service unscathed. Wise woman. Everyone had scars, visible or not.
Linus gave a gentle whinny as I led him off the blocks. He also bore the legacy of his past, a hurt I couldn’t take away or change, but together, we were finding a way forward. I wanted the same thing with Jude.
“Wow.” The man in question strode up to the arena gate as Linus and I finished. “I’m impressed.”
“He’s working hard.” I gave the horse a pat on our way over to Jude.
“So are you.” Jude’s eyes darted around like he was having trouble figuring out how to greet me.
I decided for him, giving him a fast kiss as I led Linus out of the arena. Affection felt like a new pair of boots—nice but a bit of an awkward break-in period. Worth it though for Jude’s startled noise and pleased smile.
“School kids coming Tuesday,” I shared as I got Linus situated back in his stall.
Adler had arranged for the first of several elementary school visits. I wasn’t sure I shared his and Maverick’s enthusiasm.
“Are you nervous?” Jude handed me Linus’s favorite brush.
“Nah.” I was a better liar than Jude, but he arched his eyebrows at me until I finally gave in. “Hope kids can understand me.”
“They will.” Jude was a lot more certain than I was. My speech was so much better these days, but I still struggled when tired or with longer sentences. Jude was having none of my doubts, though, and clapped me on the shoulder. “They’ll see how much work you and Linus have done. “
“He’s a good horse.” It was my stock answer anytime anyone wanted to compliment my progress with Linus. He was the one doing all the work, not me.
“And you’re a good trainer.” Jude set his jaw, determined to make me take the praise.
“Eh. I try.” Brushing done, I moved on to settling Linus in for the night, adjusting his fan and checking his feed and water. “Colt wasn’t happy I paid.”
“For the MRI? You did what you thought best.” Jude chose a diplomatic reply when I knew full well he also thought I should have waited for the ranch to make a decision on the bill. “What did Maverick say?”
“Hasn’t mentioned it.” That was the part that was weighing on me. Two weeks since I’d fessed up to Colt, and not a word from the big boss. No way had Colt kept that information to himself, but I wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up first.
“Should be an interesting dinner.” Jude’s laugh had a forced quality to it.
“Look less excited.” I bumped his shoulder before stepping past him so I could close the stall door.
“Sorry.” Jude pulled me close. “I’m ready. I am.”
“Good.” I gazed up at him. “And happy?”
“Very.” He gave me a quick kiss, but I didn’t let him escape, looping my arms around his neck and stealing a second. Then a third.
“Oops.” Adler made a world of clatter as he exited Cupid’s stall farther down the row. Adler waved an apologetic hand our direction. “Don’t stop on my account. I was just stopping by to check on Cupid before dinner.”
“We’re done.” My cheeks felt as seared as a ribeye at a steakhouse.
“You’re coming to the dinner?” Jude asked as I groaned.
