I was alone.
The barn felt too big. The night felt too close. The gate clicking in my memory felt like a warning I’d ignored.
My hands started shaking, and I couldn’t stop them.
That was when I yanked my phone out, thumb hitting Wyatt’s name before I could talk myself out of it again. And when it rang, all I could think was that I waited too long.
Eighteen
Wyatt
It was early evening, I’d spent all day at the brewery, and now I was elbow deep in the engine of an old baler when Holt jogged across the yard toward me. He looked uneasy, and Holt never looked uneasy.
“She called.”
My pulse snapped tight. “Tessa?”
He handed me my phone. “She’s called three times.”
I wiped my hands on a rag and hit callback. She answered on the first ring, breathless and shaking.
“Wyatt.” Just my name, but said in a way that punched me straight in the sternum.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ray’s old cutting horse. She’s down in her stall. Rolling. Sweating. You’re closer than Brooke. I don’t need her out, but I need help getting the horse up.” Her words were fast, and while she was making sense, there was panic hiding in her voice.
Colic, shit.
“I’ll be right there.”
“I tried walking her. She keeps trying to throw herselfdown. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know how to stop it.”
“You did the right thing calling me.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“Oh, believe me, I know.”
I hung up before I could say anything else stupid and grabbed Holt. “Bring the colic kit, a lead rope, and gloves.” He didn’t question it. We climbed into the truck and tore down the gravel road faster than was smart.
When we pulled into her yard, Tessa was already outside the barn, pacing like an animal that didn’t know whether to run or fight. Her hair stuck to her forehead, her shirt was damp with sweat, and her hands were shaking hard enough that I could see it from the truck.
“She’s in here,” she said quietly, leading us inside.
The mare was down, flanks heaving, sides drenched with sweat as she rolled and kicked at her belly, eyes wild with pain. It was bad colic, the kind that didn’t leave room for denial.
“What did you give her today?” I asked.
“Just her feed,” Tessa said. “Not much. And she had plenty of water. She was fine this morning.”
“It can come on fast.”
“I know that, I’m not stupid,” she snapped.
“I didn’t say you were.” I wasn’t sure if I’d ever met a woman who was so maddening, but at least right now I could pinpoint the reason.
She rubbed her arms hard like she was trying to hold herself together. “I’m scared.”
