Everything he had was gone somehow. The only thing left was him. And he didn’t know how to exist without all the rest.
His grandpa had taken him shopping, but Gunner didn’t care about new clothes. Or a new bike. Or replacement baseball cards. He didn’t even pick them out because they didn’t matter. Why would he let them matter when they could be taken in the blink of an eye? Losing hurt too much.
Now Gunner rolled to his back and flung an arm over his face, trying to erase the nightmare from his memory. He thought he was done with that wretched memory. Or that it was done with him. It had plagued him for so many years and then faded away like the mist over a pond on a cool fall morning.
But now it was back.
The nightmare made it all fresh and raw again. Memoriesrolled through his mind. His mom had always stayed home with him. She was wonderful. She handled the day-to-day running of the house. On the side she made special-occasion cakes—tiered wedding cakes, covered with cascading flowers, and birthday cakes in every theme imaginable. His favorite was the Spider-Man cake she made for his seventh birthday.
His dad had put in long hours as a plumber, but he was the one Gunner worshipped. When he was home he was the fun dad, taking Gunner to Twins games, watching Saturday morning cartoons with him, and fishing with him.
Only after Gunner was all grown up did he realize his mom had gotten the short stick where his regard was concerned. That thought always made him ache with regret. Had he ever told her what a great mother she was?
He sucked in one deep breath after another, trying to remind himself that he wasn’t drowning. Trying to shake the paralyzing fear that he was doomed.
He let thoughts of Charlie flood through instead. Let them take up all the space the nightmare had filled. Let them soothe him.
But something dark and slippery persisted. It sprang up from the shadowy corners of his mind. From the storehouse of each and every cell that remembered something he’d briefly and stupidly forgotten the past two weeks: Anything could be snatched away at a moment’s notice. And the pain of losing it could last a lifetime.
Thirty-Nine
Even sleep-deprived and miserable, Charlotte could see from yards away that something was off with Gunner. She’d overslept. And when she’d awakened at almost eight to the memory of hurt and anger on Gavin’s face, she wanted to pull the covers over her head and fall back into the oblivion of sleep.
But there were horses to care for. Besides, she needed to tell Gunner everything that had happened last night. Get his advice. How would she fix things with her brothers? By now she was probably persona non grata with the entire Robinson family.
She’d tried to call Gunner twice last night, but his battery must’ve gone dead. She hadn’t bothered leaving a message. She’d called Craig instead and told him what had happened after he left the restaurant. He handled the news with grace, but Charlotte could hear the disappointment in his voice as he assured her everything would be okay. His kindness in the face of adversity brought tears to her eyes.
But now as she approached the barn where Gunner was mucking out stalls, she could see something else was awry. Hisshoulders were tense as he stabbed the shovel into the hay. His brows pinched together and a frown tugged his lips.
Surely he wasn’t upset about her late start. “Good morning.”
He barely glanced her way. “Morning.”
All thoughts of her own troubles fled as a niggle of fear squirmed up her spine. “Sorry I’m late. I must’ve turned off the alarm and gone back to sleep.” She grabbed a shovel and went to work in a nearby stall. “You should’ve called. You didn’t have to do all this yourself.”
He pitched a load of soiled hay into the wheelbarrow. “No problem.”
She watched him for a moment, that fear blooming in her chest, compressing her lungs. “Is something wrong? You seem upset.” The last time she’d said that, they’d been about to deliver a foal. About to have a kiss that just knocked her socks off. She had a terrible feeling this discussion wouldn’t end the same way.
He emptied another load, then set down his shovel and faced her. His resigned look made her want to rescind the question. Made her want to return to her house and crawl under the covers.
He came around the partition and stood at the open gate of the stall she was cleaning. He stared at some point near her feet. “Listen... I think we need to talk. Maybe we should sit down somewhere.”
Her spine stiffened in defense. She leaned her shovel against the wall. “Sounds serious.” He was gonna break up with her. It didn’t take a genius to recognize the signs. After all, she’d done the very same thing to Kyle less than three weeks ago. She braced herself for the coming impact. “I’d rather just talk right here.” Where the familiar scents of hay and horseflesh could comfort her.
“All right.” He absently rubbed his stomach, his gaze lightingeverywhere but on her. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, especially the past couple weeks. It’s meant a lot to me.Youmean a lot to me. And this might seem sudden, but— You asked me before to let you know if—”
“You’re leaving.” Her tone was somehow flat despite the fact that her heart was splintering into a million pieces.
He finally made eye contact.
And now that he had, she couldn’t seem to pull her attention from the deadness she saw there. It was as if someone had shut off all the lights, locked all the doors.
“I’m sorry.”
The backs of her eyes stung. That familiar lump swelled in her throat. She didn’t understand. She thought back to last night when they’d parted ways. Everything had seemed fine. They’d kissed goodbye and he pressed a sweet kiss to the top of her head before getting on his motorcycle and heading down the drive.
“What happened? Did I do something wrong?”
