She takes hers off and puts it on my head. “Here. You can borrow mine.”
I chuckle. “Thanks.”
“Happy to help.”
We make our way to the barn, saddle up the horses, and head out.
The sun is just starting to fall, casting the skies in purples, pinks, and still a few blues. I want to bring her back to my favorite part of the land. Where we can just be away from it all.
Tessa follows and pulls alongside me when I stop and we both dismount. We walk hand in hand over to the small clearing where the grass is low enough I can put the blanket out.
We sit, her back against my front, enjoying the silence and just being together.
After a while, Tessa speaks. “I’m glad we came here.”
“I used to ride out here all the time. It’s been a while.”
I can feel her stare on me. “Why did you stop?”
My sister isn’t a topic I talk about with anyone. Even my friends. However, with Tessa, it’s almost too easy and I find myself saying words that I’ve never admitted to anyone else.
“Losing Alicia was difficult in so many ways. I felt as though I failed her and the promise I made to my parents. They died when I was in college and I vowed to take care of her, to make sure she was happy, which I think I did in a way.” At least I tried. “This was her favorite place. She would saddle up Midnight and come out here anytime she wanted to just escape the hell she was in. Even when riding was painful—physically—she did it.”
Tessa looks up at me from the side. “You’re a great brother and man.”
“I hope so.” My eyes meet Tessa’s and a moment of silent understanding passes between us. It’s as though she can see right through me. “I wanted to give her peace.”
“You did, Killian. I may not have met your sister, but I know that if my brother did all this for me, I would cherish it. It would be the most precious gift that anyone could’ve given me.”
I swallow and turn my gaze back out to the mountain range. “And what gift would you ask for?”
Tessa falls silent, and I wait for her to tell me.
“A way to make a difference,” she finally says before turning back to me. “I’d love to have a place I could open a place for girls who were struggling like me. When I went to that camp, it saved me in so many ways. I’d want to give other young girls the same opportunity.”
“Why can’t you?”
She laughs. “Money. Land. Life. All of the things that matter. Besides, I can’t open a horse camp in New York City, not really any real estate options for that, and I really don’t want to go back to Indiana.”
“I would agree with you there, but those aren’t the only places you could live.”
Her sigh cuts through me as it’s filled with resignation and sadness. She sits up and turns to face me. “I can’t, Killian. My family is complicated, and I have to take care of them as much as I can. I’m new at my job, I make enough to live and help out. It leaves very little extra funds to buy horses, land, staff, building out a camp, all of that. It’s not that easy and I know that things aren’t supposed to be. I’m not naive that way, but it would be pretty much impossible for me to achieve it at this point in my life.”
“I don’t think it’s impossible. Difficult, absolutely and maybe it’s not the right time, but don’t give up on something you want.”
She shakes her head. “I wish it were that simple.”
“Did the camp you went to close?”
“Yes, about two years ago. The costs were high and…a lot of the staff tried to save it, but they ran on a lot of donations that dried up. Most of the girls who went there were from single-income homes, so there weren’t a lot of discretionary funds to send your daughter to a camp like that. The upkeep was also astronomical, as you know, feeding, housing, medical care, and all the other things with the horses alone were high costs. Then you had to feed the campers, house them, and insurance…it was a lot. I did a bunch of fundraisers to try to help through the years, but it was a drop in the bucket and couldn’t make a meaningful difference.”
I wish she saw her strength the way I do. Not everyone would work so hard to benefit others. She wasn’t going to gain anything by keeping the camp open. Her life was already forged, she was working or going to school, but to give another girl, even one more, a chance to have a better life, she sacrificed her time.
I cup her cheek. “I bet you made a big of difference for the girls who got to go there because of your efforts.”
She tilts her head and rests her hand against mine. “Just like you did for your sister by giving her a place to be safe.”
I walked right into that one.
