CHAPTER 25

west

I almost left town—I really did. I couldn’t come up with a damn good reason to stay. Horses weren’t enough of one. At least, I had myself convinced of that. But on my way out, I drove past the old Mathew’s farm and saw the cheap horse for sale sign. I should’ve driven right on past it, taken my five hundred thousand, and vanished.

But I couldn’t. Not without asking first.

It took all of five minutes before I was signing papers to buy Thunder Jack. If they couldn’t sell him, they were going to put him down. A bucking horse made to be wild and then wouldn’t let them tame him didn’t deserve death. He deserved freedom.

And I could give him that.

Me.

So, I bought a horse with the little bit of money I took from Jackson. Had to buy a trailer from them too just so I could get Thunder Jack back to the ranch.

Unfortunately, buying him and returning to the ranch meant I had to stay sober. I hadn’t gone a single day without a drink for the better part of a fucking decade. Alcohol kept the demons at bay and without it, I could feel the darkness pressing in. It made my skin crawl and left me desperate for a distraction.

Maybe I’d buy another horse or two to help with that. Who fucking knew?

It was painfully clear Thunder Jack didn’t know how to be around people or other horses. The Mathews had done him wrong, which meant I had to compensate to make sure all hell didn’t break loose.

It meant keeping him in the trailer with the half-door open so he could see everything going on around him while I readied Jackson’s horse for the afternoon—since that whole thing was still my job. The look on Jackson’s face as he watched me was unnerving. Like this meant more than it was.

It couldn’t. He had to see that my mess wasn’t worth it.

By the time his horse was sufficiently groomed and saddled, my skin was crawling. The endless observation got to me. I wanted a fucking drink to calm my nerves.

“This ain’t me saying yes,” I said quietly and held onto Zeus’s reins while Jackson mounted him. Why? I didn’t fucking know. I didn’t need to. He had complete control of his horse. It just gave me something to do with my hands.

“I know,” Jackson replied.

“This is about the horses,” I continued, running at the mouth. He leaned forward and rested on the horn of his saddle. Those blue eyes watched me closely, setting my nerves on fire. Shit. Why did this have to be so fucking uncomfortable?

“I know,” he repeated.

“You suck at taking care of them—all of you. Someone needs to be trained or hired or something.” I was rambling. “They don’t deserve to be treated like crap.”

“They won’t no more,” he promised. The intensity in his gaze bore right through me. Why the fuck did it feel like he wasn’t talking about horses?

“And I ain’t saying no either.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Fuck, my head was a disaster. Why the hell had I said that? I shouldn’t have said it.

“Good.” He grinned—a glimpse of hope in his expression that made me want to go running. Why couldn’t we go back to fighting? I could fight all fucking day long. I was used to that shit. This friendly bullshit had me on edge. “Your stables, your rules, West.”

God damn it. Could my frown get any deeper? Probably.

I handed him the reins, making sure his hand never touched mine. I couldn’t handle that. Not now.

“Come on, boy.” Jackson clicked his tongue at Zeus and gently nudged him forward. “See you tonight, West.”

I just grunted and walked away. Fuck, I was in over my head.

As it turned out, Thunder Jack was about as fucking grumpy as I was. There was no easy way to approach him. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t give up that easily. I kept him corralled and cut off from the rest of the horses but did my work alongside him. I brought every horse next to him for grooming and maintenance, forcing a little side-by-side socialization. Whenever I gave one of them a treat, I left one on the fence post by his head—never looking. He wouldn’t take a damn thing if he thought I was watching him.

He liked carrots and celery the best, refused sugar cubes and pumpkin, and didn’t seem to mind bananas. But only if I wasn’t looking. We’d get there. An unfamiliar sense of excitement weaseled its way inside me as I discovered these little things about him, especially when he grew bolder in searching for them. Maybe it was a dumb thing to get excited over—I didn’t have a clue—but I was.

The afternoon passed quickly and before I knew it, the sun was setting on the horizon. The ranch hands filtered back to the stables in pairs. I bounced between stripping saddles and leaving treats for Thunder Jack just because. The increase in activity had him more on edge. But Bailey—the sweet girl that she was—hung around the fence where he was. Maybe he minded, maybe he didn’t. Who knew?

I didn’t talk to any of the guys. I wasn’t interested, and honestly, the alcohol withdrawal made them even more intolerable. I was dying inside. The hard work and horse company helped, but with every passing minute, even that wasn’t enough. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to get through this shit.

Jackson was the last to trail in with that stupid smile that broke his stupidly handsome face irritated me as he and Zeus approached.

“Good afternoon?” he asked as he pulled up alongside me. I said nothing. I wasn’t in the mood for his antics. I just took Zeus’s reins and went to work removing his saddle. I’d brush him down after giving him a chance to roam and eat.

I expected Jackson to leave when I didn’t fucking reply, but he stayed. Damn it. I could barely handle being around myself. The last thing I wanted was him there too.

“Did you eat dinner?” The question sparked frustration. I didn’t need him to take care of me.

“I don’t need your help,” I snapped and never glanced up from my work.

“I just asked if you ate dinner,” Jackson said a little too calmly. It grated on my nerves. Irrational? Maybe.

“No,” I muttered. Maybe if I answered him, he’d go the fuck away. Granted, I couldn’t fucking eat anyway. The nausea threatened to take me out by the knees. This withdrawal thing was fucking brutal, and I just knew it’d get worse.

“You should eat,” he told me. Motherfucker . I was going to kill a fucking cowboy for being irritating as all hell.

I held my tongue because I didn’t trust myself if I opened my mouth. I was just as likely to bitch him out as I was to hit him. What I’d do was a fucking crapshoot was what it was with Jackson being the brunt of it no matter what.

“Good night, West,” he said, but I only let out an annoyed sound in response. Over his shoulder, he called, “Door will be open if you want to use the guest room instead of the stables. Don’t let Tess out or you’ll be chasing her around the ranch all night long.”

I scowled. Just what fucking game was he playing at? I didn’t need his charity. The stables were just fine. I’d survived worse.

I threw myself into my work—pushing myself ten times harder to distract from the hazy thoughts weaving through my mind. But when I lay down around midnight to rest and closed my eyes, the screaming started. It echoed with unwanted memories in the back of my head .

Every muscle locked up while I tried unsuccessfully to push them down. The very clothes I wore were fucking razors slicing across my skin. That familiar panic clawed its way into my chest again—a reminder of all the shit I desperately tried to forget.

Hot tears burned down my cheeks as I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. I just wanted to sleep. I was so fucking tired.

But the harder I tried to force it, the worse it became until I was convinced I’d die just lying there. I surged to my feet and took up pacing. But pacing only made the spiral happen faster. The sadistic voices in the back of my head picked up speed, tearing me apart little by little.

With a wordless scream, I punched the stall door. Once. Twice. Three times. And kept going until I was bloodied and the pain in my knuckles drowned out the demons in my head. I shook violently from head to toe as I stormed out.

If I couldn’t sleep, there was work to be done.