Page 132 of All We Carry Home

Victor was in the way? Or Warren? I slammed my eyes shut. My throat constricted. Would Keith have hurt Warren if he hadn’t gone to Philadelphia weeks ago?

The officers pulled Keith out of the small room.

Stuart let out a long breath. “I’ve never—” He cleared his throat. “Um, of course the grand prize standing will be awarded to you, Miss Bryant. Mr. Merrick will be stripped of all his awards and membership. What horrible business this is. I trust, Miss Bryant, that we can keep this matter under wraps. Rumors spread so quickly . . .”

Warren led me out of the office, perhaps as equally annoyed by the pretentious man who had lost sight of everything that had been revealed.

A man’s life was gone.

A young man was now condemned for the rest of his.

Two lives, lost.

The echo of my parents’ sins returned once more. I would never be free of them.

The next few hours were a flurry of police, spectators, and show officials covering each inch of the show grounds. Violet and Cheryl helped me clean and bandage my wound, and by the time I’d changed my outfit, the veterinarian on-site had treated Phantom’s cut as well.

The final classes had ended, and competitors, horses, and law enforcement officials slowly filtered away from the grounds. A calm and quiet settled over what had been chaos.

Darkness wrapped around the barns. Lucky and Warren were the only ones left, and while they were talking quietly at the end of the aisle, I took Phantom from his stall and led him to the large arena. Where he’d won the champion title but not in the moment. Where we’d put on a good show and overcome the hardest obstacle I could ask of him.

His neck had a neat row of stitches and thick smear of ointment to keep it soft while it healed. The blood had been cleaned from his pearl-white coat, but the dark red spots that painted his bloody shoulder mark remained as brilliant as ever.

The mark of a warrior.

In the arena, I took off his halter again and walked with him silently. We hadn’t had the chance for our victory lap. So I’d take this small, quiet one and say farewell to the horse I loved.

The time had come to find him a new home. If ever I was sure of it, it was after seeing the ripple of destruction in my wake earlier that day.

Eddie wouldn’t have been shot. Peter wouldn’t have been bitten. And Keith . . . I couldn’t let Warren get caught up in the bad luck that seemed to follow me.

After a lap, I looked up to see Warren leaning along the railing, his gaze tender as he watched us. As Phantom and I drew near, the horse walked over and sniffed him.

Warren rubbed the horse’s face affectionately and then asked, “Mind if I join you?”

I motioned to the empty arena, and he climbed over the wall and landed next to me in the dirt. We resumed walking, and Phantom, who knew from my lack of cues and focus that he wasn’t in a lesson, wandered off and sniffed the ground.

Now it was just Warren and me.

I missed him. I missed this. The walks we’d taken late at night, the pre-dawn trail rides, and sitting together as the sun emerged.

“How’s the campaign going?” I asked, my voice strained.

“Your notebook has been helpful,” he said, though that didn’t really answer my question. “That jump was amazing. Was this another Bill trick?”

“No.” My chest inflated with pride. “That was one of mine.”

He chuckled warmly, kicking a dirt clod aside as we circled the arena in tentative silence. Small talk didn’t become us.

It was also time for me to tell Warren the truth. His words before he’d flown back to Philly had echoed in my heart every day. He deserved an explanation.

After today, my soul was fractured enough as it was. Why not tell him and face the inevitable cringe and repulsion—the way Keith had responded when I’d told him my parents’ identity. Then he’d have no aversion to finding Phantom a new home. He’d probably be angry I’d let it go so far. What if the press of this day caught wind and it damaged his campaign?

He’d know now what a fool and coward I truly was. He’d leave me in the rearview mirror and never look back.

And that was for the best.

Warren