Page 47 of All We Carry Home

Eva petted the filly and avoided all our eyes. “I’m fine.”

Keith shot me a glare. “Was this your horse’s doing?”

Defensiveness flared within me and fought back against my guilt. Was the injury from Phantom? When else could it have happened except this morning?

“Stop it,” Eva snapped. “Keith, I’ll call you when she’s ready to be picked up in a few months.”

I followed Eva and the filly, and Eddie instinctively held Keith at bay in the driveway.

“What happened?” I asked her as I fell into step beside her.

“It’s nothing.” She flushed slightly. “Phantom caught me off guard.”

“I thought he was getting better.”

She drew the horse to a stop and faced me. “Training a horse isn’t always a linear process, and no two horses have the same path. I’m still making progress.”

This sudden tension wasn’t about the injury or my perceived lack of faith in her methods. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about going to see Stuart,” I said softly.

She blinked, and the lines in her forehead smoothed slightly. “You’re free to do whatever you deem fit.”

“It involved you and your reputation. I just wanted the matter put to rest, and I didn’t want you to talk me out of it.”

She looked toward the driveway, where Eddie and Peter spoke with Keith, all three squared off in rigid postures. “And I should have given you a warning that Keith was dropping off a horse today,” she said. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Does Victor know about this?”

“I don’t think so.” She drew in a breath. “But Keith’s a paying customer, and Birkstrom needs every patron I can get.”

“What if he’s manipulating you or planning to say his horse was mistreated by you?” I crossed my arms.

“Keith wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“Victor would.”

“Then I’ll deal with that if it comes up.”

Deep down, I knew Keith’s reasons were more than just a business decision. He cared for her and wanted every reason to stay close, even if his father was a threat.

This was her farm, her life. I was only here a few more weeks or a few more months at the most.

I motioned to the wrap on her arm. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

She nodded. “I’ve faced far worse bumps and bruises,” she said while rotating her shoulder stiffly. “Even a bullet wound.”

My whole body tensed. I hadn’t expected to hear that. “What?”

She waved it away. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I thought the hospitals had been kept clear of the hot zones.”

Something in my voice or my words seemed to rankle her, and she frowned. “In Europe, maybe. The islands were a different story.”

I felt winded, as if Phantom had stepped square on my gut. I both wanted to know more and dreaded thinking of her in a situation like that. What my men and I had been through was horrible enough. The nurses and doctors were supposed to be safe from enemy fire.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed. “I had no idea.”

She hesitated. “That all seems so far ago.”