Page 139 of Then You Happened
own at the screen of my cell and stare at it for a beat.
Then I play the message again.
58
TATE
One month later . . .
“I’m assuming you’re getting my messages but don’t want to talk yet. I’m trying to be patient . . . but you know me, that isn’t an easy task. I talked to Will, and he said nine of the ten horses tested last week are pregnant. That’s nineteen of the twenty. Congrats. That’s great . . . Christ, listen to me. Picking up scraps so I have a reason to talk to you. I miss you. That’s all. I just miss you.”
59
JACK
One month later . . .
“Will?”
“Jack?” His laugh is surprised. “What’re you doing calling?”
“How is she?” I ask.
“Don’t do this to me, Jack. Don’t put me in the middle.” He sighs, and his voice lowers. “You mentioned me in a message . . . after Doc’s last visit, and Tate . . . she unloaded on me. Said she needed to be able to trust me. Please don’t . . .”
“Christ. Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to get you tangled in this. I’m just . . .”
“Fucking miserable?” He asks. “Sounds like it to me anyway.”
“Fucking miserable and then some,” I murmur as I take in the view from my porch. Miles upon miles of green, rolling hills stretch in front of me, and dozens of heads of cattle dot the land. I’m far from alone here with the full-time staff, but fuck if I don’t feel completely isolated and lonely.
“Then why did you give up so easily?” Will asks.
“I didn’t. Look, I did what she asked.” And I’ve regretted it every day since.
“Since when do you ever do what she says?”
60
JACK
One month later . . .
“Every time I call, I think this might be the time you pick up and talk to me. Every goddamn time. You told me I’d move on when I got home. I haven’t moved on, Tate. I don’t expect to either. I love you. Plain and simple. I love you.”
61
TATE
One month later . . .
I arch my back, trying to stretch away some of the exhaustion that has set in. It’s getting worse with each passing day, but there isn’t much I can do about it. It is what it is, and having a fully functioning breeding ranch is what I wanted. It’s what I got.
Now, I have to figure out how to do it.
“Harris is loading up the foal now,” Will says, referring to the extra hand we’ve hired to help with the sale of this season’s foals. “He’ll be back in a second to help.”
“What about this one?” I point to the fawn-colored colt walking in the ring. A bittersweet smile paints my lips as I think of the night he was born. The worry I felt and then the relief that coursed through me when Jack watched me from the other side of the stall.
