Page 106 of Forget That Guy
“In the equestrian community, a heart horse is generally used to describe a horse that you have a deep emotional connection with,” Catalina added matter-of-factly. “A one in a million, never going to have that kind of horse again, kind of horse.”
“Oh,” DeeDee hummed. “What happened to yours?”
I thought about Harry and smiled, even though it was hard to dive into those memories without feeling like I was going to cry.
“When I was eleven, Dad entered this auction and came across this abused one-year-old horse. He was so ugly. Had huge hips and walked funny. He hated everyone. Was so damn mean that literally everyone gave him a wide berth. And Dad saw him and thought…Holly would love him.”
“And you did love him, didn’t you?” Joe asked quietly.
“With my whole heart,” I said. “We got him young. I couldn’t ride him for a year. And then my dad said that if he was going to be mine, I had to take care of him. Train him. Ride him a lot. We grew up together. Learned to be an adult together. When we had to get rid of him, I cried so hard. It was the worst day of my life.”
They seemed to sense that I needed to change the topic, so they moved back to cows.
“Don’t you think it’s funny that cows leave their babies with babysitters?”
DeeDee looked over at me. “What?”
I gestured toward the one cow that had like twenty babies with her in the field just beyond the house. “Look at them. She’snot the mother of all of them. How do you think they assign babysitters?”
DeeDee looked contemplative for a long moment before she said, “Usually they foist their babies on the youngest mother. At least, that’s what I’ve found.”
“They’re so mean.” I snickered.
Dinner was finished, and the only thing that was left was a single enchilada, which I put on a plate in the fridge for Denver when he got home.
I stayed around his place for an hour after the girls all went to bed and eventually decided to head to my apartment.
As I did, I thought about leaving.
It made my heart hurt to think about that, but maybe that was what needed to happen. I mean, it wasn’t like me moving out to my own place would really be that big of a deal. Right?
I got ready for bed and tossed and turned for an hour before I fell into a fitful sleep.
At some point in the night, a warm body slipped between the sheets next to me, and I woke with a hand doing naughty things to my body.
Denver and I made love in the dark.
It was sweet and soft and everything that I never knew that I needed.
When I woke up the next morning, he was gone.
The stalls were cleaned. The horses were fed. And I felt like I had one reminder that I wasn’t necessarily needed here.
I didn’t like the feeling at all.
TWENTY-SIX
I remember being able to get up without making sound effects. Good times.
—Denver to Holly
DENVER
“Give her a reason to stay, Dad.”
I looked at my oldest girl and said, “Short of throwing myself at her, which she’s already indicated that she wouldn’t care for me to do, I got nothin’.”
That wasn’t completely the truth.
