Page 79 of Holding Hope
The pain sat deep in my bones, sharp and unbearable. I wanted to kick and scream and beg him not to do it, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. The deal was done. Finalized. Artemis was no longer mine.
“You’re crying,” Avalon whispered. Her thumb brushed a tear from my cheek, gentle in a way that made my throat tighten. “Why are you crying?”
I sniffled, trying to force a smile. “Artemis doesn’t like the rain. I need to go to her.”
More tears spilled as I pulled away from her and hurried to the stall that held more childhood memories than I could count. Artemis trotted toward me with a high-pitched whinny, pressing her dark nose into my palm as if she already knew.
“Hey there, pretty lady,” I whispered, stroking her face. I pulled a small orchard apple from my pocket, laughing softly as she greedily bit into it. “That’s my girl.”
Footsteps rustled the hay behind me. I turned to find Avalon standing at the stall door, her expression soft with curiosity and sympathy. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I turned back to Artemis.
“I’ve known her since she was three months old,” I said quietly. “I was thirteen. Home from an awards show. Founder’s Day was coming up, and I begged Colton to sneak me into the stables where the auction horses were kept.”
Avalon snorted—gentle proof that she was listening.
“It was love at first sight,” I continued, pressing my face into Artemis’ mane. “Her mother died giving birth, and none of the other mares would claim her. She needed someone… so I became her mother.”
Memories flooded me—running through fields, our first barrel race, nights spent curled beside her during storms because she had no one else to hide behind.
“I think she’s my best friend,” I whispered, laughing through tears. “What am I going to do without you, old girl?”
My father had tried to sell her before, but I’d always stopped him. Artemis was mine. I’d earned her trust, her love, her victories. What right did he have to take her now?
“And your dad… he knows this?” Avalon asked softly.
I nodded. He knew. He just didn’t care. Not anymore.
Sighing, I walked to our favorite corner — the one farthest from the window overlooking the pasture. I sank into the hay, and Artemis followed, lowering herself beside me and resting her heavy head in my lap.
Thunder rolled in the distance. Rain began tapping against the metal roof. Artemis shifted restlessly, and I stroked her mane, whispering soft reassurances.
Avalon’s voice floated toward me. “What are you doing?”
She stood on a stool, giving herself a few extra inches of height. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun, her face bare. She looked younger like this — softer. Like she belonged here more than she realized.
“This is how we used to sleep when she was a baby,” I said. “She’d only sleep during storms if I was with her.”
A memory tugged a laugh from me. “Colton once tried to prove she wouldn’t know the difference between us. He dressed in my clothes — ones I’d stolen from him — and hid his hair under a hat.”
Avalon stepped closer, intrigued.
“It worked until bedtime,” I said. “She wouldn’t even enter the stall. Just stood there crying and shaking her head. And then Colton—being the stubborn idiot he was—tried to push her inside.”
I snorted. “You can guess how that went.”
“Damage?” Avalon asked, smiling.
I tapped the bridge of my nose. “Broken nose. Black eye.”
Thunder rumbled again, louder this time. Rain pattered steadily on the roof. Artemis shifted in my lap, still awake, still uneasy. It usually took her an hour to fall asleep deeply enough for me to slip away unnoticed.
But tonight…
Tonight, I wasn’t going anywhere.
Not when this might be our last storm together.
Keeping my attention on the large sleeping animal in my lap, I could sense Avalon inching closer—timid, hesitant, but unwilling to leave. She didn’t like the rain, that much was obvious, but she was too stubborn to walk away before things got bad.
