Page 8 of Reckless Skye

‘She’s sick. And my only other option is to send her to auction.’ He kicked at a loose stone and sent it flying. ‘I can’t do it. I might get a grand for her, but she’s young still. Doesn’t deserve to hit the pipeline just because my ex is a shitty person.’

That reckless and wild part of her, so newly free, started rising. And even though the rational part of her brain screamed, Food, vet bills, farrier fees, Skye couldn’t quite grasp them when faced with the alternative: living that little girl’s dream.

She knew she’d say yes. But sensing an opportunity, she acted long-suffering. ‘Jim, do you know what it costs to feed a horse?’ Although she didn’t say it, she thought: because I sure as shit don’t.

‘Three grand. Final offer. Truck, horse, and trailer.’

Skye pretended to think it over – for about one second. ‘Throw in a lesson on how to drive shift stick and you have yourself a deal.’

Jim held out a hand. ‘One lesson in shit stick included.’

As she sealed the deal that surge of freedom rose again. For the first time in her life, Skye was well and truly independent. And it didn’t scare her. She had been through too much for it to scare her. Instead, it thrilled her.

‘Let me get her fuelled up and check the oil and water for you.’ He shucked a thumb in the direction of the barn. ‘Go on. I can see you’re dying to take a look.’

Her act at nonchalance officially blown, Skye gave an excited squeal and ran in the direction of the barn, making Jim laugh.

She slid open the barn door and stepped inside.

It was dark and damp and smelled mouldy. She squinted until her eyes adjusted and then walked to where Andrea and Stevie stood in front of a single roped-off stall.

The horse inside was fuzzy with her winter coat, but even beneath her thick hair, her ribs were visible, and when Skye chanced a look down at her hooves, she saw the way they spread with overgrowth, well past a trim. The mare’s colouring was beautiful, almost an ash grey. She had a black stripe down her back and matching ones on her legs. Her eyes were alert, her ears pricked forward.

Skye ducked beneath the rope and stepped inside.

‘Ah, Skye. Maybe we should check with Jim first?’ Andrea suggested.

‘Why?’ Skye approached the horse with confidence, something she remembered from those early lessons. ‘She’s officially mine.’

She ran one hand down the horse’s neck, laughed when the horse rubbed a broad cheek against her torso.

‘Excuse me?’ Stevie asked. ‘Could you repeat that? It sounded like you said you bought the friggin’ horse …’

‘Jim gave her to me for free and knocked a grand off the truck for sparing him the inconvenience.’

‘Skye …’

Hearing the concern in her friend’s voice, she turned to meet Andrea’s eyes. ‘Yeah?’

‘I get that you need this – to make decisions for yourself. But this’ – she waved a hand at the horse – ‘feels a little irresponsible. I mean, how will you transport her—’

‘Jim threw in her trailer.’

Andrea blustered. ‘How will you feed her?’

‘I’ll work.’

‘Where will you keep her?’

Skye grinned. ‘Haul her to a new state park every day. I have Google, so I can check which ones have horse trails. Ride, camp, rinse, and repeat.’

Andrea clapped her hands with each word. ‘Stop. Making. It. Sound. Romantic. I mean, do you even listen to those true crime podcasts you’re always playing?’ She looked to Stevie for help. ‘Tell her this is crazy.’

Stevie nodded seriously. ‘This is crazy.’ Her grin was slow but wicked. ‘And I am so fucking excited for you!’

Skye turned to look in the mare’s eye. ‘Whattaya say, girl? You wanna hit the road with me?’

The horse snorted.