Off to the Races: A Small Town Enemies to Lovers Romance (Gold Rush Ranch Book 1)
Off to the Races: Chapter 17

I put my head down and trudge forward. I don’t know how long I’ve been walking when I hear voices echoing through the alleyways that lead to the covered arena. Violet has brushed DD as he walks, at least enough to get the caked-on mud off him, and he’s now wearing a yellow Gold Rush Ranch fleece blanket. Somehow Violet is calm and collected, and I’m the nervous wreck. She attends to him while I stare at my feet, watching each step and the imprint that it leaves in the sand. My shoe, next to his hoof, in perfect sync. His head is low and sullen, but he’s marching onward, trying his best for me.

Like always.

I don’t deserve him.

“Billie girl, she’s here.”

I look up and see Hank with Dr. Thorne and what looks like a big toolbox. I head their way with a wave. “Dr. Thorne, I’m just so glad you’re here. Thank you for coming all this way.”

She enters the gate, walking with precise movements towards me and DD. Her confidence is comforting. She’s completely no nonsense and I love that. I feed off it, trying to leech some of her strength.

“Hey, Big Guy.” She drags her hand down his neck a few times. “How we doing?”

She pinches his skin, checking to see his level of hydration. If the skin stays peaked, they’re dehydrated. If it flattens back out quickly, then all is well.

It stays peaked.

“Billie, how are you doing?” I stare at the spot on his neck as it slowly recedes into position.

“Billie, hun,” she snaps her fingers in front of me, “you okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah. Just tired.” She gives my shoulder a tight, reassuring squeeze.

“And worried. I could barely get him up out of the mud when I found him.”

“Okay, we’ll take care of him. I’m going to grab some fluids. We’re going to try to flush him out. We want to avoid surgery if we can. You just keep him walking.” She looks me firmly in the eye, grabbing both shoulders. “You’re doing great.”

I nod my head resolutely and get back to walking.

I am beyond exhausted; my day moves along like one of those slow-motion montages from a movie. But a boring shitty one, it’s all cut scenes of walking in big circles, reassuring DD, and switching his fluid bags. Dr. Thorne has come and gone. She has set us up with all the medication and fluids we’ll need, and she’s of the opinion that if he isn’t getting worse, he probably won’t need surgery.

I want to be relieved, but I’ll believe it when I see it.

She thinks his stress reaction triggered the episode which makes me want to kill Patrick and Cole even more. And probably just maim Vaughn for being such a fucking pushover. Idiots, the lot of them.

I’m so busy staring at the ground, I hardly notice Hank walk up beside me and drop a hand on my neck in a fatherly way.

“Billie girl, it’s been hours. It’s almost dinner time. You should go take a break. Let Violet and I walk him for a bit. Have some coffee, eat some food, take a nap, whatever you need. You look dead on your feet.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve known you a long time, and I know that you’re blaming yourself right now. You shouldn’t. You’ve always been too hard on yourself. None of this is your fault.”

I scoff at that, sniffling and looking up at the roof, willing the pooling tears to leak back into my eye sockets where they came from. “Hank, I very much appreciate you being here. I do. But this is absolutely my fault. You should go home and enjoy your day off, spend some time with your family. I’m better off by myself right now.”

And then, like he’s trying to make me break down, he says, “You’re my family too, you know.”

I can’t stop the tears then and I turn into him, into the safety and comfort of his embrace, and rest my face on his chest. I’m engulfed by his large frame, his soft plaid shirt wrapping around me like an old blanket. One large hand holds the back of my head and the other rubs up and down my back while he shushes me soothingly.

“Shhh. It’s going to be okay, Billie. We got this. Shhh.”

I allow myself a few minutes to seek comfort in his bear hug, and to find solace in his words. I don’t necessarily believe them, but it feels good to hear them all the same. When I pull back, I offer him a watery smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

He just smiles at me, rubbing my shoulders like he’s trying to build me up, pull me up taller. Shake me out of my funk. A soft nose nuzzles at my lower back, and I turn back to offer DD a kiss on his soft forehead.

“Stop crying, you’re upsetting your horse.” He winks at me. “You sure you want me to go?”

“Yes, I’ll call you with any updates. I know you’re just down the road if I need you.”

“Alright, alright,” he replies, waving a hand my way. “Violet, it’s your day off too, little lady. Go enjoy yourself.”

Violet stares back at him, alarmed. “But that leaves Billie all by herself. What if something happens? What if she needs help?”

A conspiratorial grin touches Hank’s lips. “She won’t, but if she does, you’ll be right upstairs,” is his reply as he leads Violet off of the benches at the end of the arena. She looks back at me to confirm I’m okay with this whole scenario. I nod and wave a hand at her to skedaddle.

Finally alone, I look back at DD. He seems incrementally more chipper, like his head isn’t hanging so low, and like he’s groaning less. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen him kick at his stomach in… I check my phone—about half an hour now. He nuzzles at me, and I scratch his ears before moving towards his ribcage to listen for gut sounds.

And I hear them.

Faint and fleeting, but definitely there. Relief washes over me like cool rain on a hot day. I know we’re not out of the woods yet, but this is concrete proof that his condition isn’t worsening. That sense of relief is cathartic and with no one around to see me, I burrow my face into DD’s shoulder and let the tears come. I haven’t cried this much in years. I didn’t even cry when I left home. The fact I have barely slept in two days is most definitely a contributing factor to the frazzled state of my emotional well-being. No sleep, and a roller coaster ride of emotions, has whipped me up and spit me out.

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I sob. Those bone-deep, body-wracking kind of sobs. It’s an ugly cry for sure. DD wraps his neck and head towards me, almost as though he’s shielding me, as I rub snot, and tears, and second day mascara onto his beautiful coat. Again.

“I’m so sorry,” I weep into the little bubble we’ve created between us.

That’s when I feel a hand cup my elbow, and a jolt of electricity runs up to my shoulder. A current that feels far too raw, and far too recent for me to handle right now.

“Billie, come here.”

I freeze in position.

“No.”

“Yes. Now.” Vaughn says, and it’s a command, not a request. He uses a voice that I’ve only heard him try to use a few times with me. Usually, it pisses me off. But falling apart here and now, it feels more like the direction I need. Like maybe all the strength in his voice means I can lean on him instead of propping myself up so poorly.

I turn around and look at him, biting at my lips to keep them from wobbling, wiping at my cheeks to try to cover up how hard I’ve been crying. Like he wouldn’t have heard me or wouldn’t be able to see what a hot mess I am right now. He doesn’t give me a pitying look, and I could hug him for that alone. I don’t want anyone to see me like this, and I especially don’t want their pity. It’s an affront to my pride, to my whole carefully concocted carefree persona.

He puts his arms out and glares at me. “Come here.”

And I go to him.

Against all my better judgement. Against everything I know about him. Against everything my logical brain is telling me to do. I collapse into his arms. And he props me up, like I knew he would. He doesn’t placate me or tell me it’s going to be okay. He doesn’t offer me fake words or try to console me, to fix me. He just lets me be. And as memories of all our quiet moments together bubble up in my mind, I realize maybe he cares about me more than I thought.

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