I can’t believe I feel asleep on him. Still, it was gut wrenching to wake up and find that he’d slipped away at some point in the night. Not that I care all that much, of course. He can come and go. He has a life. A daughter. He can’t just stay forever, even after some amazing sex.

Besides, I have work to do. So much work to do.

I let Jenny and the colt out to pasture for some exercise and I realize the little colt doesn’t come up to me like he had to Olivia. That little girl had something special. The colt saw that. His fluffy coat was starting to come in glossy. His dark grey coloring, and grey eyes left him looking like an incoming storm.

In every way, he reminds me of the man and girl who’d come into my life around the same time he had. They were a storm. A force to be reckoned with. They simultaneously offered life and doom all at once, like a tornado bringing rain and damage.

“Hey, Storm!” I shout. Aside from a twitch of his tail, he doesn’t even acknowledge me. Jenny walks over, offering her head for some rubs even as the colt takes off the other direction, racing into the wind like he’s a mustang on the open plains.

“Tornado!” I call, less sure this time. He continues to ignore me as Jenny lips at my shirt, her need for attention endearing. From the fence, I slip onto her bare back, feeling her under me for the first time in a long time. This little lady has been my favorite for as long as I can remember.

I grip on, turning her with my legs and holding her mane. Dad would have killed me if he saw me like this, I an open pasture, riding without gear, without safety. But it’s the most freeing feeling in the world.

“After him!” I tell her, but she’s ahead of me. The ground flies under us and she catches up to her little colt. With a glance, he challenges us and speeds up. He’s not the clumsy little colt he was, no, he’s growing. His legs are longer, and he’s clearly been thriving in his pasture time with his momma.

He races us, the wind, the world as we streak through the pasture. When Jenny begins to slow, he looks over at her, then keeps going for a while after she slows a bit. And I remember what Olivia said.

“Warrior!” I shout, and he turns and begins to trot our direction. Jenny lifts her head and drops it, lifts and lowers several times as if agreeing with us. The little colt trots right up, nibbles my leg, then tears up a mouthful of grass and begins munching.

“Warrior,” I mumble, liking it.

With a sense of victory, I ease Jenny into walk to cool her off and finally slip off her back at the fence. In the barn, I pull out my phone and see I’ve missed a call.

From Kieran.

Dialing voicemail, I listen to every word, anger bubbling up in me. I was right. He was using me. Manipulating me.

He was going to marry me. What kind of human would do that to their child? To another human being? To themselves?

Then again, who would admit that?

Sure, he’d had a rough upbringing, and I feel bad for that. But he’s right, it doesn’t excuse it. But it does give me a bit of insight. Someone raised like that would become someone willing to do anything to succeed. Even evil things.

But he’d come clean. He’d told me the truth. And not because I’d caught him not because I’d cornered him. Not because he had too, or had taken things too far. No, it seemed like something had made him change his mind about how he was going at things.

He’d apologized.

He’d been painfully honest. He’d showed me the ugly thing he’d tried to do to me. And he hadn’t asked for anything.

And it feels like the ball is in my court. Like he’s letting me decide what happens next. And, as I think of Warrior in his pen, of Olivia telling me I’d be a good mom, of the heartbreaking raw honesty in his voicemail, I make a choice.

Dialing his number, I hold my breath as he answers.

“I have something for Olivia,” I say, and he sounds even and composed.

“Of course.”

We both fall silent, and as the second stretch on, it’s harder and harder to speak. “Um,” I say, “Would you consider going on a date with me?” I ask, and I hear him breathe out on the other end.

“It would be my pleasure.” He sounds relieved, and I want to laugh at him.

“By the way,” I say, “I’m pregnant.”

“Does the father know?” he asks dryly.

I can’t help but laugh. “Thank you for the voicemail,” I tell him, wanting him to know that it really meant something to me. “I deleted it.”

“I appreciate it,” he says, and I wonder if he’s holding something else back.

“Since I asked you out, am I setting up the date stuff?” I ask, amused. I’ve never asked someone out, nor have I seriously dated as an adult. There’s just no time. Or maybe that’s what I’ve been telling myself to keep heartbreak at bay.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he says, “with your permission.”

My heart melts at the implication that we’re partners, not that I’m just here to follow his orders. “I’d like that,” I say, warmth flooding my very soul.

We get off the phone, and I stand in the barn, feeling so very alone, yet happy. I walk over to Silver Charm and begin to talk to her as I get her ready for her stall to be mucked.

“So,” I tell her as she perks her ears and listens. “Dad used to talk to you all the time, and I know I’m just not as amazing as he was. But I’ve got something to tell you. There’s this guy…” I pick her hooves, brush her down, and tell her all about my problems and joys, and realize why dad did this all those years; the horses just listen.