I don’t even realize it’s Saturday until I hear Otto’s braying and Jake’s SUV pulling up the dirt and gravel road.

All of the horses have been fed and watered and let out into the main pasture. I keep waking up earlier and earlier, unable to sleep a full night anymore. When I’m not thinking about Travis, I’m worrying about Apollo. So I get up before dawn and take care of the horses, spending extra time with Apollo every morning. Sometimes hours just applying compresses and gently massaging his injured leg.

I know Deacon said he’s going to recover, but my brain can’t help thinking his days are numbered, and I have to do everything I can to avoid him being put down like the last horse I rode into the ground. I know it’s irrational. Jake and I have argued about just how obsessed I am about this. But I can’t stop myself.

I’m in Apollo’s stall now, as Jake pulls closer to the house. I stand slowly from the stool, my joints aching as I realize just how long I’ve been sitting there working my hands over a leg that isn’t even swollen anymore.

“Anybody home?” I hear Jake call. Then, muffled, “I know you’re home, Otto. You’re always home.”

I come out to greet them, trying to remember what an authentic smile should feel like. I apparently get it wrong, because the kids and Jake are all looking at me with pity.

“The tack’s not set out yet, but the horses are ready to go,” I tell them.

“Head into the stable and grab what you need,” Jake tells the kids. “Meet me up at the pasture in a few minutes.”

They do, filing past me. All but Julie, who hadn’t been able to look at me for a while now. Ever since that picture came out. To my surprise, she stops and throws her arms awkwardly around me, giving me a brief hug before she pulls away.

I just stand there, no idea what to say or do, my eyes stinging with all the emotion I’m trying so hard to hold back.

Jake watches her go into the stable, a sad smile on his face before he looks back to me.

“Is she still…?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “She’s still pretty torn up about what happened. She thinks she’s the reason Travis isn’t here anymore.”

Even hearing his name hurts, but I push that pain down. Someone else has it rougher than me right now. It’s bad enough to deal with feelings of guilt, but dealing with it as a teenager?

“She’s not. You’ve told her she’s not, right?”

“Of course I have,” Jake says, a little defensively.

He looks so much like his brother when his brows crease like that. I wonder if they realize it.

I let out a sigh, knowing I’m in no shape to ride with them. “Do you think you could take the kids alone today? I want to get more time in with Apollo.”

“Every time I call you’re with him,” Jake says, frowning. When I don’t acknowledge that, he just nods. “Yeah, Shane. Of course I’ll take them.”

Neither of us says anything for a long moment. We’ve been talking on the phone, and he’s been by a couple of times to have dinner with me. He even got me to come out to Gracie’s last week. But we’ve both avoided talking about Travis, and I know it’s catching up to us. I can see it in his eyes.

Instead of asking about him, though, he asks, “Are you okay, Shane? No bullshit. Are you okay?”

I know what he means by “okay.” He’s seen me at my lowest point. He knows the places my brain goes to when I’m unwell. But as much as I’m slipping, I’m not in the kind of danger he’s thinking of, so I answer him honestly.

“I’m okay. I’m not good, but I’m okay.”

“Yeah,” Jake says softly. “Seems like none of us are ‘good’ right now.”

Is he talking about Travis? Have they spoken since he left for Florida? Of course they have. They’re brothers, and Travis didn’t cut things off between them because Jake is fucked up beyond all repair the way I am.

I want to ask. I want to beg him for details. But instead I stay silent and rigid and Jake just sighs, his hand clapping my arm.

“I know you need time. I’m here whenever you want to talk, man. Any time, day or night.”

I nod, giving him a small smile. He squeezes my arm, then heads past me into the stable. Some part of me wants to ask him to stay; to let the kids ride on their own. They’re old enough, and Julie’s responsible. But I don’t. I just send them off, then head back into the stable, returning to my place beside Apollo.

* * *

I work on all of his legs, my brain apparently deciding he needs equal care or the muscles in the other legs might get weak. Really it’s just an excuse to stay there and keep my hands and my mind busy. I’m in the middle of applying a warm wrap when I hear bare hooves clopping into the stable. Otto. There’s no way it can be any of the other horses.

I look over my shoulder, and his tail is swinging merrily behind him as he comes up to me like I’ve been gone for weeks. Maybe I have been. I’m not sure I’ve done more than feed and water Otto for a while now. Poor little guy. He lives for affection.

He trundles up to me, putting his neck over my shoulder, his muzzle bumping against the side of my head. I laugh softly and give him a scratch behind the ears. At least Otto's forgiveness is easy enough to earn. A few pets, a carrot or two, and I'll be back in his good graces.

I can tell Apollo is getting agitated, though. He lets out a huff of air through his flared nostrils, and I try to send Otto away. The little donkey doesn't budge, though. He even lifts his head and tries to nuzzle the stallion over my shoulder. At least I think that's what he's trying to do.

But Apollo isn't having any of it. He lets out a hellish little sound and stretches his neck out, trying to bite Otto. I get between horse and donkey, holding the stallion back. Otto finally beats a hasty retreat and Apollo gives what sounds like an indignant huff, his tail flicking behind him.

I sit down hard on the stool again, the breath rushing from my lungs in one gust. What a fucking circus.

As I look up at Apollo, though, something strikes me. "We’re quite the pair, aren't we?" I muse. "Chasing off everyone who cares about us."

It would be funny if it wasn't so sad.

And the worst part is, I'm so much better at doing it than Apollo could ever be. Being social, running with a herd, it's in his blood, no matter how much he was trained out of it. With enough love and care, he'll make someone an amazing family pet someday.

But me? I'm not even that far from pushing my best friend away, and I've already driven everyone else out of my life. I barely called my mom, even when she was alive. I've lost touch with all my old friends and haven't bothered trying to reconnect. The people in Glen Springs probably only know me as the reclusive ranch owner who comes into town only when he can't avoid it—the holler troll, as Eric puts it.

And the man I love thinks he's the reason I can't pull my shit together, when the reality is that I felt happier and healthier with him than I have in a long time.

I wish I could tell him. I wish I could just call him and tell him I love him and that I need him in my life, however I can get him. But I know it won't be enough, and I know I'll just chase him away eventually.

As I stroke Apollo's golden coat, I try to tell myself this is for the best. But I know that's the biggest lie of all.