CHAPTER 16
Parker paused his work in the hayloft to lean over the handle of his pitchfork and look out the hay door. The late afternoon sun had turned the Flint Hills gold. The view was incredible here, encompassing barnyard and the surrounding pastures. Parker’s shirt was soaked, and his muscles ached from lack of sleep, but that never stopped him from appreciating his surroundings.
Truth be told, he hated the hayloft. But Gunnar had asked him to move hay, and so move it he did, tossing forkful after forkful down through a hole in the second story floor to use the next time they mucked the stables. But since he was alone, he took a moment to admire the vast expanse of prairie that shone in the distance, a tapestry of green and gold.
Immediately below stood the new and improved mustang arena he and Gunnar had finished building the other day. All week they’d worked on expanding the previous arena in preparation for the four new horses Hope had rescued at auction. Last fall, his cousin had gentled a mustang and liked it so well, she’d gone on to train in natural horsemanship. This time, she was teaching them her methods. And in a move that had surprised him, Travis Kincaid had asked to learn too.
Parker shook his head. Travis was one of the toughest guys in Prairie. He made an excellent police chief. Even the roughest ranch hands gave him a wide berth because of his presence. He commanded respect. No one wanted to cross Travis. What could he possibly want with learning to gentle wild horses?
As if on cue, Travis pulled up in his beat-up old truck, and hopped out, checking his watch. Parker turned and finished tossing the last of the hay to the floor below.
A few minutes later, he climbed down the ladder and joined Travis and Gunnar in the yard. Travis looked positively murderous. “Where’s your girlfriend?” he barked.
“Cassie?”
“Do you have another one I don’t know about?”
What the hell had gotten into him? He wasn’t used to hearing people call Cassie his girlfriend. Although, now that he heard it, he liked it. He shrugged. “I think she’s out mending fences with her dad. Why?”
And why did he have his britches in a twist about her?
“Did you see her yesterday?” Travis’s voice was clipped. Impatient.
Parker’s radar went on high alert. “Nooo. Something wrong?”
Travis scowled and crossed his arms. “Nothing that a little chat won’t fix.”
Except his tone of voice didn’t sound like a little chat would fix anything. Something was definitely wrong.
He opened his mouth to ask, but a horn honked, and Hope pulled up with a horse trailer, arm hanging out the window. “You ready? We’ve gotta get these beauties into their new home.”
Damn. Conversation would have to wait until later.
By the time the three men had helped Hope sort the horses into their respective pens, everyone was hot and sweaty.
“Don’t get comfortable, boys, the work starts today.”
Travis grumbled something about Cassie under his breath.
“What’s your problem, man?” Parker asked, ready to come to Cassie’s defense.
“That’s between Cassie and me.”
Parker stepped toe to toe with him. If Cassie wasn’t here to defend herself, he’d do it for her, and he didn’t care if he had to put a fist in the jaw of Prairie’s police chief to do it. “What’s going on, Travis?” he growled, angry tightness fisting in his belly.
Travis’s eyes went steely. “Nothing that involves you, Romeo.”
The air crackled between them. Parker had never been in a bar fight. He’d never needed to. He’d always been the one to make sure cooler heads prevailed. But if he had to, he’d take on Travis.
“What in the heck is going on here?” Hope stormed over. “You two are supposed to be on the same team. What gives?”
“Yeah, what gives, Travis?” Parker echoed, vibrating with adrenaline.
A muscle ticked just below Travis’s temple. For a long minute, no one spoke. Then Hope broke the standoff. “Whatever it is, leave it outside the pen. We’re working with scared wild animals here. They’ll pick up on whatever emotion you bring into the ring. And they’ll take our complete focus, got it?”
Both men nodded.
“Travis, you first.” Hope motioned to him. “Follow me.” For the next hour, Gunnar and Parker stood on the ring slats, watching Hope coach Travis through greeting and haltering one of the mustangs. By the time they were through, the horse was following Travis around the ring on a lead line.
Travis didn’t have the kind of horse experience he and the other Hansens had. And yet, after watching him for the better part of an hour, Parker glimpsed a side of the man he’d never seen before. The hard edge that seemed to define Travis had softened. The harsh lines in his face melting away as he bonded with the horse he affectionately started calling Flipper.
Parker had watched Hope work with her mustang, Buttercup last fall, and he never ceased to be impressed with the way she read horses, and as a result, how she read people. If only he could read Cassie that well.
As Travis exited the ring, Parker extended a hand. “Great job in there.”
Travis flashed him an easy smile, their previous tension seemingly forgotten. “Thanks. You can’t hide from a horse, you gotta put it all out there for them.”
“Right?”
“I’d forgotten how much I love spending time with them.” Travis’s face clouded. “I don’t have much time for them anymore, and I hate that.”
The chip on Travis’s shoulder seemed to have dissipated. So much so, that Parker recognized the guy he’d been before the tornado. Travis wasn’t someone you’d ever call easygoing, but he’d been approachable. Until the tornado. No one, it seemed, had walked away from that day unscathed. Parker should have expected that, he’d seen it in plenty of people around town. But Travis had always seemed invincible. Completely in control.
“And I heard you’re running for sheriff?”
Travis’s face tightened. “I see the rumor mill is fast at work.”
“No one would be better.”
Travis snorted as he fisted his hands on his hips, toeing the dirt. “Not a done deal. Not sure I want the job.”
Ask him.
If he was going to ask Travis for help, now was the time. Given Travis’s demeanor, he might not get another opening. Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, he spoke. “Can I ask you for a bit of advice?”
“Do I look like Dr. Ruth?”
“Not that kind of advice.” He draped his arms over the top bar of the pen. “I’ve seen some shit in my life.” More than he’d ever admit to Travis or Gunnar. Or anyone else for that matter. “But not like I’m guessing you and Cass have.”
Travis grunted and stared at where Hope stood conferring with Gunnar.
“I just want to know how to help her.”
Travis leveled a hard look at him. “You can’t.”
“What do you mean? Of course, I can.”
Travis shook his head. “You can’t man. No one can. She has to help herself.”
“She just needs to talk about it.”
Travis laughed harshly. “That’s the last thing she needs to do. And get used to it now. If she talks about it at all, it ain’t gonna be with you. It’ll be with people who get it. Who’ve been there.”
Parker’s stomach churned in jealousy. How could they have a relationship if they couldn’t confide in each other? “But she can trust me.”
“It’s not about trust. It’s about shared experience. Who do you talk to about all the ugly you’ve seen? You gonna tell Cassie? Or another medic?” Travis narrowed his eyes. “You gonna tell her what it was like to give your uncle Warren that shot of morphine knowing he was on his way out and all you could do was make his last moments comfortable?”
The horror of the aftermath of the tornado twisted up through him. The grief of that moment, the sick recognition that it was Warren’s limp body they were pulling from the rubble, the gray color of his face, the feeling of utter helplessness came slamming back into him. And then fear. What if his mother was next? Or his brother? Or Cassie? How much more loss could a person take before they lost their shit entirely?
Parker could only nod in understanding. He got it now. “But I know I can’t save everyone, even if it’s my job to try,” he finally said after a long moment.
“And we’re no heroes. Try coming home to a place like Prairie and being told by everyone and their granny that you’re a fucking hero, and having them look at you like you’re goddamn Captain America,” Travis said bitterly. “The best I can do is pretend to be normal. And someday, if I go through the motions enough times, maybe I’ll get there.”
Parker didn’t know what to say. Most of the men in town who were his age looked up to Travis. Wanted to be like him. What was he supposed to say? What could he say? Sorry didn’t cut it. “So how do I help?”
“Be there for her when she crashes and burns.” Travis tipped his hat back and squinted at the horses. “And don’t judge her too harshly when she does.”