Page 38 of Sweet Madness

Reaching for my instant camera, I take a quick photo, wanting to capture this perfect view forever. “Wow,” I whisper, amazed by how this simple yet stunning place can elicit so much peace within me.

Shaw’s ranch sprawls out beneath me, with rolling hills and wide pastures stretching endlessly. Wooden fences crisscross the landscape, dividing fields where horses graze peacefully. A herd of chestnut and palomino horses moves gracefully through the dewy grass. Above me, birds circle in the clear blue sky, their calls echoing across the ranch. Captivated by the beauty around me, I take another quick picture, hoping to capture this moment forever.

I pocket the small, squared picture and continue my way towards the stables. Once there, I push open the old wooden door, greeted immediately by the unmistakable scent of hay and the soft nickers of horses. Sunlight filters through the cracks in the barn boards, casting warm, dancing patterns on the ground.

I take in the stable with wide, curious eyes. This sanctuary for the horses is filled with rustic charm and elegance. Wooden beams stretch overhead, adorned with hanging lanterns. Each stall is immaculate, lined with fresh straw and brass fittings. My gaze sweeps across a large room, where bridles and saddles hang neatly on hooks, gleaming in the sunlight. A row of windows on one side frames the landscape outside, with rolling hills and mountains in the distance.

I can’t help but smile as I take in the sights and sounds around me—the quiet rustling of horses munching on their feed and the occasional whinny echoing softly through the stable. That’s when I see them: three beautiful horses.

I stand with my heart filled with excitement as I introduce myself to the three magnificent horses: Peppermint, Geraldine, and Peanut. I know their names because Shaw shared them with me right before he left to take a call, about fifteen minutes ago. The three horses are not the only ones on the ranch, but from the tender look on Shaw’s face, I know these three mean the most to him. That’s why, after he gave me a tour of his land and shared a little about the businesses he runs here, I decided to come to the stables and introduce myself to his beautiful beasts.

Being here with the horses takes me back to a time when Mom and I would spend countless hours with our beloved horse, Bliss. Bliss was our beautiful white Lipizzan, and she brought us so much joy. Remembering my sweet girl hurts my heart and is bittersweet. Still, I smile wide as I get closer to the horses.

With gentle strides, I approach the first horse, Peppermint, a sleek chestnut with a dark, soulful eyes. “Well, hello there, Peppermint,” I whisper softly, extending my hand for the beautiful creature to sniff. “I’m so pleased to meet you. My name is Ella.” I smile wider when the horse tilts his head. “You look like royalty, Pepper,” I tease.

This is the one Shaw took for a ride around the ranch yesterday morning. I saw them while peeking through the window and caught him gently stroking the horse, his touch brimming with tenderness. It was sweet and didn’t surprise me at all. The Shaw I once knew had a soft heart and a gentle soul. He’s changed, yes, but there’s still a trace of the man he used to be. With the animals, he’s different— softer, less grumpy— than he ever is with people.

I turn my attention to Geraldine, a gentle horse with a coat as white as a snowy winter day. This one reminds me of Bliss, and suddenly my heart starts to ache, but I push through the sadness. “And you must be Geraldine,” I whisper softly, my smile widening. “What a lovely name for such a stunning girl. I can already tell we’re going to be great friends, sweetheart.” The lovely creature holds her ears forward as if interested in what I’m saying. “Oh, you’re so smart,” I laugh.

My gaze falls upon the third horse, Peanut. The one acting up inside his stall—a playful baby with mischievous eyes. “Ah, you must be Peanut,” I chuckle, watching the horse nuzzle my hand. “You’ve got quite the personality, don’t you, sweet boy?” The happy horse licks my hand, making me laugh. “I have a feeling we’re going to have some fun adventures together.”

The pang in my chest fades away, replaced by a sense of peace—one I haven’t felt in a while. It’s true. I haven’t felt this calm and peaceful anywhere but here, on this ranch with Shaw and his beautiful beasts. Surrounded by the horses’ warm energy, I feel as if I belong. I’ve never felt such an immense feeling of joy rushing through me, yet I feel it here. My heart soars as I revel in this feeling.

“Oh!” I exclaim, clapping my hands together as an idea pops into my head. “How about while we wait for Shaw Bear, I give you three makeovers? Doesn’t that sound fun?” I wiggle my eyebrows playfully and laugh when Peppermint’s eyes narrow, looking skeptical. It’s quite comical.

I don’t think Shaw would mind if I tended to his horses. Would he? I have no idea about the livestock or poppy field business, but if it’s something Shaw does and enjoys, then I’m more than willing to help during my stay here. I don’t want to be a burden, even if he’s getting paid to guard and protect me. I still want to be useful to him, plus it will help pass the time. So, I quickly work on brushing the horses’ manes, then run to the garden where I see pretty, colorful flowers, plucking some before making my way back to the stalls.

Gently, I tuck delicate daisy flowers into each horse’s mane. They look almost ethereal, as if they’re horses from another world. The flowers add a touch of natural beauty to their already magnificent appearance.

I’m adding the last flower to Peppermint’s mane when he stomps his hooves dramatically. “There,” I murmur softly, stepping back to admire my handiwork. “Now you all look even more beautiful.” And they do.

All three of my sisters would adore the horses’ new appearances, especially my youngest, Evie. Like our mom, she has a deep love for horses— so much so that our parents gifted her a pony for her birthday last year. She’s the kindest, and sweetest soul, caring for Lottie, her horse, with so much love. Ambrose, on the other hand, never had much interest in wildlife or nature, but she can’t resist a good epic makeover.

As I watch the horses and think of my sisters, another idea pops up—the idea of capturing this moment and sharing it with my family so they don’t feel so far away. Shaw did say I could post on social media, and I will—but not the intimate moments. Those I reserve only for the people who truly care about me, not for what anyone might read online.

I pick up my small, pink Polaroid camera from the ground, a perfect match for the picturesque scene. With a grin, I hold the camera up, framing all three horses and myself in the viewfinder before pressing the shutter button. As the camera clicks and captures the moment, I can’t help but feel a rush of happiness coursing through me.

With the small photo in hand, I turn back to my three new friends, my smile genuine. “Thank you for letting me capture this moment,” I say, my voice filled with warmth. “You were all so sweet to me. Even you, Pepper boy.” And with that, I tuck the photo into my skirt pocket, hoping to hold onto this peaceful feeling forever.

Shaw

After breakfast, I show Ella around the ranch and explain the business I manage here. I tell her about the poppy fields and the livestock. She has a smile on her face throughout our walk and seems genuinely interested. Her enthusiasm is refreshing, a surprise given my expectations of hesitation or boredom.

That’s all she has done since arriving—proving me wrong every single time.

After giving her the rundown of ranch life, I leave briefly to answer Ben’s call. My cousin calls every day for updates on the Kenton heiress. He shares something that makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise: They still haven’t located the sick fuck after the Kentons. The stalker has sent more packages to their residence, each one for a different sibling.

No more disturbing mail has arrived at Ella’s apartment, suggesting the stalker knows she’s no longer there. Some might think they’ve given up, but I know better. Predators don’t quit; they bide their time, waiting the perfect moment to strike again.

But they won’t get the chance to get to Ella. The family has tripled their security since we last spoke. I also told Ella to keep posting on social media. Yes, she shares more, but I ensure her posts can’t be traced back here. Her uncle Riagan O’Sullivan— the Godfather of Philadelphia—- has his best hacker, Maeve, working tirelessly to block any cyber threats and track down the creep.

I’m confident the family will handle this threat swiftly and Ella will be home safely soon.

Why does the thought of her leaving make my chest tighten?

As I contemplate her return, an unexpected pang tightens in my chest. It’s a strange sensation I can’t quite rationalize. Why does the thought of her leaving affect me this way? She’s just a girl from another world so different from my own. The sudden rush of emotions she stirs in me is disturbing and dangerous.

Not wanting to dwell on these unwanted feelings, I search for her and eventually find her in the stables.