Page 79 of See It Through

We fell into laughter, which led to a short make-out session, thoroughly wiping every gross image of Brady and Teller away before continuing our walk. When we came upon the stables, Remi steered us that way. I went with him, even though I knew what we’d find inside.

Emptiness.

He pushed open the creaky door and flicked on the lights. For a building that’d been abandoned for years, it didn’t have a haunted feel and that was because Henry kept it in such good shape. He hadn’t allowed nature to take over or vermin to move in. If we had a horse who needed a place to stay, it could have been moved in today.

Remi sauntered down the row of six vacant stalls, his hands on his hips. Stopping at the end, his back to me, he stated, “He sold my horse when she died.”

“You had a horse?” I asked, still by the entrance.

He wrapped his fingers around the metal grill at the top of the stall door. “He was my mom’s. She declared him mine when I was seven or eight. A sorrel gelding named Huck. I learned to ride on him. Spent most of my early years with him. Then, one day, my mom was gone, and a couple weeks later, so was Huck. He sold all the horses, but losing Huck gutted me.”

He was telling me this devastating story while once again sounding removed from it all. I couldn’t say I felt the same. Pressing my hand to my topsy-turvy belly, I breathed through a wave of nausea. I’d known Graham had sold his horses when he couldn’t bring himself to take care of them properly, but he’d never told me about Huck.

“We could track him down, Rem. See what kind of life he led after—”

“No.” He shook his head and turned around. “It was a long time ago. Nothing I can do about it now besides let it go.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “That’s true.”

He crossed the room, curving an arm around me. “Wipe that sadness away, Hannah. I don’t want you to feel sorry for something I got over years ago.”

“A boy and his horse should never be separated. It’s just a fact of life.” I slapped his chest. “But fine, I won’t be sad if you’re not. Well, not about that at least. I’m sad these stables are empty. They should be filled with life and the pastures outside should be grazed. That’s what’s a real tragedy.”

“You think so?” He skimmed his nose along mine. “You’d fill this land with life?”

“I would. If you were a horse, wouldn’t you want to live here too? It’s gorgeous and has so much room for roaming and grazing.”

Remi hummed noncommittally and flipped off the lights. We continued on our walk, quiet this time. He seemed to be deep in thought, and I decided to enjoy the golden glow of the prairie grass and push away the ache deep in my belly.

Out of nowhere, Remi said, “You could do that, you know.”

I turned my head to look at him, but his focus was on the sprawling landscape ahead of us. “What?”

He finally looked at me, and the care in his hazel eyes was devastatingly lovely. “Fill these stables up again. After all, all this is half yours to do what you want with it. You want horses; you should have them.”

“Maybe,” I hedged.

We walked on. A lighter topic and a few make-out sessions. It seemed we couldn’t go long periods without kissing.

In the back of my mind, though, I kept asking myself the same question. How could this man be so tender and careful with me and, at the same time, speak about this place and my future here like it had nothing to do with him?

The answer was right there, shouting at me and waving ten blazing red flags.

Because Remington Town knows he won’t stick around to be a part of my future. When it comes down to it, he probably won’t even be a part of my winter.

And still, we walked on, hand in hand.

Chapter Thirty-one

Remington

The first time I’dbeen in Hannah’s apartment, I’d had the thought that she didn’t belong in a closed-in space like that, nice as it was. But it wasn’t until we roamed Graham’s property, seeing her wistful for what it once was and what it could be, that the thought struck me.This is where she belongs.Ten acres was a postage stamp compared to the Kelly ranch, but if all this was hers, she could have her space, her horses, anything she wanted.

Iwanted that for her.

I set up an appointment with Dell Rivers the first chance I got, which ended up being a week later. He’d questioned my decision but, in the end, had agreed to prepare the paperwork.

Walking out of his office, the preliminary paperwork in hand, I felt lighter than I had in some time. That was how I’d known I’d done the right thing. Hannah would have her land, her horses, room to run and be free, and I’d get to give all that to her.