Read Online Summer at Mustang Ridge by Jesse Hayworth - Free Book Online Page A

you.”
    That was the best she’d been able to figure, that the meltdowns came when Lizzie felt pressured—to speak, to be normal, to be herself. Before, the pressure had come from her teachers, friends and family. Now it was coming from inside.
    She so wanted to love the horses, but they terrified her. Maybe because of what had happened that first day, maybe just because they were bigger and stronger than her. It didn’t matter, really. It only mattered that she was clinging to Shelby, sobbing her heart out with wails that sounded like they were coming from an animal, a baby, something incapable of speech.
    “What can I do?” Stace had gone pale, her eyes wide and dark.
    “Nothing,” Shelby told her. “Not right now, anyway. And don’t stress, it’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault. We’re just going to have to call it a day for now.” Maybe for good. This was more than anxiety, more than a healthy pushing of the limits.
    Heart twisting, she picked up her daughter and straightened. Lizzie clung, wrapping long arms and legs around her and burrowing in, helmet and all. Shelby’s back pinged a protest, but she ignored it to sway back and forth, whispering, “Shh. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
    “Do you want me to get someone—”
    “No. I’ve got her.” She tightened her grip, and said, softer, “I’ve got you. I promise.”
    Lizzie didn’t hear, though. She was sobbing, shuddering, gulping for breath, with her face hidden away from the outside world as she fought the scary world inside her.
    Knowing what her daughter needed—what they both needed—Shelby carried her all the way back to their cabin. Her legs burned and her back was howling by the time she got to the three short steps leading up, but she made it, all the way up and inside. She shut the door behind them so it was just the two of them against the world. And then she sat on the love seat, held her daughter close, and fought to hold back tears of her own.

5
     
    L a ter that night, after Lizzie finally sniffled herself to sleep, Shelby put on one of her fancy new shirts and a pair of the butt-hugging jeans and headed toward the lake, where the noise and the flicker of firelight left no question as to where the party was going down. She really wasn’t in the mood, but figured she had to put in an appearance, both because she had promised Gran, and because the gossip would’ve made the rounds already—and she’d rather face the whispers and sympathetic looks now, without Lizzie.
    She knew the drill.
    When she got to the lake, though, she couldn’t make herself turn toward the bonfire, where Ty was playing something slow and bluesy on the guitar and several couples were slow-dancing, silhouetted against the fire with enough romance to make her cranky.
    Instead, she headed the other way, toward the boathouse, where it was darker and quieter.
Just need a minute. Then I’ll go eat, drink, and pretend to be merry
.
    The dock running out into the lake gave beneath her feet, and her boots echoed, sounding very loud. So loud, in fact, that she shucked them off, along with her socks, and carried them to where the boards ended. The float swayed beneath her feet and gave gently when she sat, with a rocking motion that took away some of the tension.
    Yes, this was what she needed. Not being in the thick of the party, but being able to watch it across the lake, seeing the firelight and hearing the laughter and music. Blowing out a long, slow breath, she swung her feet around and into the water. And nearly yanked them right back out again. “Holy . . . brr!”
    “It’s a little early in the year for swimming,” a man’s voice said from the darkness behind her.
    Jolting, she almost landed right in the icy water. “Yeek!” She twisted around. “Foster? Is that you?”
    She hadn’t seen much of the head wrangler over the course of the week, as he kept to himself and mostly stuck to the barn. She’d seen him from a distance, though,