Chasing Amy

Prologue

The horses ambled into the setting sun, the magnificent shades of orange and pink backlighting purple clouds and casting rays across the budding soybeans in the field.  The hushed drone of traffic could be heard in the distance but the highway could no longer be seen from their spot on the farm.  There was still a bite to the May evening and Amy Shaw was glad for the sweatshirt and ball cap she had thrown on before they started their ride.

She glanced over at her beau of five years, Ty Yokum, whose family owned the horses they were riding and the farm they were riding through.  The sunlight cut across his face, putting his features into sharp contrast from her view on horseback.  He looked relaxed and she could tell that he was soaking up the quiet, listening to the birds singing in the trees and watching the sunlight dance over the tiny plants that sprawled before them.  His eyes roamed the tree lines, no doubt looking for any signs of the deer that loved to nibble on the free food.  One hand held the reigns while the other rested against his hip, absently tapping on something in his pocket.

The whole scene was peaceful and romantic.  Or at least it should have been.  But to Amy it felt the same as everything had felt for the past six months – dull and surreal – as if she was watching it happen to someone else.  Or as if she was in a dream, going through the motions, but couldn’t quite feel the way everyone in her dream was expecting her to feel.

Since that December phone call nothing had felt the way it was supposed to.  Life had gone on, everything else had continued to move and flow just as it always had.  Everything except her.  And her father.

A heart attack at forty-seven.  Dead before Amy could say good-bye.  Her world had ended then and, no matter how much she tried to keep going, nothing felt the same.  She doubted it ever would.

The man who sat so tall and regal in the saddle beside her had been there through it all.  He was a good man – a gentle man and a gentleman.  He loved with passion and compassion.  He was number two in her life, only bested by her father.  He didn’t deserve what was coming.  But after the past six months he deserved better than what she’d been giving.  And she wasn’t sure when she’d be able to give again – if ever.

The horses slowed as they approached the crest of the hill and with a small “snck-snck” from Ty, they both stopped.  Ty glanced over at Amy with a soft smile and slid from his horse.

Amy did the same, her heart heavy with grief. How much of it was still for her father and how much for what she was about to do, she didn’t know.  But it all settled in her belly like a lead weight.  She walked around her horse and gazed out across the fields, letting her eyes roll gently over the hills to where they touched the base of a ridge in the distance.  The trees had exploded into bright greens and some still held the last of their spring flowers.  It was gorgeous.  At least Amy knew it was gorgeous.  It certainly wasn’t a beauty she felt.  She didn’t feel much of anything anymore.

She slid her hands into the pocket on the front of her sweatshirt, wondering how to start this conversation.  She dreaded it.  She knew she was going to hurt Ty, no matter how gentle she tried to be.  But it had to be done.

She tensed as he stepped behind her and slid his arms around her, giving her a small squeeze.  His embrace was strong, warm, comforting and safe.  Amy had always loved the feel of his arms around her, knowing that the man attached to them was hers.  Ty had been the most attentive, giving, and forgiving guy she’d ever known and there was no one who would ever hold a candle to him.  She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to cry.

“Ty,” she breathed, “I need to talk to you.”

He let go and moved to stand in front of her, his face etched with concern.  “Okay.  I needed to talk to you too, but you go first.”