{To Hell And Back ~ Maren Morris}
...When my demons come a-callin', you don't even bat an eye, I don't scare you, and I guess that's why...
----
An aching heaviness in my bones shackles me down to the mattress. My body is screaming out what my brain is working hard to understand. I am woozy, a collapsing, unstable mess of memories in their scrambled, bitty pieces that rattle around inside me, trying to grasp hold of as much as I can. The more I try to speak, the more my grasping thoughts falter, slipping away. The more I want to scream, the more I disappear.
Somewhere. Nowhere. Anywhere else but here. Away from me, from this room and the truth and the heaving weight that won't leave my chest. From the bruises and their trail, like hard kisses carved into stone. From my body and it's screaming, crying sort of ache. From this thudding music, far away and yet so loud, it swallows my voice.
No one can hear me. I am muffled. My voice is strangled into silence.
And as the room fades away, and I allow my mind to rescue me from the nightmare of this room, I cannot hear my voice or my whimpering cries. It shrinks into the quiet of the dark of his eyes. It is safer in the dark. Safer than where my body lies.
----
The sound of Dusk's hooves on the dirt track from the stables fill the silence of the sunrise. I rub my sleepless eyes, guiding her towards the paddock. Today is the first day of the countdown to the Derby. My chest flutters with nerves but I curtail my anxious breathing, keeping a steady flow, not risking the flood of panic to overwhelm me before the day has even begun.
As usual, I am wishing good morning to the sun peeking over the horizon of Laurel Valley, waking the town in its warm, burning orange glow.
"Come on, Dusk," I coo her. She follows me, huffing slightly at the early morning rise. "I know, I know it's early."
I am starting to think I'll never know a night's sleep again. How the sweats and gasping out of my own mind seem normal compared to rest, and a peaceful mind. My jaw clenches to push away the memories of too many nights awake, trying to hide from the recurring nightmare. I am voiceless when it comes to explaining it. I am too tired to speak it out here. Laurel Valley was meant to be an escape from it. To be able to forget. But it's the same repeating cycle.
Dusk nudges me with her nose, prompting me out of my mind again. I muster a tired smile, and the small blink of her eyes lets me know she understands. We take our place at the fence, a now staple place for me to retreat to, to watch the sunrise.
Harley's right, I think. This is the best view of the town. His words from our conversation after the cookout ring in my head, and I let out a sigh, my shoulders slumping slightly as I take my seat on the edge of the fence. The look on his face at the announcement of my name left me breathless and dizzy, his brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and worry, a barrier instantly placed between us. But he's not fighting to save anything. He's not trying to save the ranch, despite how much he loves it.
I am.
Right on cue, just as the sun reaches a comfortable place in the sky, Beau is by my side. His voice is rough and quiet, still half-asleep. We have a moment of silence between us, both taking in the warmth of the golden rays, resting over the valley, bathing us in a shimmer of summer.
"So," My voice breaks into the quiet of the morning. "What the plan?"
Beau sighs a little, turning to me. He gives Dusk a scratch behind her ear as he thinks, making me wait patiently for an answer.
"I'm glad you asked," he smirks. "Follow me."
"Where are we going?"
My mind is fizzing with trying to piece together where we could be going, but Beau is off -- Vaulting over the fence and heading off towards the barn, with the sunlight lighting the way.
I say nothing, simply follow him and try to keep up.
----
The barn door squeaks and shrieks on the hinges as Beau hauls it open, letting the sun pour in. The dust dances around us in the quiet of the morning. It smells of hay and wood, and the two blended into a mix of home, a smell I'm starting to get used to.
My eyes catch sight of two small hay bales sitting away from the mountain. Atop one of them is an old projector, poised to shine against the wooden barn wall. I can feel my brows furrowing in slight confusion, and I half-expect to see a smirk on Beau's face but he is, as always, pensive and serious.
"What is all this?" I ask, taking a seat on one of the hay bales.
"This is training, Ruby," he nods.
With a flick of a switch, the projector whirrs to life without another moment spared, and I see the Derby stadium lit up on the wooden boards. Beau's face is unreadable as he begins talking, but I can hear in his voice, this is something he knows about.
"The Derby has three stages, all of which are important. You have already done the first part, which is the announcement," he tells me.
Part of me wishes I could take notes.
"The second part is what Mr Taylor and I call the Politics Party. It's a Ball held at the Mayor's every year, and all of the potential riders must attend. You want people to support you Ruby, and you want them to support the Ranch. You're the figurehead now, and so you have to take it seriously. There will be backers and investors that might be important to the ranch's survival."
"I thought the Derby was the way to save the ranch?"
"It is, but even you must see the chances are a lot slimmer than getting an investor to help us," he states.
"Does Uncle Deacon--"
"He agrees. But he never was good around people," Beau sighs.
I can't help but agree. Uncle Deacon has always been the silent, stoic man who sat in the corner. It was always such a change to see him be the Derby Champion, hoisted on the shoulders of everyone when he always felt so out of place. I can only imagine what a big party of hotshot rich folk would do to him.
"So, the party," I push. "When is it?"
"Three days before the Derby. So we have a lot of work and a lot of training to do before then," Beau nods.
"Right, and about the training--"
But before I can get a word in, Beau has started showing me the stadium on the projector. His voice is passionate and he believes in everything he's saying but I am losing touch with his words. The projector's whirring and the sun outside making everything in this barn hot and humid, and I need air.
My mind reels into thoughts of the Derby, all the investors and the crowds, the men on their horses watching me fail.
"Beau, why aren't we in the field?" I ask before I get a chance to stop myself, to find a moment of quiet between us.
"What?" He asks, confused.
"You could be telling me this in practice," I smile, standing and guiding him away from the projector and towards the door. "We could be--"
"This is important, Ruby," he states. "You need to take in what I'm teaching you if you have any chance--"
"I need to know how to ride Dusk fast enough to win. And I need to be polite and pretty enough to get investors," I nod. "I got it."
"Ruby," he sighs, his voice laced with frustration. "I don't think you understand how serious this is..."
I can sense that distance between us growing, the knot in my stomach tightening as I take steps towards him, to bridge this gap.
"I do know," I assure him. "But I've seen that stadium since I was a kid. I know the terrain, and I know how the Derby works. I don't need you to tell me. I need you to teach me."
There is a stirring behind his eyes, and I can sense him struggling. A band of light slices through the wood of the barn, lying across his eyes, making them shine as he looks anywhere but at me.
"It's my job now, to make sure that you--"
"That I win, I know," I nod.
"No, Ruby," he pushes, his eyes finally hooking on to mine. "It's my job to make sure you don't get yourself killed doing this. Because there is every chance it could happen. I'm painfully aware that it's not just the Ranch I hold in my hands right now. It's... It's you too."
Any words I had before sink into my chest, unable to come to the surface, to be spoken into this now impenetrable silence.
"I... I didn't mean to--"
"I know," he nods. "But you have to trust me on this. That's all I ask."
"I do trust you," I tell him.
"Then give me the reigns," he pleads. "And when you're ready, I promise we'll get you out in that field. Deal?"
He holds his hand out, steady and waiting for me to shake it. But it doesn't feel like enough. My hand takes hold of his, shaking it slightly in agreement. But I pull in and loop my arms around him, hugging him slightly. The stiffness of his body melts after a moment, hugging me back, and we laugh slightly into each other, both of us settled on where we go on this journey. Of where we go from here.
Of the promise, we intend to keep.
----