CHARIS WASN'T SURE WHAT THE DAY HELD FOR HER. Uncharacteristically, she found herself helping her father in the garden, earning strange looks from him as it was the first time she had done so since the garden was built.
Upon waking, she thought she would find it calming, after all, it's what her mother used to do when she wanted peace and quiet. It was her little getaway just a few feet away from the chaos. After her death, it's what Aster started trying out and after his death, it's what Austin Duncan did.
Lost in thought, Charis was twisting barbed wire into its previous state, adjacent to the stables where her horse Malory used to reside. She hadn't ventured inside since the incident. Her father would often go there to tend to equipment and take care of things.
Engrossed in her task, Charis accidentally cut herself on the finger. Wincing, she sucked on the blood and wiped it on her riding vest. Giving a longing look towards the stables, she straightened her back, finishing the wire work. She contemplated going inside for a closer look.
Glancing back at the house, she rounded the wires to the small gates and cautiously approached. Gripping the metal rod that served as a lock, she turned it, allowing the door to creak open. Shivering, not from the cold but from the adrenaline of memories, she took a step inside.
Inside were two stables, though only one horse used to occupy them. Charis recalled the days when they would help others by providing space for their horses. The loving and helpful Duncan family – that's how they used to be remembered. Now, memories of good times were overshadowed by pity and the bad. Living outside the city gave people a convenient excuse to forget about them.
Heading towards Malory's stable, Charis found everything still hung as if the horse were still there. The reins, the saddle, the brushes – all remnants of a time when Malory would neigh at the sight of Charis. But she wasn't there anymore, and Charis blamed herself.
Interrupting her thoughts, her father's voice spoke up. Startled, she wiped away oncoming tears and turned around.
"I've been thinking lately," her father began, treading carefully with his words, trying to find a way to break the news to Charis.
"We could get a new horse, maybe a foal. You could raise it," he suggested. The suggestion stabbed at her heart. Why couldn't he just shoot her instead?
"A foal, and have it taken away from me again?" Charis responded quietly, the weight of sorrow evident in her voice.
"What happened—" her father began, wanting to reassure her that it would never happen again, but he couldn't make that promise.
"Don't tell me what happened, okay? You weren't there," Charis cut him off, her voice cracking.
"I wish I had been there," he admitted sincerely, a pained expression on his face.
"This could be good for you. You don't do anything anymore. You don't hang out with friends, you don't paint, you don't sleep, you don't ride," he observed, trying to gently push her towards healing.
"How am I supposed to ever get back on a horse again?" Charis croaked, walking out of the stables, regretting her decision to step inside.
Where could she go now? She couldn't drive, saddle up and ride away, walk for miles, or even go with her sister, who would likely confront her the moment she stepped through the back door.
Ignoring her sister's repeated attempts to talk, Charis closed the bedroom door behind her. Changing out of her garden clothes into jeans and a half-zip fleece sweater, she opened the door again. Marilyn jumped into the conversation, but Charis didn't hear a thing.
All she could sense was the rising tide of anxiety pushing her to leave the house. She slipped on her shoes and walked out without a word, leaving her sister still calling after her. Their father intervened, advising Marilyn to let Charis go.
Charis wasn't sure where she was headed, but she hoped to catch a bus to town. The only issue was that the nearest bus stop was about two miles away. Putting her hands in her pockets, she regretted leaving without a jacket. However, she found her earbuds and shoved them into her ears, hitting shuffle. Tears welled up shortly after.
Her thoughts were inescapably drawn to the reality of passing by the ravine, the very place where her brother's life had tragically ended. The impending walk also meant passing the trail where her beloved horse met its untimely fate, marking the site where a part of her very soul seemed to perish. Enveloped in the depths of melancholy, she moved through the somber landmarks, aware of their significance.
About an hour later, Charis found herself sitting at the bus stop, feeling the cold wind cutting at her tear-stained cheeks. Hugging herself for warmth and comfort, she realized the bus wouldn't arrive for another forty minutes. Glancing at the surroundings, she observed the trees rustling, the beautiful spruce trees that would soon be covered in a white snow blanket – her first season without skiing. The melancholy that constantly pursued her felt inescapable.
The sun hid behind a treetop, casting Charis into a cold shadow once more. Her phone rang, startling her from the music she was listening to. The caller ID read "Cole Walter."
"Hey," Charis responded meekly.
"Hey, where are you? Your sister is here. Are you bailing on me, Charis?" Cole teased. In truth, he held a slight sense of concern and self-consciousness. Was she perhaps just forgetful of their meeting, or had she purposefully chosen not to come?
Realization struck her – they were supposed to meet an hour ago. Drowning in sorrow while waiting for the bus, she wondered why she hadn't just swallowed her pride and rode with her sister. Also, when had Marilyn passed her on her way?
"I'm at the bus station, the one closest to my house," she admitted with a defeated tone.
"Alright, I'll come," Cole said instantly, his willingness apparent. He would drop anything for her, even to escape the Huddle. They could always come back, but it didn't matter. He had already done what he needed to.
"What—No, you don't have to," Charis protested, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude.
Now, she feared he would perceive her as weak. She had unwittingly caused him to miss the Homecoming Huddle, further fueling her anger towards herself. The last thing she wanted was to be seen as a damsel in distress, requiring rescue. Independence was her mantra, and she resented the idea of being a burden.
As he approached, she couldn't shake the fear that he would witness her vulnerability, regret leaving the Huddle, and silently label her as immature. At least, that was the narrative playing in Charis's mind. However, she doubted he could truly understand.
She reclined on the bench, transitioning from her earlier fetal position, and increased the volume on her earbuds. In the solitude of this moment, she contemplated how to articulate her apology for his unexpected arrival.
The melancholic tunes in her ears drowned out external sounds, rendering her oblivious to the approaching engine noise as Cole neared her. When he finally spotted the figure lying almost lifelessly on the bench, confusion washed over him, and he struggled to comprehend the scene before him.
He swerved on the opposite lane to park at the bus stop. She sat up, taking out her earbuds, and sighing. She just wanted to get this humiliating scene over with. But as always he surprised her with his actions. He got out of the wagon and looked at her confusingly.
"What's wrong, Charis?" he knelt in front of her, struggling to do so because of his injured leg. Now she felt bad for making him get down and be uncomfortable. He put his palms on her knees, craning his neck to look up at her blue eyes.
Charis found herself speechless, repeatedly opening her mouth in a futile attempt to respond to him. Faced with the question of why she was in such a state, she grappled with the overwhelming complexity of her circumstances.
Should she delve into the evident signs of depression that had started when she was merely thirteen? Or should she recount the heart-wrenching losses—the death of her mother, closely followed by the tragic demise of her brother just days before the anniversary of their mother's passing? Perhaps she should touch upon the profound grief she experienced over the loss of her horse, or the sense of detachment from reality that currently enveloped her.
The weight of Charis's silence bore heavily on Cole, who found solace in the sound of her laughter, her animated conversations, or even her singing. The prolonged silence and the anticipation for a response were unbearably distressing.
Various thoughts swirled in his mind—had he offended her or failed to provide the support she needed? He pondered whether his preoccupation with his own challenges, particularly his displacement as a quarterback, had inadvertently caused him to overlook her needs. Was he being selfish, thinking it was something he did?
"It's nothing serious," Charis gently shook her head, offering a reassuring smile. The concern in Cole's eyes was palpable, his desire to understand and support evident.
"It must be something," he insisted cautiously, his hand tenderly squeezing her leg in a gesture of comfort.
Hoping she would open up to him, he extended his arms, inviting her to stand. Charis nodded, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Cupping her cheeks with his palms, he wiped away her tears, their eyes locking in a shared moment of intensity. Charis reciprocated by encircling her palms around his wrists, leaning into his touch.
"What are you listening to?" Cole playfully lifted her phone, unlocking it to discover Lana Del Rey's music.
"Girl, no wonder." A laugh escaped him as he teased her choice of music.
Charis, slightly embarrassed, swatted at him, their laughter intertwining. In an embrace, he held her close, the circular motion of his hand on her back providing comfort.
"Glad I could make you laugh," he admitted sincerely, inhaling the lavender scent of her hair.
"I'm sorry for making you miss the Huddle," Charis murmured into his chest.
"Are you kidding? I already went there, fixed the cart, sold a bunch of cider, auctioned myself to Mrs. Edna Mutschnick, and helped Jackie with their stand," Cole recounted, listing his activities to suppress any guilt she might feel.
"Hold up, you auctioned yourself?" Charis looked up at him, loosening her grip slightly.
"You're looking at the most eligible bachelor in Silver Falls, Chair," he declared, leading her to the passenger side.
"And he's here, with me," Charis remarked with a smile, teasingly leaning on the back door. Cole leaned in for a kiss, but she playfully interrupted.
"Chair? Seriously?" she tilted her head, a hint of laughter escaping.
"I couldn't think of anything else," he admitted, sharing a laugh with her. He helped her into the car, expressing a desire to listen to happier music.
"Look, you don't have to tell me what's got you all in your feelings, but if you—" he began, his eyes expressing a willingness to listen. She smiled at him for referring to a song of Lana's.
"I'll tell you," Charis affirmed, beating him to the offer.
"But first, I need to put some music on, something happier," she added with a smile. Cole nodded, gesturing toward the compartment where CDs were stored. As she fumbled to find something, a particular CD caught her attention.
"Outfield? Are you actually kidding me right now?" she laughed incredulously.
"That's my mom's," Cole fibbed, knowing the sentimental value it held.
It was actually a CD he had bought for her, aware of her fondness for songs like "Your Love" and "All The Love In The World." In reality, his mom also enjoyed the CD. Charis inserted it, and the familiar tune of "Your Love" began, lifting both of their spirits.
Josie's on a vacation far away,
Come around and talk it over.
So many things that I want to say,
You know I like my girls a little bit older.
I just want to use your love tonight,
I don't want to lose your love tonight.
She didn't bother asking where he was taking her because, in truth, it didn't matter. As long as she was with him, anywhere felt safe. Gradually lowering the volume of the music, Charis glanced over at Cole, who met her gaze with a warm smile.
The journey of conversation began with her sharing about her morning, and he listened attentively, stealing occasional glances as he drove.
However, the atmosphere shifted as she delved into the more poignant details—her visit to the barn after a year, the reminder of how everything remained frozen in time. When she reached the point where Cole came to pick her up, she faltered, and he could sense the inner turmoil.
Charis unraveled the narrative, recounting the encounter with her father about the foal, and the haunting memories of the ravine and trail. Throughout, she apologized repeatedly.
"You say sorry too much," he remarked, his eyes on her as he slowed down the car nearing his house.
"Sorry," she whispered to herself, the apology almost involuntary.
She gazed ahead, recognizing the faint yellow house in the distance, and shared a comfortable silence with Cole as he parked the car. Exiting the vehicle, Charis looked at him expectantly, wondering about their next move.
"Do you think you'd be up for some therapy?" Cole's words lingered, accompanied by a hint of apprehension. He could see uncertainty in her eyes, a slight lip-gnawing revealing her internal conflict.
"What do you mean?" she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear, catching the gentle wind.
"I thought you could start with some lunging..." Cole suggested, and Charis smiled, looking down at her shoes. It was a sweet proposition, yet she wasn't entirely sure if she was ready for it.
"Taking the smile as a yes?" he inquired, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. The brewing storm in her eyes seemed to subside in his. He leaned in for a kiss, successfully this time. Breaking the kiss, they both smiled, and he led her towards the stables. Her body tensed with anticipation, muscles tightening. He didn't feel real. None of it did.
"I present to you, my bravest soldier," he announced, stopping by a magnificent golden horse. The yearning for the touch of such beautiful creatures overwhelmed her. Her eyes watered.
"Custard," she said, finishing his sentence.
Extending her arm to pet the horse, Cole momentarily turned around to retrieve the bridle and a rope. Charis opened the stable gate, stepping inside, and half-closing it behind her. She sighed, embracing the horse and leaning into it. As she waited for Cole, she brushed Custard with the nearby tools.
"Nice to finally meet you; Cole has talked greatly about you," she told the horse.
Cole returned, handing her the equipment. Skillfully, her hands clipped the bridle and the rope. Cole nodded encouragingly as the three of them walked to the small, rectangular, gated space. Climbing onto the wooden fence, Cole watched.
After a few minutes of walking, Charis encouraged Custard to start cantering. She worked with the horse effortlessly, reminiscing about her time with little kids who wanted to ride Malory.
She suddenly questioned why she had put this off for so long. Laughter bubbled up in contentment, and Katherine and George observed the pair from the porch with wide smiles, momentarily forgetting their own worries.
Charis and Cole eventually let Custard out into the pasture and walked among the Walter horses hand in hand. They discussed various topics, from riding and football to barrel racing, skillfully avoiding discussions about their injuries and how they had to give up certain activities. They decided they would meet at the cart the following day.
"A foal could be good for you; you'd raise it," Cole suggested.
"Yeah. I just don't want to forget and replace Malory," Charis confessed.
"You won't. I got a new sibling every year, and nothing could replace them; I could never forget them, trust me," Cole reassured her, making them both laugh.
"You'll learn to love the horse like you love the people in your life," he added, brushing her hair behind her ear.
"You're right," Charis agreed, realizing there was a different perspective to consider.
"Of course," he shrugged his shoulders, grinning down at her.
"No. Thank you, for making me see the other side of things," she said, stopping in her steps.
"Anything for you," he said as he leaned in to kiss her.
They found themselves discussing their families, noting the significant differences. Conversations flowed about how their fathers might have met, concluding it was probably because their mothers were good friends. Cole shared details about Isaac, and Lee, and their dynamics within the family, avoiding any discussion about Jackie, a topic he consistently shut down.
He was a bit on edge discussing Alex and Jackie, as he hadn't told her he was meeting Jackie and her friends that evening. The evening, which would drastically take off in a wrong turn.
Charis would later be shocked to learn from Alex, whom she met at the cider cart the following day, that Cole didn't attend Parker's game. Charis would also realize that he would not be coming, via sloppy text with no additional explanation.
Yet, one phrase echoed in Charis's mind — "trust me."
━━ 𝙧𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙖 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 !
there it goes! another short chapter :/ nonetheless a chapter!
i think you could sense the energy was a bit off at the very end😬 and that's on poor communication babes
btw i'll be putting out an outer banks fic in the following months so if you want a dt!
and fast and furious fans, i've got a new book out called McFly
don't forget to vote, comment and correct any mistakes that you may find!