CHARIS AWOKE TO THE SOFT RUSTLE OF THE HAY BENATH HER, the scent of earth mingling with the sweet aroma of freshly cut grass. Blinking against the dim light filtering through the wooden slats of the stall, she pushed herself upright, feeling the prickly strands of hay against her skin.
Confusion swept over her as she took in her surroundings. Where was she? How had she ended up here, lying in a horse stall? The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in her own bed, the weight of exhaustion pulling her into the depths of slumber.
But now, she found herself in familiar territory, surrounded by the comforting presence of equine companions. With a sense of determination, she rose to her feet, her movements sluggish from sleep. As she glanced around, she noticed the disarray of the stall—the scattered hay, the dirt-streaked walls.
Without hesitation, Charis set to work, her hands moving with practiced ease as she gathered the loose hay into neat piles and swept the dirt from the floor. There was a rhythm to the task, a sense of purpose that grounded her in the present moment. As she worked, her mind began to wander, drifting back to memories long forgotten. She remembered the days spent there, the endless hours she had spent riding through the fields, the wind whipping through her hair.
And then, as if summoned by her thoughts, she saw it—a majestic horse standing in the corner of the stall, its coat gleaming in the dim light. Charis approached cautiously, her heart racing with anticipation.
The horse regarded her with curious eyes, its gaze steady and unwavering. There was a sense of recognition in those depths, as if it had been waiting for her all along.
Without a second thought, Charis reached out a hand, feeling the warmth of the horse's flank beneath her touch. And then, in a swift and fluid motion, she swung herself onto its back, feeling the familiar thrill of freedom coursing through her veins. With a gentle nudge of her heels, Charis urged the horse forward, and together they burst out of the stall, galloping across the meadow with wild abandon. The wind whipped at her face, her hair streaming out behind her like a banner of defiance.
In that moment, Charis felt alive, more alive than she had ever felt before. She rode with the wind at her back, her arms outstretched, her heart soaring with joy.
And as they rode, Charis felt a sense of transformation sweeping over her. Her body felt whole and unbroken, her spirit unburdened by the weight of the past. It was as if the horse beneath her had unlocked something deep within her soul, something she had thought lost forever.
As they reached the crest of a hill, Charis saw it—a familiar house nestled in the valley below. And there, sitting astride a golden horse, was a boy with hair as bright as the sun. Charis's heart leaped with recognition, and without hesitation, she urged her horse onward, racing towards the boy with a sense of purpose that bordered on desperation.
And then, in the blink of an eye, they were together, riding side by side, their hands clasped tight, their hearts beating as one. But even as Charis reveled in the joy of the moment, she knew that it was fleeting, that soon she would have to awaken from this dream and return to the harsh reality of the world.
But for now, in this fleeting moment of bliss, she allowed herself to believe that anything was possible—that dreams could come true, if only for a little while longer.
Charis awoke with a start, her heart racing as she blinked away the remnants of her dream. The scorching sun that had filled her subconscious was a stark contrast to the chilly winter morning unfolding outside her window. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the curtains, she realized she wasn't alone. There, beside her in bed, lay the boy with hair as bright as the sun from her dreams. A smile tugged at her lips. For the first time in what felt like ages, she had enjoyed a peaceful night's sleep without the usual tossing and turning.
As Charis gazed at Cole's peaceful sleeping form, worry crept into her mind like a shadow in the dawn. While she was no stranger to the teenage rituals of indulgence in substances like alcohol and marijuana, the events of the previous night had left her unsettled. Cole's evident distress had stirred a sense of helplessness within her, a nagging concern that perhaps she wouldn't be able to provide the support he needed.
With a heavy sigh, she brushed a strand of hair from his eyes, revealing his serene expression. It was moments like these that made her heart ache with affection for him, but also with a tinge of uncertainty. As much as she wanted to be there for him, she couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy that lingered in the back of her mind.
The memory of her dream lingered, the image of the horse—Malory, she realized now—leaving her with a sense of contentment. Charis nudged Cole gently, knowing that Marilyn would soon be driving him home. "Five more minutes," Cole murmured sleepily, instinctively snuggling closer to Charis.
"It's the weekend, and you need to get up," Charis chuckled softly, trying to rouse him. Cole, still half-asleep, looked at her with a hint of confusion. He rubbed his eyes and the temple of his head before reaching for a pill from the bedside table, washing it down with a glass of water. As he glanced down at his disheveled clothes and then back up at Charis, she couldn't help but laugh at his sleepy state.
He leaned over and enveloped her in a hug, seeming reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed. "Alright, just five more minutes," Charis relented, returning his embrace and relishing the moment of tranquility. "But it's already five in the morning, and if you don't want to get caught, you need to get moving soon."
"I've never slept better in my life," Cole murmured, intertwining his fingers with Charis's. She nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of peace she hadn't experienced in a long time. As they lay there, she shared fragments of her dream with him, recounting the bits and pieces she could recall. His sleepy smile in response warmed her heart, his presence a comforting anchor in the quiet of the morning.
A knock on the bedroom door interrupted their moment, and Marilyn's voice filtered through as she urged Cole to get moving. With a playful grin, Charis engaged in a mock fight, trying to coax him out of bed. Their laughter filled the room as they exchanged kisses and playful banter, their bond growing stronger with each passing moment.
As the morning unfolded and Marilyn returned home, their father, already busy tending to the garden, received an unexpected phone call. Charis and Marilyn exchanged skeptical glances as their father listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line. After a brief conversation, he hung up and turned to his daughters with a serious expression.
"It's one of my friends," he explained, his brow furrowed. "He needs some help at his ranch."
Charis and Marilyn exchanged uncertain looks, unsure of what to make of the sudden request. While they were accustomed to lending a hand when needed, their father's tone left them feeling apprehensive.
After a moment of silent deliberation, they both nodded reluctantly, realizing that their father wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. With a sigh, they agreed to accompany him to their barn for gear, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, even if they weren't entirely sure what to expect.
As they gathered the necessary gear and loaded it into the truck, Charis and Marilyn engaged in quiet conversation. Marilyn couldn't shake the concern she felt for Cole after the events of the previous night.
"Is he okay?" Marilyn asked, her voice laced with worry as she glanced at her sister.
Charis hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She wanted to reassure Marilyn, but deep down, she shared the same concerns.
"Yeah, he's... fine," Charis replied with a forced smile, hoping to ease Marilyn's concerns. However, her nod was accompanied by a nagging sense of uncertainty. She couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right, and her own worry gnawed at her insides despite her attempts to suppress it.
The morning sun cast a golden glow over the rugged landscape of Colorado as Charis, Austin, and Marilyn prepared for their day. They gathered in the dim light of the barn, the scent of leather and horse mingling in the air.
Charis pulled on her worn cowboy boots, the leather soft and supple from years of wear. She adjusted the fit of her Wrangler jeans, the denim hugging her curves snugly. Over her shirt, she slipped on her favorite vest, adorned with patches from past adventures on the range.
Marilyn secured her own gear with practiced ease, her blonde hair tucked beneath a faded trucker cap. Austin, tall and weathered from years spent under the open sky, checked the cinch on his saddle with a knowing eye.
With their hats perched atop their heads, they made their way to the waiting Ford Ranger, the engine rumbling to life as they set off down the dusty road. The scenery unfolded before them in a breathtaking tapestry of rolling hills and towering mountains, the air crisp with the promise of a new day.
Charis wrestled with conflicting emotions as they made their way to the ranch. Part of her felt a flicker of excitement at the prospect of returning to the familiar setting, surrounded by the sprawling expanse of the ranch. Yet, underlying that excitement was a current of anxiety, fueled by uncertainty about what the day would entail.
Despite her reservations, Charis couldn't deny the allure of the ranch. It held a special place in her heart, a sanctuary of sorts where she felt a connection to the land and the animals that roamed its vast pastures. The thought of being there again, even if only for a day, tugged at her heartstrings.
However, her worries persisted. What would she do at the ranch? Would she be expected to ride a horse, despite her apprehensions? The thought of confronting her fears head-on, of facing the very thing that had once brought her joy but now stirred up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, left her feeling unsettled.
Yet, Charis reasoned with herself, perhaps this was an opportunity for growth, a chance to confront her fears and reclaim a part of herself that she had long neglected. She tried to frame it as a form of exposure therapy, a way to gradually reacquaint herself with something she once loved but had since pushed aside.
As they approached the ranch, Charis braced herself for whatever the day might bring. She knew there would be challenges ahead, moments of discomfort and uncertainty. But deep down, she also harbored a glimmer of hope that amidst the uncertainty, she might find a sense of peace and belonging once more.
As Mumford & Sons serenaded them through the speakers, Marilyn found herself lost in the rhythm of the music, using it as a temporary escape from the worries that weighed heavy on her mind. She stole a glance at Charis in the rearview mirror, a pang of sympathy tugging at her heart. Despite her sister's stubborn nature, Marilyn couldn't help but hope that today would offer Charis some semblance of peace and joy.
Danny's image flitted through Marilyn's thoughts, causing a faint blush to color her cheeks. She quickly diverted her attention to the passing scenery, willing herself to focus on the road ahead rather than the fluttering of her heart.
In contrast, Austin's excitement was palpable, evident in the way he hummed along to the music and eagerly anticipated their arrival at the ranch. For him, this day held the promise of cherished moments spent with his daughters, a chance to reconnect and bond over shared memories of ranching days gone by.
Forty minutes later, they arrived at their destination—a sprawling ranch nestled in the heart of the countryside. Mr. Peterson, a grizzled rancher with a twinkle in his eye, greeted them warmly alongside his son Mike as they stepped out of the truck.
"Good to see ya, Austin," he said, clasping hands with Charis's father. "Marilyn, Charis, welcome to the Peterson Ranch."
"Thanks for having us, Red," Austin replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
The two of them led them up to the ranch house, where the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the aroma of sizzling bacon. As they settled around the kitchen table, Red explained the reason for their visit.
"Got a bit of a situation on our hands," he said, pouring steaming mugs of coffee. "Two of our wranglers got themselves hurt trying to corral some of the broncos. We need some backup to gather 'em up and maybe do a bit of breaking in."
"Now, I could've called in some young guns for this job, but there ain't nobody quite like your old man here," Red declared, giving Austin a hearty pat on the back, his weathered face creasing into a smirk.
"You're too kind," Marilyn chuckled, a glint of pride in her eyes.
"Some of these broncs were just brought in this week, which means they've still got plenty of spirit left in 'em. They're young and full of that brand-new kind of crazy, so you best watch yourselves. They've got a mean kick," Red cautioned, his voice carrying the weight of experience.
Charis exchanged a glance with her father and sister, knowing that this was their chance to lend a helping hand, but she was worried. Before she could speak, Red turned to her with a hopeful expression.
"Charis, I know you ain't much for wrangling no more, but I was wondering if you'd be willing to take my youngest, you remember Leah and James, for a ride out on the range. They're pretty handy with a horse, but ever since their ma passed, I ain't had the time to give 'em the attention they deserve."
Charis felt a surge of empathy for the twins, knowing what it was like to lose a parent at such a young age. Without hesitation, she nodded her agreement.
"I'd be happy to take them out," she said, her voice steady with determination.
Red's face broke into a grateful smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Much obliged, Charis. I'll get 'em saddled up for ya. You'll find Leah and James out by the barn." Mike said.
"No worries, I can do it," Charis nodded.
Charis ambled toward the rugged Ford Ranger, the crunch of gravel beneath her boots echoing in the crisp morning air. With a grunt, she hoisted her saddle onto her shoulder, the weight a familiar comfort against her muscles. Her gaze swept over the sprawling expanse of the ranch, where the majestic peaks of the Rockies kissed the cerulean sky.
As she approached the stables, the scent of hay and leather enveloped her senses, transporting her back to a time when the world seemed simpler, untamed. She spotted a figure at the far end, his hands deftly working a hose, water cascading over his calloused fingers.
"Hey there," Charis drawled, her words tinged with a twang as she neared the man. "I'm here to take the twins for a ride. Which horse can I wrangle?"
The man turned, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he appraised her with a knowing smile. "Well, hello, miss. You'll be wantin' Bandit here," he replied, gesturing to a striking Appaloosa with a coat as dappled as a starlit sky.
"Bandit, huh?" Charis mused, her lips curling into a grin. "Looks like a fine steed."
"He's a good'un," the man affirmed, his voice as steady as the rhythm of hoofbeats on soft earth. "Used to be a barrel racer, so he's got some spunk in 'im."
Charis nodded her thanks as the man sauntered off, leaving her alone with Bandit. With practiced hands, she brushed the horse's sleek coat, feeling the ripple of muscle beneath her touch. Soon, she had saddled and bridled him, the leather creaking softly with each movement.
Leading Bandit out into the open, Charis's eyes fell upon the twins—James astride a chestnut mare, Leah standing nearby with a look of exasperation etched upon her features.
"Y'all ready to saddle up?" Charis called out, her voice carrying across the dusty expanse.
James shot her a cocky grin, his hat tipped low over his brow. "Been ready since dawn, Charis," he replied, his words brimming with youthful bravado.
Leah rolled her eyes, her hands busy adjusting the bridle. "Speak for yourself, James. Some of us actually care about proper preparation," she retorted, her tone laced with a hint of annoyance.
Charis chuckled at their banter, a sense of fondness swelling in her chest. These twins may have been a handful, but they had a spirit as wild and untamed as the land itself.
With a flick of her wrist, Charis swung herself into the saddle, the familiar sensation sending a thrill down her spine. As Bandit pranced beneath her, eager for the open range, Charis knew that today would be a ride to remember—a symphony of hooves and laughter echoing through the vast expanse of the Colorado wilderness.
As Bandit trotted out into the open pasture, Charis found herself enveloped in a flurry of questions from Leah and James, their youthful enthusiasm palpable in the crisp morning air.
"Charis, where've you been? We haven't seen you 'round these parts in ages!" James exclaimed, his voice tinged with curiosity.
Leah chimed in, her brow furrowed in concern. "And why'd you stop barrel racing, Charis? Pa always said you were the best in the county."
Charis chuckled softly, her heart swelling with affection for the twins. "Well, life got a bit complicated, y'know? But I reckon it's high time I showed you two the ropes."
With a flick of her reins, Charis urged Bandit into a smooth gallop, the wind whipping through her hair as they raced across the verdant expanse. Despite her initial trepidation, she couldn't help but feel a thrill coursing through her veins—a reminder of the freedom she had once known.
But as they rode, Charis couldn't shake the nagging worry gnawing at the edges of her consciousness. The memory of her injury, of the pain and uncertainty that had followed, loomed large in her mind. What if she pushed herself too hard and ended up back where she started?
As they slowed to a gentle trot beside a winding river, Leah and James resumed their bickering, their voices rising and falling like the babble of the water. Charis smiled fondly at their antics, a pang of nostalgia tugging at her heartstrings.
"So, what's new with you two?" Charis interjected, steering the conversation away from her own troubles.
Leah shrugged, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "Not much. Pa's been keepin' us busy with chores around the ranch. But we're fixin' to start school next year—gonna be freshmen at the same school you go to, you'll be a senior."
Charis's smile faltered at the mention of school, a heaviness settling in the pit of her stomach. "Yeah, about that..." she trailed off, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I might not be a senior next year."
Leah and James exchanged a puzzled glance, their expressions mirroring Charis's own inner turmoil. "What d'ya mean, Charis?" James asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Charis sighed, her gaze drifting to the rushing waters of the river. "I'm... I'm not sure I'll pass my junior year, y'know?"
The twins fell silent, their faces a mask of disbelief. "But... but you're Charis," Leah protested, her voice barely above a whisper. "You can't fail."
Charis offered them a weak smile, her heart heavy with the weight of her own uncertainty. "I wish it were that simple, Leah. But sometimes, life has a way of throwin' us curveballs we ain't prepared for. I hope we're clear that you can't say anything to Marilyn and Dad." The twins chuckled as they nodded.
As they ambled through the pasture, Charis felt the weight of Leah and James's curious gazes lingering on her. She knew they were itching to know more about why she had stopped barrel racing, but the memories were still too raw, too painful to dredge up.
"I told you, it was just an accident," Charis muttered, her voice tight with emotion. "Let's drop it, okay?"
But the twins were persistent, their youthful curiosity driving them to press further. "But what happened, Charis? You never talk about it," Leah persisted, her eyes searching Charis's face for answers.
Charis's jaw tightened, the memories threatening to engulf her in their dark embrace. "I said drop it, Leah," she snapped, her voice sharper than intended.
The twins fell silent, chastened by Charis's sudden outburst. Guilt gnawed at Charis's conscience, but she couldn't bring herself to revisit the pain of the past, not now, not ever.
As they continued their journey, Charis's eyes fell upon a solitary tree standing sentinel in the midst of the pasture, a lone rock nestled beneath its shade. A spark of inspiration ignited within her, and she guided Bandit toward the makeshift barrel racing course.
"Alright, y'all," Charis called out, her voice tinged with excitement. "Let's see if we can't stir up some dust and give this barrel racing thing a whirl."
Leah and James exchanged uncertain glances, but they followed Charis's lead, their curiosity piqued. With Charis's guidance, they made a few tentative attempts, weaving in and out of the makeshift barrels with varying degrees of success.
But as the minutes stretched on, Charis could sense their frustration mounting, their determination waning with each failed attempt. "C'mon, Charis, just show us how it's done," James grumbled, his voice tinged with stubbornness.
Charis hesitated, her heart heavy with the weight of their expectations. "I... I can't, James," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Leah and James exchanged puzzled glances, confusion etched upon their faces. "But you're Charis," Leah protested, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You were the best barrel racer in the county."
Charis offered them a sad smile, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "Not anymore, Leah. Not anymore." And with that, she urged Bandit forward, leaving the twins to grapple with their own disappointment.
Charis took a deep breath, steeling herself to reveal the painful truth that had haunted her for so long. "Fine," she relented, her voice heavy with emotion. "I'll tell you what happened."
With Leah and James's attentive gazes fixed upon her, Charis recounted the fateful day that had changed her life forever. "I was out on a horse trail, just me and Malory," she began, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. "And then this stupid truck came barreling down the road, spooking Malory and sending us careening into a ditch."
Tears welled in Charis's eyes as she recalled the horror of that moment—the sickening crunch of metal, the agonizing pain that had ripped through her body as she lay trapped beneath the weight of her beloved horse. "Malory didn't make it," she whispered, her voice choked with grief. "And I almost lost my leg."
James's face contorted with rage, his fists clenched at his sides. "That's messed up," he spat, his voice thick with indignation. "You had every right to be angry, Charis."
Charis nodded, her eyes ablaze with determination. "You're damn right I was angry," she declared, her voice ringing out with newfound resolve. "But I'm done letting that anger control me."
With a defiant flick of her reins, Charis urged Bandit forward, her heart pounding in her chest as they thundered toward the makeshift barrels. As they neared the tree and rock, Charis's muscles tensed with anticipation, her mind clear and focused.
And then, in a blur of motion, they were weaving in and out of the obstacles with breathtaking speed and precision. Charis's heart soared with exhilaration as Bandit responded to her every command, their movements fluid and effortless.
Leah and James watched in awe as Charis raced around the barrels, her skill and determination evident in every stride. As she crossed the makeshift finish line, the twins erupted into cheers, their jubilant voices ringing out across the pasture.
Charis loathed the persistent ache in her leg, refusing to relent. She pondered its implications for the long term; could she continue riding like this, enduring the pain only to soothe it with ice later? How sustainable was this cycle before causing permanent damage? These questions weighed heavily on her mind, prompting a need for deeper contemplation. Additionally, she realized she must resume physiotherapy to address the issue more comprehensively.
"That was amazing, Charis!" Leah exclaimed, her eyes shining with admiration.
James grinned from ear to ear, his earlier anger replaced with pure joy. "You're a natural," he declared, his voice filled with pride.
Charis felt a surge of gratitude wash over her as she basked in the warmth of their praise. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she felt alive, free from the weight of her past and the uncertainty of the future.
As Leah and James took their turns around the barrels, Charis watched with a sense of wonder, marveling at the resilience and determination of youth. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the land, Charis knew that no matter what obstacles lay ahead, she would face them head-on, with courage and grace, just like she had that day on the trail.
As they trotted back into the ranch, Charis, Leah, and James engaged in lively chatter about the various types of saddles and James's newfound aspiration for bronc riding. The air buzzed with excitement, the promise of adventure hanging tantalizingly close.
With gritted teeth, Charis withdrew her leg from the stirrup, allowing it to hang freely in the air. Each breath was a deliberate effort to manage the pain, but she refused to succumb. She knew her own strength; this discomfort was just another obstacle, far from the worst she had faced. It wouldn't deter her – she had overcome greater challenges before.
"Hey Charis, you ever tried a western saddle?" Leah asked, her voice filled with curiosity.
Charis smiled, adjusting her hat as she rode alongside her siblings. "Of course. I've ridden in all sorts of saddles. Western saddles are great for long rides. They're really comfortable."
James nodded enthusiastically, his eyes alight with interest. "I've only ever ridden in an English saddle. What's the difference?"
Charis glanced over at him, a playful glint in her eye. "Well, for starters, Western saddles have a larger seat and a horn upfront. They're designed for working on the ranch, like roping cattle or barrel racing. They have those big, sturdy stirrups too. Perfect for keeping your balance."
"Can't believe you've never ridden in a Western. You live on a ranch for god's sake," James said.
Leah shrugged, her expression sheepish as she responded to James's incredulous remark. "I mean, I haven't done it in a long time. I compete in dressage."
Charis raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "That's right, Leah. You and your fancy footwork with those prancing horses."
Leah chuckled, a hint of pride in her voice. "Hey, dressage takes skill too, you know. It's all about precision and finesse."
James shook his head in mock disbelief, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, I still think you should give Western riding a try. Who knows, maybe you'll discover a hidden talent for barrel racing."
Leah's laughter rang out across the pasture, the sound mixing with the gentle rustle of the wind through the trees. "I highly doubt that, James. But I'll consider."
"Did you see the way Bandit handled those barrels, Leah? He's a natural," James exclaimed, his eyes shining with excitement.
Leah nodded in agreement, her blonde hair bouncing with each step of her horse. "Yeah, Charis did a great job guiding him. And James, you were pretty impressive too, considering it was your first time."
James grinned, his chest puffing out with pride. "Thanks. I can't wait to try bronc riding next. It's gonna be epic!"
Charis chuckled at her siblings' enthusiasm, the sound echoing across the open expanse of the ranch. "Just make sure you're ready for it, James. Bronc riding ain't for the faint of heart."
James nodded eagerly, determination burning bright in his eyes. "Don't worry, Charis. I'll be ready for anything."
Leah rolled her eyes playfully, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "He's just saying that now. But we'll see how he feels when he's face-to-face with a bucking bronco."
Charis laughed, the sound mingling with the clip-clop of their horses' hooves. "Well, I'll be right there cheering you on, James. Just don't forget to hold on tight!"
Suddenly, their attention was drawn to the arena, where Austin was attempting to tame a bucking horse with all the determination of a seasoned cowboy. James let out an exuberant whoop, his eyes alight with admiration as Austin valiantly clung to the horse's back.
"Damn, he's good," James said, his enthusiasm infectious as Austin was thrown to the ground, only to dust himself off and mount the horse once more.
Charis smiled fondly at her father's resilience, her heart swelling with pride at his unwavering tenacity. With Leah and James in tow, she guided Bandit closer to the arena, where the wranglers cheered Austin on with raucous enthusiasm.
But amid the cheers and applause, Charis's gaze drifted to her sister, Marilyn, who stood on the sidelines with a mixture of pride and apprehension etched upon her features. As Marilyn caught sight of Charis, Leah, and James approaching, a radiant smile spread across her face.
"You're all smiley," Marilyn observed, her voice soft with emotion.
Charis's smile widened as she recounted her day's adventures, her heart brimming with gratitude for the sense of normalcy that had returned to her life. "Yeah, I did some barrel riding today, and everything felt like it used to," she explained, her voice tinged with wonder.
Marilyn's eyes filled with tears of joy as she enveloped Charis in a tight embrace, her words lost amidst the rush of emotion that surged between them. And as she turned her attention to Bandit, the majestic horse that had become Charis's steadfast companion, Marilyn couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the role he had played in her sister's journey toward healing and self-discovery.
As they led the horses back to their respective stalls, Charis couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia as she observed Bandit, his sleek coat gleaming in the afternoon sun. He reminded her so much of Malory—the way he moved, the way he held himself with an air of confidence and grace.
Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, Charis waited patiently for Leah and James to finish tending to their horses before they made their way back up to the house for a late lunch or early dinner. The work at a ranch was never truly over, but they could at least try to convince themselves otherwise.
As they gathered around the table, the air was thick with the aroma of grilled steak and freshly baked bread. Austin, Red, Marilyn, and Mike regaled the twins and Charis with tales of their wrangling adventures—of how far the horses had wandered, of the challenges they had faced, and the triumphs they had achieved.
"But let me tell ya, we had one heck of a hiccup along the way," Mike exclaimed, his voice tinged with excitement. "We were rounding up a group of mustangs when suddenly, they stampeded off in all directions. We thought we'd lost 'em for good, but somehow, we managed to corral 'em back together."
The twins listened wide-eyed, their mouths agape with wonder as they hung on every word of Mike's thrilling tale. The twins had begun recounting their own adventures of the day.
Leah's eyes sparkled with excitement as she launched into a detailed account of their day's adventures, her words tumbling out in a rush of enthusiasm. "Oh, it was amazing! Charis took us out for a ride, and we practiced barrel racing around this makeshift course she set up in the pasture. And let me tell you, James and I were terrible at first, but Charis showed us how it's done."
James nodded eagerly, his face alight with pride as he picked up where Leah left off. "Yeah, Charis was like a pro out there. She raced around those barrels with such speed and precision, it was like watching a real-life rodeo star in action."
Charis blushed at their praise, her heart swelling with gratitude for her siblings' admiration. "Aw, it wasn't that big of a deal," she protested modestly, though a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
Austin turned to Charis with a look of curiosity. "You raced?" he asked, his brow furrowed in surprise.
Charis nodded, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Well, sort of. Around a rock," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Austin's eyes softened with pride as he reached across the table to squeeze Charis's hand. "It doesn't matter, Charis. You still did it, and I'm proud of you," he declared, his voice filled with unwavering support.
Marilyn's eyes shone with pride as she listened to her siblings sing Charis's praises, her heart warmed by the bond they shared. "Well, it sounds like you had quite the adventure today," she remarked, her voice tinged with affection.
Austin nodded in agreement, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "That's my girl," he said proudly, his gaze lingering on Charis with a mixture of love and admiration.
Red, who had been quiet throughout the meal, suddenly spoke up, his gaze fixed on Charis with a mixture of admiration and sympathy. "If you're thinking of getting back into racing, I'd be happy to gift you Bandit," he offered, his voice filled with genuine sincerity. "I pity him being wasted on this ranch when he was destined for much more."
The girl was at a loss for words, the weight of Red's offer settling heavily upon her shoulders. She knew she would have to think about it more seriously than over a steak, but for now, she simply nodded her gratitude, her heart filled with a sense of possibility and uncertainty.
"Let me know if you decide. If not, you are welcome here to lead trail rides for tourists," Red said with a smile.
Charis expressed her gratitude to Red and the entire family for their hospitality, exchanging hugs with the twins before walking back to the Ford Ranger with Marilyn and Austin.
Just as they were about to climb in, her phone buzzed with an incoming call from Danny. She answered, listening intently as he relayed the news about Cole getting drunk at his mother's awards event. Charis sighed heavily, thanking Danny for informing her before ending the call. As she settled into the truck, her thoughts drifted to Cole, her mind filled with concern for him and the tumultuous path they seemed to be on together.
As she hung up the phone, her thoughts immediately turned to Cole, her mind conjuring images of his hair as bright as the sun. She couldn't shake off the worry that gripped her heart, hoping he was alright amidst whatever trouble he had found himself in.