Caroline
PTSD doesn't make you weak. It makes you a survivor—DaShanne Stok
Noah had a date.
Caroline watched from the porch as her brother loaded up the back of his new truck. New was a subjective term. Noah had bought it used from some guy who lived on a ranch on the other side of town the day after his truck had broken down for good. It was black and big and grumbled when he turned it on, though not nearly as loud as his old one had.
Noah has told her that he was going out but hadn't specified that it was a date. To Caroline's eyes; however, it was very obvious that it was. Her brother had combed his hair and washed the mud off of his boots. He was wearing a navy blue buttoned-up shirt and had changed out of his work jeans. He'd even gotten flowers at some point. She watched as he opened the front door to the truck and placed them inside on the passenger's side seat.
She wasn't entirely certain what to think about Noah going on this date. He normally wasn't one to hide what was going on in his life. Caroline knew that he often over-shared in an attempt to get her to speak but, while she always wanted to respond and let him know what she thought, she could just never formulate the words and get them to come out of her mouth.
Noah seemed excited enough and Caroline knew that this was the first date he'd gone on since he'd broken up with Abby Noland. In a way, Caroline had been glad when that relationship had ended. She'd known, along with everyone else in Wichita Falls, that Noah and Abby were likely going to end up married had the awful thing not happened. Caroline had also known another truth, something Noah hadn't even known. Something that only a sister could know.
Abby and Noah never would have worked out. Her brother was an honourable man, more so than many of the other men she'd met in her twenty-two years. He would've done right by Abby, would've tried to make her happy and content and comfortable for the rest of their lives. But he would've gotten bored. Not that he would ever have admitted it.
In truth, Abby Noland was just too different from the type of girl that Caroline knew her brother needed. She was high-maintenance, hardly down-to-earth, and while she'd lived around horses all her life, Caroline knew that she'd never had an appreciation for the animals, not like Noah had. And she'd hated the rodeo. Abby had confided to Caroline once that the circuit was too grungy and dirty for her and that she'd wanted Noah to quit.
She hadn't understood that the rodeo was a large part of who Noah was. That, while he sometimes had his doubts about competing, rodeo was who he was in his soul. He could no sooner give it up than he could give up his right hand. If he did, he would be lost, directionless. Retirement was one thing. Being given an ultimatum and asked to quit by the person who was supposed to be supporting you was an entirely different matter.
And Abby had never really gotten along with Caroline's family either. She put on an act whenever she'd arrived at the Hartley ranch to see Noah, one that rarely came off. But Caroline had caught the other woman roll her eyes and scoff at Caroline's family when she thought that none of them were looking and this had always rubbed Caroline the wrong way. She never confronted the other woman about it, but the thought of doing so had always weighed heavily on her mind.
It wasn't like Caroline could have told Noah any of this, of course. At the time, he'd been head-over-boots for the girl. Caroline couldn't blame him for that, either. Abby was easily one of the prettiest girls in town. She hailed from a nice family, rich and a tad stuck up, but nice where it mattered. Abby's parents had adored Noah but not in the way one might think. Abby's father had regarded Noah almost as if he were a prized horse, needing to be groomed and trained to perfection in order to fit into their world. They hadn't looked at Noah like he could one day be family, nor as if he were to be like a son to them if he were to marry their daughter.
They'd tolerated Noah, of course. Part of it was the fact that he was handsome and one of the highest ranked bull riders in the world. Had he been some amateur or low-ranked competitor, Caroline knew that their tolerance level would have been significantly lower than it had been.
So, when Noah had decided that it was time for he and Caroline to pack up and move away from the town they'd both grown up in, she'd been more than relieved to learn that they would be leaving Abby Noland behind. Sure, Abby wasn't the worst person in the world, but Caroline hoped, for Noah's sake, that they never saw her again.
In a way, Caroline was happy that Noah was going out. She'd noticed that he didn't seem to have very many friends anymore, he'd left all of them behind in Texas, and he hadn't seemed to be bothered about making new ones here in Tishomingo. The last time she'd seen one of Noah's friends had been when Ethan had stopped by and he didn't really count anyways. Ethan was more family than he was a friend.
Sure, she'd seen Noah be friendly with their neighbours, people she didn't really know but had seen from time to time. She didn't even know their names. But she'd been able to recognize Noah's easy, friendly grin when they'd helped him home after his truck had broken down on the road. They seemed like good people but Caroline had realized that Noah didn't really know them that well either because while he'd been grateful, he'd also been rigid and slightly tense.
He didn't seem like that now. Her brother was practically bouncing with giddiness and there seemed to be a permanent smile on his face. It was as if someone had come along and just pumped life back into him. For months, he'd been walking around like a zombie, just like she did, except he was better at hiding it. Perhaps zombie was the wrong word. Robot.
That was better.
Noah was a robot, preprogrammed with all of the right responses to whatever people asked of him. He went through the motions. Stiff, controlled, like his entire being was doing no more than following the simple commands his brain was feeding to him. Get up. Feed and water the horses. Buy groceries. Sleep.
That was Noah.
It was like he'd forgotten how to enjoy things. He didn't enjoy working the horses, not really, even though he faked it well. He didn't enjoy competing in the rodeo, something that used to bring him such joy, though he still entered in the rodeos he could make it to. He didn't even really enjoy being around Caroline, and the two of them used to be so close.
Most of that was her fault. The part about him not enjoying her company. Hell, half the time, she didn't enjoy her own company. She didn't speak, didn't communicate with anyone. Just herself. She was the zombie. Reduced to simple thoughts and simple motions. And, like Noah, she didn't really enjoy a lot of things anymore. It was hard to enjoy the things that had once made you so happy when the people you used to share them with were gone.
But Caroline was beginning to enjoy music more than she ever had before. The days she spent with Bailey playing guitar made her feel more alive than she had felt in a long time. She'd never thought something so simple as learning the guitar would have such an effect on her. Sure, she'd always liked to listen to music but she'd never considered playing an instrument.
She wasn't even sure what it was about the guitar that she liked. It was the soft strumming and the way that the acoustic sound resonated throughout the forest. It was the twang and the richness and the way it seemed to connect with her, down to her very soul. The sound never failed to raise gooseflesh on her arms.
And she liked the way that she communicated with Bailey. Pen and paper was very old fashioned but Caroline liked the simplicity of it. Several times, she'd tried to write something to Noah but she could never figure out what to say to him. She hadn't spoken with him in a year. Hadn't communicated with him at all in that long. What could she say to him? What now?
It wasn't like it mattered. She thought about it but could never even manage to pick up the pen. It was different trying to talk to her brother than it was trying to talk to Bailey. With Bailey, she could ask about music. They could talk about that and nothing else. They had no history, no experience with one another, really. Caroline knew who Bailey really was but it didn't seem to matter much to either of them. And she knew that, if she outed Bailey, the other woman would likely be forced to hide away, far from the prying eyes of the paparazzi who would come looking for her.
The knowledge of these things meant that Caroline could speak to Bailey more freely. She didn't have to worry about Bailey finding out about the awful thing that had ruined her life because she had no intention of telling her about that and it was unlikely that Bailey could ever find out that knowledge for herself without being told by somebody.
And knowing about Bailey's fame and the consequences of her actions were she to ever report Bailey to the paparazzi...well, Caroline wasn't the sort of person who would ever do that anyone. She respected that Bailey gave her the privacy she wanted. She'd never tried to pry into why Caroline didn't talk. She sometimes asked personal questions, but even these weren't intimidating. More often than not, Bailey's questions asked about Caroline's favourite food or colour, what music she liked or where she wanted to visit in life. She never asked about the past, only ever about the present or a hypothetical future.
Caroline knew that, if Bailey were to respect her privacy than she would do the same for her. Bailey had, once, confided in Caroline about the difficulties of fame. She told her of the always-present paparazzi and the way that an offhand remark could be twisted to mean something that she'd never said. Even the fans, who Bailey said she adored, could be tiring. Always asking for pictures and autographs, never pausing to think that maybe Bailey just wanted to grab a coffee at Dunkin' Donuts without getting hounded.
With Noah, things were so much more difficult. Every time she looked at him, she saw the faces of her dead family members and felt pain and she knew it was the same for him when he looked at her. What made it worse was the fact that she felt such guilt over Aaron's death. While she knew there was nothing she could have done to prevent her parents from dying, Aaron had been injured while helping her out of the burning house. The ceiling had collapsed on him, leaving her relatively unscathed as he suffered from internal bleeding. She should have been the one that was injured. She was the older sister. She was meant to protect him, not the other way around.
But Aaron had been the one to pay the final price and Caroline had never really forgiven herself for what had happened to her baby brother.
Caroline was jerked out of her thoughts as Noah slammed the door to the truck shut. He looked up at where she sat on the porch and she thought she saw a look of guilt pass across his face. It faded quickly but his mouth set sternly and Caroline felt shame rush through her for she could guess his thoughts. He was feeling guilty about leaving her behind and thinking that he should stay.
Always the selfless one.
"Hey," he called out to her. She watched as he raked his fingers through his light brown hair and adjusted the sleeve of his shirt. "I'm heading out. I don't know when I'll be back. There's grilled chicken and salad in the fridge for dinner. If you need anything, I've got my phone. You can text me, I guess."
He waited for a moment and Caroline did her best to smile at him reassuringly, silently telling him to go. She wasn't sure if she quite managed it or if it were more of a grimace, but Noah still looked slightly startled at the half-response.
Caroline did nothing but watch as Noah slowly clambered into his truck. He looked back at her several times, mouth still downturned, but eventually started the engine and drove up the dirt road that led down to their ranch. She watched him go until he disappeared.
For a few long moments, Caroline stayed where she was. She wasn't entirely certain what to do now that she knew she would be alone indefinitely. Usually, she had a rough time estimate for how long Noah would be away from the ranch but he hadn't seemed to know himself this time around. Caroline wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.
Finally, Caroline's eyes swept towards the barn. She hesitated then got to her feet and walked down the creaking porch steps and across the drive towards the barn. She had to pull the door open and then she paused, staring inside.
It had been a long time since she'd walked inside of the barn. She'd come up to the doorway several times, never having the courage to actually go inside. It was hard for her to look at the horses. Both Gypsy and Rafiki had been gifts to Caroline and Noah from their parents and sometimes that was all Caroline could see when she looked at them.
So, she'd avoided them, and everything else that had made her think of her parents and Aaron and kept all of her emotions locked up inside of her where they could hardly escape. In a way, she'd never even really grieved the deaths of her late family members. She'd put up walls instead, a perfect defence mechanism, to block out the pain.
When she'd woken up in the hospital after getting treated for smoke inhalation and realized that the impossible was true, Caroline hadn't even shed a tear. She'd been too wound up in grief to cry, too shocked to do more than stare blankly at the empty world in front of her.
And so she'd denied it all. She blocked out the things she didn't want to think about, avoided the things that she couldn't block out, and left Noah to deal with the rest. He'd done it all, from planning the funerals to selling the ranch and planning the move to Oklahoma. He'd done everything by himself and never complained and Caroline had never woken up long enough to see the consequences of her silent grief on her brother.
Now, as she slowly came back to herself, as she began to live again, Caroline could truly see all the damage that she herself had caused. There was a chronic tiredness about her brother now and his eyes were always tight and sad. He had a stern set to his mouth, like he was constantly waiting for more bad news.
Caroline didn't know when or how, but one day she was hoping that she could help Noah through some of his own pent-up grief. Maybe one day they could work through it together.
For now, Caroline had her own challenges to overcome before she could get to that point in time and the first was staring her in the face. She looked deep into the barn where she could hear the horses eating their dinner.
She took a carefully measured step into the barn and paused as the sound of her boots echoed across the space. Rafiki stuck his head out of stall, the furthest one from the door, and snorted when he saw her. Then, disinterested, he went back to eating his feed. Caroline could hear him munching away, not at all bothered by her presence.
Caroline breathed deeply and forced herself to walk to the first stall in the barn, the one nearest her. She paused, staring into the stall at Gypsy who hadn't seemed to notice her yet. Caroline had always liked the way that Gypsy looked. She was a pretty horse, palomino with four white stockings and a blaze on her face.
The horse had her dead down, face stuck in a feed bin, but looked up as Caroline stepped up to the door. That was all that separated the two. A simple wooden door with a metal latch. Nothing more.
Gypsy stared at Caroline for a moment with her steady dark brown eyes. It seemed as if the both of them were holding their breath, unsure. And then Gypsy whickered and moved to stick her head over the door, necking extending so that she could sniff at Caroline. The horse nudged the woman and then let out a soft snort, a sound of derision that seemed to say, "Finally! I was beginning to wonder when you would show up!", and rubbed her nose against Caroline.
Caroline could feel tears brimming at the corners of her eyes and sniffed delicately. She'd missed this. The feeling of being loved entirely for who you are, no questions asked. The feeling of acceptance that only an animal could provide and Caroline, for the first time in a year, felt one of the hard walls she'd built around herself start to crumble down.
She opened the door to the stall and stepped inside. Gypsy sniffed at her and nudged her, tossing her mane out as she shook and head and nickering softly. And Caroline, overcome with a bout of long overdue pent-up emotion, threw her arms around Gypsy's neck and, at last, allowed herself to cry in grief for her dead family members.
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Music recommendation: Road Less Travelled by Lauren Alaina