Page 29 of Chains and Vows

I am still here.

In fact, I am dug the fuck in.

Hell, I'm family now.

Which means everything has changed for me. And Cash's little 'talk' this morning proves it.

"What are you thinkin' about?"

I look at Savannah, realize both Cash and Wyatt have excused themselves while I was deep in thought. Their voices low, drifting into the dining room now from somewhere else.

"Us, baby," I reply. "How things changed so fast."

"I'm kinda spinnin’,” Savannah admits.

I look at her now. All happy. Her eyes bright. Her smile wide. "No need to spin," I say. "It's all gonna work out. You wanna take a walk with me? Show me around a bit?" I nod my head to the window where it's just about dark, but not quite.

Savannah brightens even more. "I'd love to."

We scoot our chairs back and she takes my hand when we stand. Then she leads me out of the dining room, lookin' over her shoulder at me with a coy wink, tellin' me she's got ideas about this walkin' tour.

We grab our coats from the mudroom, then leave through the back door. I don't care where we go, I just wanna be outside for a bit. I wanna process this day. I wanna remember it.

Because it's a big day and she don't even know it yet.

"You know what I discovered about myself this mornin'?"

Savannah chuckles. "Tell me."

"I can ride a horse."

Which makes her snicker. "You went cowboyin' with Cash and all of a sudden you're an expert, are ya?"

"Well, I can't make the horse do fancy shit the way you do. But it did its best to dump me and I stuck."

She leads me into the barn and the moment we cross the threshold a chorus of nickers rises like a congregation acknowledgin' their pastor, low and soft and rolling down the aisle in a wave.

Heads appear over stall doors one by one, ears pricked forward, nostrils flaring wide to catch our scent, and she reaches out with her free hand to touch each velvet muzzle as we pass like she's countin' blessings.

The overhead lights are dimmed to something amber and warm, just enough to see by, and the whole place feels like a cathedral built for creatures instead of people.

Hooves shuffle against stall mats. A tail swishes somewhere in the dark. I can hear the rhythmic pull of teeth on hay, and it settles something in my chest I didn't know was still wound tight from dinner.

"Which one did you ride," Savannah asks. "Point it out."

I scoff. "Shit, I don't know. Didn't get his name. One of those reddish-brown ones with black feet and faces. He gleamed in the sunlight like fire."

"A bay," Savannah says.

"Yeah. He was spicy."

She laughs out loud for real. "A spicy cow horse." Then she taps her chin and starts lookin' around. Each one she studies nickers, acknowledgin’ her attention. "This one?"

I look at the horse and immediately, I recognize the devil inside him. "Yeah. That's the son-of-a-bitch."

Savannah laughs again. Harder.

"What's so funny?"