Chapter 17

“Will he bring you, Esther, as his wife? Or maybe he’ll bring that other woman again?”

“That’s none of your business, Miles,” I snap. He’s baiting my anger, I know that, probably trying to punish me for my many lies this evening. I shouldn’t show him how easy he can hurt me with just a few simple words.

But after the fight with Garnar and Thea this evening, I’m too tired to pretend I’m not just a little bit broken over all that’s happened. After ten years of marriage, even if the love is gone, I still deserve respect.

Garnar and Thea hold none of that for me. And neither, it seems, does Miles.

Miles immediately sees this change in me. His face shifts, softening. “Esther…”

I wave away whatever he’s going to say. I don’t want to hear it. The last thing I want to do right now is fight more.

“I want to go home,” I say. But where is home anymore? If I go to the house, Garnar will make me sleep in the car in the garage. I can’t go to my father’s house without rousing suspicion. I’m not ready for those conversations yet.

“I’ll call you a cab,” Miles says. Before I can tell him not to, he has his phone to his ear. Maybe this is his sort of apology for being a dick just now. Either that, or I look even worse than I imagine.

With my two main options out, where can I stay tonight? Or maybe even for the next few days? The cab driver is going to need a destination.

Thinking quickly and praying hard, I unlock my phone and open my text thread with Cynthia. It’s late, but I know she hasn’t gone to bed before midnight since her divorce.

I write a short text. Can I crash at yours for a few days?

Her reply comes through before I can even click off the phone.

Finally. I’ve had the spare bedroom made up for you for weeks now.

I stay with Cynthia for the next few days. I miss my children desperately, but as they each have phones, we’ve been able to talk and text. I go over to the house in the mornings to make their breakfasts, and then again after school to watch and feed them until Garnar comes home.

Garnar doesn’t say a word to me when he sees me. He acts like I’m entirely invisible. Though I suppose I do the same to him.

When I’m not with the children, I dedicate myself entirely to my work. The Georges decide they want to move up the date for their mounted shooting event, so Paige and I put in many extra hours during the week to hasten the event and have the country club ready by the weekend.

I’m exhausted, but by the time Saturday comes around and the event begins, I’m also proud. Paige and I, and the other members of the staff, have somehow pulled it all off.

Cynthia, as a wealthy divorcee, has her own invitation to the event, but she still chooses to go as my plus one. Together, we stand outside the clubhouse, near the start of the dirt path that forms a track through the many acres of forest nearby.

The country club houses its own stables and riding areas, so some stable hands are currently bringing down some of the club horses for those who have no thought or wanted to bring their own.

At the other end of the field, a gunsmith has set up a station and a range to test and make any last minute adjustments to the competitors’ guns.

Cynthia has her own rifle tucked in the crook of her elbow, the barrel facing down to the grass. Her riding suit is tighter than I remember, but she doesn’t seem to have gained any weight. More likely, she had it taken in after her divorce to be purposefully more revealing.

“It’s good to see you like this,” Cynthia says to me. “Back in your element.”

“What do you mean?”

For my hard work, Mr. Carver has gifted me with a new riding suit and boots. Unlike Cynthia, I have put on a few pounds, staying home all the time with the kids. But this new outfit fits me well, all sleek lines and crisp edges. The shiny boots make me want to skip around like a little kid.

“You love doing things like this,” Cynthia continues. “Being out here with people, organizing things, seeing it all come together.” Cynthia smiles. “This is the happiest I’ve seen you in such a long time.”

I almost feel a little guilty by her words, like I shouldn’t be happy. After all, I’m not at my house. I try to spend as much time with my children, but I feel like I’m neglecting everything else in my life that used to be important.

“Did I just ruin it?” Cynthia asks, smile slipping.

“No,” I say quickly. I appreciate her kindness. What is ruining my mood is who I just spotted down in the horse fields behind her. “He did.”

Cynthia turns. “Son of a bitch.”

Down in the horse fields, Garnar has the reins of one of the horses. He’s attempting to hold it steady for Thea to jump onto and ride.

I recognize the horse immediately as a 15-year-old mare named Sparkle Heart. She has a gentle temperament. I know because I helped raise her since birth. Many college semesters, between classes, I would come to the club and look after the foal. Then the filly. Now the mare.

I’ve even brought the children to see her a few times, though I still don’t get to visit her as much as I want.

Garnar knows this is my horse. Maybe he’s chosen her for Thea to ride because he knows Sparkle Heart is patient. But I’m more willing to believe he’s doing it as an affront to me personally.

Thea has never liked horses as I have. I’m honestly not sure she’s ever been riding before. She never offered to come with me. When I have been there, I’ve never seen her around the stables.

I’m too far away to hear their discussion, but Garnar seems to be encouraging Thea to get up onto the horse. Thea seems nervous, almost scared, as she places shaky hands on Sparkle Heart’s sides.

Thea lifts her leg to put into the stirrup, but she moves too quickly, too erratically, and knocks Sparkle Heart in her tender underbelly.

Sparkle Heart shakes her head and chuffs as she shuffles away.

“Stand still, you damn thing!” Garnar shouts loud enough for me to hear. He tugs forcefully on the reigns, causing Sparkle Heart to neigh in distress.

Fear and loathing grip my heart as I start forward without even realizing I’m moving.

Thea tries again while Sparkle Heart is still upset. Thea gets a better hold this time, but Sparkle Heart rears to shrug her off. Thea falls down onto her ass.

Garnar’s face twists in rage. He draws his hand back as if he is about to strike my horse with the riding crop he’s holding!

Garnar should know better than to harm the horse. Thea just doesn’t know what she’s doing. He should teach her before he ever attempts to discipline the innocent animal.

“Garnar!” I call as I rush forward. Even running, I’m too slow to stop him.

Fortunately, another rider sees his moves and comes closer on his own steed.

Miles is well dressed in a crisp white shirt and gray vest. The gray matches that of his riding pants. His black boots are shined to perfection.

Atop his black stallion, he looks like a nobleman, or maybe a god. Miles expertly draws his horse close and kicks the riding crop from Garnar’s hand.

Garnar, in surprise, stumbles backwards. He drops Sparkle Heart’s reins, and she trots a few feet away before stopping to nose at the grass.

“Striking a horse like that is a senseless act of cruelty,” Miles says, glaring down. “Though I suppose I should expect many senseless acts from you, Garnar, as you seem to be lacking in it.”