Finding Goodbye Read online

  I had been unconscious for three days after the accident, and when I woke, all anyone could talk about was the drunk driver responsible for our collision.

  I knew his name was Thomas Redford, and he was forty-eight years of age and a North Carolina resident. He’d been driving a stolen vehicle, and already in possession of a rather colorful criminal record. I had seen his mug shot in the papers and occasionally in the news on television, but his features were blurry in my mind now–like a series of shapes and colors that had blended in abstract form. His face wasn’t important. To me, he was just a man, another piece in the puzzle that would change my life forever, and there was plenty of blame to go around. While my broken family sought to punish the man responsible for our accident, I punished myself on the inside. I blamed myself, knowing at my core that Gabriel would still be here had he not come to pick me up from the beach house.

  In my mind, it all came back to that one central moment of my intoxication. Had I not been partying with my friends, too drunk to drive myself home, then my brother would still be alive. Or at least, that’s what I had told myself for so long. There were other factors, I realized, and plenty of blame to go around. Maybe it was time for me to accept that.

  I turned the hot water on in the shower, shed my clothing, and climbed inside. The heat was invigorating, giving me a small shred of rejuvenation. I scrubbed my body, wishing I could scrub out the nightmare, too. I stayed under, pushing into the wall with my hands to stretch out my sore muscles. After I had just about used up the entire hot water supply, I climbed out and wrapped myself up in a towel that smelled like lavender.

  I changed into a pair of jeans, and pulled on a stretchy white tank-top, layering it with a gray sweater. When I pulled open the bathroom door, Luna was there, sitting quietly in front of me. She looked up at me, angling her head as if to tell me she had been patiently waiting for me–keeping guard. I scooped her up, nuzzling her, and carried her down the steps. Grandma was sitting at the table with her arms stretched out in front of her, cradling a mug of steaming coffee between her hands. Her maroon sweater was too large for her small arms, appearing as though two of her could fit within it.

  “Feeling any better?” she asked once she saw me.

  I filled a mug with coffee, retrieving cream and sugar before answering. “A little,” I said, taking a seat in the chair beside her. “The shower helped,” I admitted.

  “After you get some caffeine in you, you’ll feel like a new woman.” Grandma grinned. She reached out, cupping a hand over top of my own. Her palm was exceedingly warm from holding on to her own mug.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said, my voice was barely audible. “I didn’t mean to wake you, or lay all of that on you that way.”

  “Well,” she said, “I’m glad you did.”

  I forced myself to smile, and took a careful sip from my coffee mug.

  “I won’t drag this out, Darcy, but I want you to know you can come to me about anything. It’s good to talk about these things, get them out in the open,” she encouraged. “That’s what family is for.”

  “I’m really going to work on being more open,” I promised.

  “Good.” She sighed. “Now, what shall we do for breakfast?”

  ***

  Grandpa had joined us for breakfast, the smell of steak and eggs pulling him from his slumber. We chatted idly about the day’s tasks, and then he left to start his daily farm chores. Now that Liam and I would be working with the gray horse, it freed some of Grandpa’s time to work on other things that he’d neglected or gotten behind on. On a farm–especially an old farm like this–there was only about a million things that needed fixing on a regular basis.

  I stood quietly at the kitchen sink, washing the dishes. There was something soothing about the doing them by hand, watching as the residue washed down the drain, making the dishes look brand new. I wished that it were that easy in life, to wash away a person’s mistakes and make them shiny and new again.

  As I wrung out the dishcloth, hanging it over the faucet to dry, I heard the low rumble of Liam’s truck rolling down the drive. I glanced out the window, watching as he climbed out of the truck and headed for the barn.

  “I saw you two working with the horses yesterday,” Grandma said, placing a clean mug back into the cupboard. “It looked like you were in your natural environment.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Really.”

  “Liam is a good instructor,” I said. “He’s good with animals. It’s like they can sense how much he cares.”

  “That’s quite a compliment.” The corner of Grandma’s mouth slid into a mischievous grin.

  “It’s just an observation.” I shrugged; hoping to brush my slip-up off like it was nothing. “Anyway, he seems to think that the gray horse–Maverick–has taken to me. For whatever reason, he seems more inclined to trust me.”

  “Horses are smart animals,” Grandma commented. “Maverick is a good name.”

  “I thought so,” I agreed.

  Grandma moved around me, pulling the silver thermos from the cupboard and filled it with coffee. “Have fun out there today,” she said, and handed me the thermos.

  “I’ll see you later, Grandma,” I said, leaving the kitchen. I snagged an apple from the fruit bowl on my way out, and tucked it in the pocket of my sweater.

  The morning air had a bit of a chill to it, but I could tell it was going to shape up to be another unseasonably warm day. Gravel crunched beneath my boots as I walked across the drive, and then paused to pull open the heavy wooden door of the barn. I stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind me.

  I stopped in front of Maverick’s stall, and retrieved the apple from my pocket. “Hey boy, are you hungry?” I extended my hand, offering up the delicious treat. He walked over and took it in one bite, grinding the juicy apple between his jaws. I could smell the sweetness of it in the air between us, and leaned forward to kiss his nose. “I’ll see you soon, boy.”

  I walked past the remaining stalls and rounded the corner. “Liam?” I called, searching for him. I paused in the doorway of the main storage room. Liam was inside, lifting bales of hay and stacking them neatly in the corner.

  The radio was on, so I doubted he heard me call for him, which was probably a good thing because I was standing there inadvertently studying him. His hair was disheveled, falling across his forehead as if he had forgotten to comb it before he left. It had that natural wind-blown appearance, signifying that he didn’t have to try to look good. I found myself gazing intently at the shape of his broad shoulders, and the line that spread visibly through his T-shirt down the length of his back, narrowing at his hips. I swallowed, forcing my eyes anywhere else.

  I cleared my throat. He turned and caught my eye as he tossed a hay bale on top of the growing pile. “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey.” He grinned, and I could feel my pulse quicken.

  “Brought you some coffee,” I said, stepping in the storage room. I held out the thermos and then leaned against the wall.

  “Thanks,” he said, uncapping the lid.

  I was looking out the window while he sipped his coffee, watching the sun rising over the rolling hills beyond the barn.

  “You’ve got some hay in your hair,” Liam said, pointing.

  “Oh.” I reached up trying to find it, failing.

  “Here.” Liam stepped forward and plucked the stray piece of hay from my hair, and my breath caught in my lungs. His fingers brushed the hair from my forehead as he tucked a strand behind my right ear, and I knew it revealed the scar jutting through my eyebrow. I felt his thumb resting against the skin there, ever so lightly, and strangely intimate. I looked up, and caught something like de
spondency blending into the depths of his emerald eyes. I couldn’t move, or breathe while he held my gaze. In all my life, no one had ever looked at me the way Liam was looking at me now, like he was seeing right through me, unraveling all of my secrets. It was unnerving.

  “There.” He dropped the piece of hay, letting it collect on the floor with the others.

  “Thanks.” I cleared my throat, reaching up to push my hair back over my eyebrow and stepped around him. I pulled my sweater tightly over my body, as if that could somehow shield Liam from looking right through me again.

  I tried to gather myself quickly, but I couldn’t quite shake the feeling. “So,” I said, clearing my throat once more, “what’s on the agenda for today?”

  “Well,” he said, lifting another bale onto the growing pile, “I just have a few chores to finish up around the barn, but then we can start working with Maverick.” His voice was collected, like the moment that passed between us was already filed away and done with.

  Had I imaged it?

  “Sounds good,” I said. “Do you want any help?”

  “Sure, if you want.”

  “I don’t mind,” I told him.

  “If you want to pass out the morning feed, I’ll take care of cleaning out the chicken coop,” he said. “I won’t be much longer in here.”

  I nodded, and stumbled against a dilapidated board on my way out the door. I reached out, catching the frame with my hand before I tripped entirely, but I quickly hurried through the exit anyway. I hustled to the tack room, gripping the counter for support while I tried to collect myself, and clear the mental cobwebs from my mind. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, he was definitely having some affect over me.

  I divvied up the grain, and deposited equal portions into each of the horse’s feed buckets before checking to make sure they all had clean water. When I finished, I found Grandpa beneath a frame of an old tractor.

  “Grandpa?”

  He slid out from underneath, his body aligned with the creeper he was rolling on. “Well, hello,” he said.

  “Do you need some help?” I asked. “I can go get Liam.” It worried me to see him working beneath such a huge hunk of metal. The tractor was ancient–much like most of the other equipment on the farm.

  “I’m fine,” Grandpa said, “just checking the gear synchronizers.”

  I nodded. I had no idea what that meant. “Well, okay,” I said.

  Grandpa leaned back against the tractor, wiping a wrench on an oil-stained yellow cloth. “Darcy,” he said, his features pensive, “what do you think about Liam?”

  I lifted an eyebrow. It was an innocent enough question, but since it was coming from someone who normally didn’t involve themselves in my social life, I didn’t know what to make of it. “What do you think of him?” I thought better to ask.

  Grandpa was staring off, absently cleaning the wrench. A beat later, he looked up and said, “He’s a good man. Just…thought you should know that.”

  I felt my features shift on my face, a slow smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Okay,” I said. “Um, thanks, I guess.”

  I hadn’t the slightest clue of what to make of his statement, or fathom the reason why he’d brought it up. Maybe he thought that since my dad wasn’t currently in the picture, he should step up to the plate and assume some sort of fatherly-guidance role. It was probably awkward for him since the last time he’d had to discuss boys and relationships was with my mother, probably twenty-some-odd-years ago.

  Liam appeared in the hall, leaning against the frame. “You ready?” he asked, spotting me.

  “Yep.”

  We collected Maverick from his stall, and were greeted by a refreshing burst of cool air as we stepped into the round pen.

  “He seems more relaxed today,” Liam noted.

  “Probably because we let them play so much yesterday; it was nice to watch them just be horses.” I walked over, stroking the length of Maverick’s neck.

  “We can turn them out again today, looks like it’s going to be another nice one,” Liam commented, looking up at the azure blue sky. “Let’s start with another join-up exercise,” he suggested.

  I released the lead from Maverick’s halter, and used it to chase him to the outer edge of the round pen. Liam climbed atop the rails to watch us work. It didn’t take long to get Maverick moving. I clucked to keep him heading around the arena in the right direction, but it was almost as if he actually enjoyed showing off around the pen. It was nothing short of magnificent to witness firsthand. I’d always thought horses were beautiful, majestic creatures that radiated a sense of calmness and power. It was the perfect combination–an equal balance of the two attributes complimenting one another in a sort of dance. Watching Maverick move around the arena was like watching art forming before my eyes.

  I ran him for a few more minutes before he turned his inner ear toward me, letting me know he was ready to join me at the center. I turned, and listened as his hooves shuffled toward me. The feeling of joy spread through me when I felt his breath warm against my ear. I didn’t think it was a feeling I’d ever get tired of.

  I reached up to stroke his head. “Good boy,” I said.

  “Nice work,” Liam said, “you look amazing out there.”

  I smiled, hiding my face in Maverick’s mane. I breathed in the scent of his neck, and stroked his dappled silver coat.

  “What’s next?” I asked, feeling enthusiastic.

  Chapter Ten

  Liam and I continued to work with Maverick in the arena, and we were making a lot of progress with the saddle pad. Maverick was behaving with the saddle pad draped over his back, so long as I rewarded him with peppermints. He was learning quickly, and outsmarting me by the minute. On more than one occasion, I caught him trying to steal peppermints from my pocket while Liam explained this and that, talking a little longer than Maverick seemed to approve of.

  “Well,” Liam said, “I think we should try to put the saddle on him.”

  “Are you sure?” I had clipped the lead back onto his halter and walked him over to the railing where a saddle was draped over the side. He was doing okay with the scent of it, but I was pretty sure that was just because I was rewarding him with peppermints.

  When Liam had brought the saddle out, moments before, he stiffened at the sight of it, tossing his head in the air angrily. I was able to calm him down, but I was worried that this encounter wouldn’t go exactly how we wanted.

  “We should at least try,” he said. He picked up the saddle and started walking toward Maverick, slowly.

  Maverick snorted sharply, stepping backwards.

  “Hold him steady,” Liam instructed.

  I was doing the best I could, but Maverick obviously had other intentions. As soon as Liam got close, he reared up with a sharp squeal that pierced the air, ripping the lead from my hands, and caused me to lose balance. As Maverick bolted, I tripped over my boots and fell backward in the dirt, landing flat on my backside. The sudden movement caused pain to ripple through my bad leg, but the sensation passed quickly.

  Liam was there in an instant, kneeling down in the dirt beside me. “Are you all right?” he asked, deliberately accessing the situation.

  “I’m fine,” I said, trying to pull myself off of the ground. Liam helped me, steadying me as I reached back to brush the dirt from my jeans. Maverick was on the opposite side of the ring, and if a horse could laugh, I swear he was doing it.

  “Maybe this isn’t such a great idea,” Liam said, giving me a once over.

  “I’m fine,” I said again.

  He was quiet for a minute, looking over at Maverick who was stubbornly grazing on th
e grass just on the other side of the round pen. “I really thought it would work this time,” he said. “We were making so much progress.”

  “He’ll come around,” I said. I surprised myself for saying it, but more so, for believing it.

  The screen door on the front porch whined as it opened, and I looked up to see Grandma making her way across the gravel drive. She was carrying a brown paper sack in her arms–the kind you’d get at the grocery. She waved once she realized we were staring at her, and excitedly came to a halt in front of the round pen.

  “How’s it going?” Grandma asked.

  “It could be better,” Liam answered. “Maverick is being stubborn, to say the least.”

  “You two could probably use a break,” she said. “I brought lunch.” She held up the bag, and from its size, I wondered if the whole kitchen was stored in there.

  “Thanks, Grandma, you didn’t have to do this.”

  “Nonsense,” she said, waving it off. “It’s a nice day; you should enjoy it while it lasts.” She thrust the bag over the railing, shoving it into Liam’s arms before strolling back to the house.

  “Do you get the feeling we’re being set up?” Liam asked a moment later, a smile pulling at his mouth.

  I laughed. “It kind of feels that way, doesn’t it?”

  “Still,” Liam said, peeking down into the bag, “it’s free food.”

  I lightly smacked his upper arm, and he chuckled as we exited the round pen. “Where to?” I asked, gesturing around the vast expanse of farm land with my opened arms. There were plenty of places to choose from that would make a nice place to have a picnic lunch. I was about to suggest the porch swing when Liam started heading toward his truck, and opened up the passenger’s side door. I hesitated.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “It’s a surprise,” he said.