Page 20 of His Country
“Do you just look for causes to champion or do they fall into your lap?”
That had Ethan falling back against his truck with a huff. He clutched the papers to his chest and sagged a bit.
“Ah, I guess you got me there.” He sounded wistful. “I guess…growing up, I was the youngest of four brothers. Nothing was ever really my own, you know? All my clothes were hand-me-downs, and any sports or hobbies were always my brother’s first. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great childhood, but then the last year of high school I got a job working as a tech for a large animal vet.” He smiled softly. “I always loved animals, but it wasn’t until then that I truly found my calling. Something that was just mine.”
Aiden could hear the fondness in his voice. If he looked closely he could see a little bit of that teenager in his features still.
“We had a call for a foal that wasn’t thriving. His mother was a maiden and she panicked, kicking him. Broke his neck.”
Breeding horses was a heartbreaking business. Maiden mares were first time mothers—sometimes it took them a minute to understand the tiny thing that just appeared in their stalls was their foal.
“Really there was nothing we could do. The foal had no quality of life. Owners couldn’t stick around, said it was too painful. My boss said I didn’t have to stay but I couldn’t stand the thought of that foal dying all alone. Its own mother didn’t even want to give it comfort and I just…” he stared down at his feet, eyes a little glassy. “I held him as the light faded from his eyes and I just thought, ‘how is this fair’? Foal didn’t even have a name yet, didn’t have a chance at life.”
“And my boss said…she said, ‘it was no one’s fault. These thing’s just happen’ like that was supposed to make me feel better. An animal was dead and there wasnothingI could do.”
Aiden didn’t know what to make of what Ethan was saying. They all had these stories. Anyone who worked with animals faced that pain. Aiden had heard a variation of the same thing:nothing you could do.It hadn’t made him feel any better than it had Ethan.
“I nearly quit that day.”
Aiden’s voice was hoarse with disuse when he asked, “Why didn’t you?”
“Naivete, I think.” Ethan snorted. “I thought if I studied hard enough, pushed myself enough, that I would never have another call like that.”
Aiden didn’t have to ask if that worked out for him.
Ethan pushed himself off the truck and straightened out his shoulders. His eyes lacked the sparkle of mirth Aiden was so used to.
“This life is full of so much unfairness. I could let it keep me down, or I could get up and fight. If I swing enough times, eventually I’ll land a punch. And if I don’t, well, at least I can sleep at night knowing I was knocked out trying.”
Ethan dropped his free hand onto Aiden’s shoulder. He gave it a little squeeze as he passed by, leaving Aiden standing beside his truck.
I could let it keep me down, or I could get up and fight.
His lips formed the words, but it felt like his fists delivered them. Aiden tried to make sense of them, and why they hit so hard, but all he found was a confusing mix of anger and confusion.
Trying just to fail was an exercise in pointlessness. You can only get up so many times. After all, David only slayed one Goliath. They’d fought for his farm. Did everything they could,and they still failed. Aiden didn’t feel any better for it. He didn’t sleep at night with the ease of a man who could relish in his bruises. He tossed and turned with their pain, trying desperately to find a position he could find some rest in.
He’d fought long after his father had given up. When he’d thrown up the white flag and accepted whatever mercy he could find at the bottom of a bottle, Aiden had fought on. He stayed up late running numbers. Sacrificed his weekends to barter work for a new tractor part. Hell, he even swallowed his pride to beg the bank for another chance.
When he was deep in his drink, he could see that it was never his fight. It was his father’s. One he lost long before Aiden ever realized. And maybe it was his fault or maybe it was theunfairnessof it all, but in the end, they still ended up in the same place.
And by the time Everett came around, Aiden was so beat down he didn’t have the will to pick up another fight. He surrendered before the first bugle blew. Gave up the two people he cared about the most because he couldn’t bear to lose again.
So here he was. The loser of two battles—one he fought and one he didn’t. Would he have felt differently if he had fought for Everett? For Billy? Would he be able to look himself in the eye if he tried?
He caught his reflection in Ethan’s rearview mirror. His eyes usually looked vacant, lost. They hurt to look at. Made his heart clench when he couldn’t remember a time they blazed with life. He didn’t realize how much he missed it until he’d seen it in Ethan.
For the first time in a long time, Aiden felt something beyond his self-imposed unhappiness. Like a tired veteran dusting off the weapon he swore he would never again wield, he felt the urge to fight. To get back up, square up, and throw a punch.
Aiden just wished he knew how to do it.
“Your saddle is a piece of shit,” Aiden snapped, eyeing the rotted leather with disdain. It was old as dirt. “Tree is broken. You can’t put this on a horse.” He dropped the saddle at his feet, resisting the urge to kick it across the barn.
Isaac rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess that last drive was rougher than I thought.”
“Or its older than the fucking dinosaurs and you don’t take care of it,” Aiden suggested. “You’ll have to borrow one.”
Isaac groaned. They hated borrowing saddles. They never fit right and after a few hours in the tack it began to hurt. The only saddles they had available were Frank’s—and you only touched his stuff if you were willing to lose a finger. Or three.