Page 4 of Save A Horse (Texas Rose Ranch #1)

Daisy

I couldn’t believe the way Colt had spoken to me.

Did I have that much of an attitude? I mean, I didn’t want to be here anymore than he and Walt wanted me here, but this is what my dad insisted on.

What choice did I have? I liked where I was living now.

I wasn’t happy living here, so I left after graduation.

Seven years away from this place, and it seemed like somehow, I always knew that I would be back here at some point.

I think after my mom died when I was sixteen, I just had so many memories of her - memories that haunted me every place I went in this town.

I wanted an escape, and the city was that for me.

I knew when I left that my dad would stay.

I did miss him, but the thought of being here and dealing with all the memories of my mom seemed to outweigh being away for so long.

I asked him to visit. He came out once and saw my place and where I worked as a photographer.

I went to a community college in the city and studied art.

I was always into taking pictures and being creative, so that seemed like the best fit for me.

When I found the magazine advertising for a journalist, I knew that would be a good opportunity for me.

I have been there for five years now, working as a photographer and having my place.

I was proud of that. My dad was so uncomfortable while in the city and looked so out of place that I just knew he wouldn’t visit again, and I was right.

I watched Colt walk away, headed for the TV again.

I waited for a moment and then walked down the hall to the room I had been staying in.

It was decorated in beige and brown, with some black accents here and there, and a few off-whites.

I liked the colors. It gave me a good memory.

It was what my mom and dad had decorated their place with when they built it.

I guess it was just a ranching thing to use those colors.

I shut the door, grabbing some shorts and an oversized t-shirt from a drawer. I slipped out of what I was wearing and changed into those to be more comfortable for the night. I plopped onto the bed, thinking about my past yet again. I thought about how this was not the first time I had been here.

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My dad and Walt were good friends, and sometimes my dad would bring me and my mom here when he was coming to help Walt out or just spend some time catching up with his buddy.

Growing up, I was used to this way of life.

It was fun being around the horses and riding through the open fields.

Once my mom passed, though, it was hard to find enjoyment in it all.

With two years of high school left, I was dreading every second.

My mom had fallen from a horse and hit her head on a rock.

It was nearly instant. I remember so many things flashing through my eyes after the accident.

My high school graduation, prom, going to college, getting a job, getting married, having kids…

and my mom wouldn’t be there for any of it.

Getting away from Garrity Valley was so much easier than dealing with all the feelings that came when I saw this place.

There were too many memories and too much of a painful reminder.

I remember one summer when my dad was coming to help Walt out with some cattle, and he brought my mom and me along.

We wanted to ride horses while the men worked, so Walt let us ride his.

I was only eleven then, and Colt was thirteen.

Colt’s mom, Rose, wanted to go with us. While we were saddling up, Colt kept looking over at us.

Rose gave my mom the reins of her horse and whispered, “I’ll be right back.

” My mom and I were each sitting on a horse, waiting to go.

I saw Rose pull Walt to the side for a moment, and when she came back over to us, she had Colt with her.

“Ladies, Walt thought it would be a good idea to have a man come along with us - you know, just in case we find ourselves in any trouble or need a little assistance.” She winked at us both while Colt ran inside to grab a horse from the stalls.

We rode for several hours around the ranch that day and stopped at a stream before heading back to give the horses a little break.

Colt and I talked some while our moms talked to each other.

Colt and I talked over the years of us coming here, spending lots of time together, and we became the best of friends.

He helped his dad once he was old enough to do some manual labor and ranch work.

His mom, though, like this time, would sometimes convince Walt to let her steal him away for some fun. That was one of my favorite memories.

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