Page 97 of Stay With Me

When I arrive at the family barn, I’m surprised when Dad greets me. He’s usually at the retreat or The Lodge first thing.

“Hey, old man. What’s goin’ on?” I slide on my gloves and grab a pitchfork to get started on stalls.

He leans against a stall, looking exhausted. “It’s Sydney. Been up with her half the night waitin’ on the vet.”

“Oh, shit. Does Landen know?”

He shakes his head. “Hasn’t answered my calls or texts, so figured he’s been sleepin’. Not much he can do anyway until we know what’s wrong. She won’t eat or drink. Hasn’t had a bowel movement in twenty-four hours. Pretty sure she has a fever, too.”

I look over the door and see Sydney lying down. My heart crushes seeing her in pain. Even though she’s a little shit toward Franklin, she doesn’t deserve this.

“She’s probably constipated. I can give her a natural laxative.”

“Tried that already…” He checks his watch. “Six hours ago.”

“Damn. He’s gonna have to go in and manually clear out the blockage before she gets worse.”

“Should be here within the hour to check her, but yeah, it ain’tgonna be a quick and easy fix. Even Franklin’s been worried.”

I chuckle at that and then, as if on cue, he releases a loud whine. Looking over at his stall, his head pops out and he lets out another one.

“It’s alright, buddy.” I go over and pet his nose, then check his stall to make sure he has droppings. He does, which means whatever Sydney has is most likely an isolated incident.

While we wait for Dr. Weston, I take a few of the horses out to the pasture and start on their stalls. When Landen finally shows up, Dad gives him a recap and then Landen sits with her until he arrives.

I stay out of the way, mucking stalls, and then refill their food and water buckets, but I can overhear mostly everything. Landen’s worried sick as he rattles questions off and Dr. Weston tries to reassure him that he’ll do everything he can to help Sydney.

After an initial check-up, Dr. Weston decides to do an enema first and then give her some pain meds for discomfort. When she’s finally able to go, her stall is going to be a disaster, but I’d rather deal with that than have her go through more extreme measures like surgery.

“Doing okay?” I ask Landen when he walks over to a stall I’m sprinkling fresh straw in.

He lifts a shoulder as if he doesn’t really know. “I hate feelin’ helpless, and I’m low-key annoyed. We provide top-tier care and feed ’em the best. She gets daily exercise, fresh water, and routine exams. I don’t understand how this happened. Especially if it turns out to be a parasite.” He blows out a frustrated breath, lifts his cap, and brushes his hand through his hair before replacing the hat. I’ve not seen him this worked up in a long time.

“She could’ve eaten something that’s causin’ it. Shit, who knows what blows into the pasture that she ate. Could be a piece of twine or anything else. Doesn’t mean we don’t take proper care of ’em,” I tell him, clapping his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s talk aboutsomethin’ else to get it off your mind. Have you seen Ellie since the wedding reception?”

He shoots me a death glare, and I chuckle.

“Guess not.”

“She hasn’t been here since Noah left. She has a competition next weekend, so I assume she’ll be back soon to train on her own.”

“You memorized her schedule?” I taunt, laying down the last bit of straw for this stall.

He crosses his arms as he stands across from me. “Are you really in any position to give me shit about being an obsessive asshole?”

I flash him a lopsided grin. “But at least my obsessiveness paid off.”

“Easy for you to say. Magnolia never despised you. I don’t even know what I did to piss off Ellie. That’s what doesn’t make sense. I’ve been nothin’ but nice to her.”

“You constantly tease her when she’s trainin’,” I point out. “Every interaction I’ve witnessed with you two has been you makin’ fun of something she was doing wrong. Her stance. Heralmostknockin’ down the barrel. Her timing being too slow. Or you taunt her on her outfit. Her hat and boots beingtoosparkly. You callin’ her Pippi Longstocking because of her cowgirl braids. Maybe you could give her a compliment for once.”

The corner of his top lip perches up in confusion. “But I say them in a flirty way! Not like I’m bullyin’ her. And it’s part of my job to critique her. If I kissed her ass and told her how amazing she was, she wouldn’t push harder to get better.”

“Noah’s her trainer, not you,” I counter.

He rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t mean I don’t have valid points when I watch her practice. And Noah usually agrees with me anyway.”

I give him an easy shrug. “She clearly ain’t feelin’ your flirty vibes, so maybe try talkin’ to her about something other than hercareer. I’m sure there’s more to her personality than being a barrel racer. Ask her what other things she’s interested in.”